Storytime with Rachel F Hundred

Stringfellow Hawke knew it was a dream. He didn’t exactly know how he knew but somehow, someway his conscious mind was telling him the truth. The Santini Air office around him might seem real; the table he was leaning against certainly felt solid enough and he’d almost burned his tongue on the hot coffee in the mug he held but…it was a dream…

He glanced at the office door. Something bad had happened beyond that door. His brow creased as he tried to remember what. Why wouldn’t his head work?

‘You OK, kid?’

Hawke turned at the voice of Dominic Santini and smiled at the old man who was a close friend, mentor and surrogate father all wrapped up into one. Dom was dressed in his usual garb; pale blue shirt, brown trousers, topped with a shining blue jacket inscribed with the Santini Air logo and a red baseball cap over his wispy grey curls. The familiar sight calmed something in Hawke.

‘Just feeling a little groggy, Dom.’ Hawke replied.

‘You were injured pretty bad, String.’ Dom reminded him. Injured…of course, he’d been injured…that’s why he was dreaming and why this wasn’t real. Dom gave Hawke a gap-toothed grin. ‘Well, I’ve got to go now. I’ve stayed with you too long as it is, kid.’ He stood up and made for the door.

‘No!’ Hawke panicked; he wasn’t ready to lose him yet. He moved to block Dom’s path, standing in front of him. ‘Don’t go, Dom. Not yet.’

‘I have to, String, it’s my time.’

Hawke held on tightly to Dom, tears already flowing down his cheeks as he begged the man who’d raised him not to leave him.

Dom patted his back. ‘It’s my time, kid.’ He repeated and drew back.

‘I can’t come with you.’ Hawke said.

Dom’s large callused palm cupped Hawke’s face. ‘I know. It’s not your time yet, String. You have Caitlin and your son to look after.’

Hawke nodded at the mention of his wife and their unborn baby. They needed him and he couldn’t leave them; he’d promised Caitlin.

‘It’s time you returned to them and it’s time for me to leave.’

‘How am I going to do this without you?’ Hawke asked roughly.

‘You’re going to be fine.’ Dom kissed his cheek. ‘I’m always going to be backing you, kid. Don’t forget that.’

Hawke watched Dom slip through the office door and away from him…

It was the incessant beeping noise that brought Hawke back to consciousness. It broke through the insulating bubble that had protected him from the outside world and nudged him slowly but ruthlessly awake. He opened his blue eyes and immediately snapped them shut to block out the artificial light that flooded every corner of the room. He opened them again slowly, allowing them to adjust. He lifted his head and stopped as even that slight movement caused his senses to swim; his head felt heavy. His eyes rested on a monitor by the side of his bed. It was the source of the beeping sound. He scowled. He was in a hospital. His gaze drifted and careened to a stop at a woman slumped asleep in a chair by the bed.

Caitlin. His eyes scoured her appearance. She was dressed in blue jeans and an oversize pink jumper. Her red hair was caught in a messy ponytail with wisps escaping to frame her freckled face. The pale delicate features were screwed up into a frown as though her troubles had followed her into her dreams. His sigh disturbed her and she stretched, arching her back and displaying the pregnant profile of her body as she came awake. Her blue-green eyes flickered in his direction and caught his like a snare. For a long moment they remained frozen looking at each other.

‘Hi.’ His own voice sounded rusty with disuse.

‘Ohmigod! You’re awake!’ Caitlin stumbled out of the chair and made toward the bed before changing directions abruptly. ‘I have to get a nurse.’

‘Caitlin, wait!’ Hawke stopped her and she made her way back to his side.

‘Are you real?’ He asked hesitantly.

She smiled and laid her hand against his cheek, her thumb brushing over the stubble on his jaw. ‘Is this real enough for you?’

Hawke raised a trembling hand to cover hers. He leaned into her. ‘You’re real. You’re really real.’

‘I’m really real.’ The smile she wore shook and her eyes filled with tears. ‘I thought I’d lost you.’

‘I’m here.’ Hawke said trying to comfort her.

‘Yes, you are.’ Caitlin leaned down to kiss his other cheek and he caught the hint of her perfume before she drew back. ‘I need to get the nurse. I’ll be right back.’

The next few hours sped by in what seemed to him a frenzy of examinations, of being poked and prodded, asked inane questions and embarrassingly having tubes removed from various places he preferred not to think about. He heard the doctor catalogue the list of his injuries in a state of disbelief; burned hands and arms that had healed without scarring; his lower legs had been badly cut and the blood flow compromised; they’d had to perform additional surgery to prevent the loss of his right leg. There had been spinal damage but the inflammation had reduced and it wasn’t permanent. The worse news was the brain haemorrhage that had happened shortly after his arrival at the clinic…wherever it was; his hand drifted up to the side of his head where they had opened his skull to perform brain surgery. He’d slipped into a coma following the operation and apparently they had feared it would leave him with permanent brain damage.

Finally, he was tucked back into the bed and they left him alone with Caitlin. She perched at the side of the bed and he noticed the small white lines of fatigue and worry that lined her face. She’d been through hell worrying about him, he thought, and she’d had to endure it alone.

‘You probably have a dozen questions.’ She began. ‘How much do you remember?’

‘Bits and pieces.’ Hawke burrowed back into his pillows. ‘I remember the explosion and losing…losing Dom.’ His voice broke and he took a moment to recover his breath. When he looked up he saw his own grief reflected in Caitlin’s face. He felt for her hand and clasped it with his own.

‘I miss him too.’ She said.

They were silent for a long while as they mourned the loss of a man who had treated them both like his own children. Caitlin clumsily swiped at the tears running down her cheeks.

Hawke sighed. ‘Cait, I remember after…I thought I was dying.’

She nodded. ‘You were doing a pretty good job of it.’

His blue eyes focused on Caitlin again. ‘I remember at the hospital…I promised to come home to you.’

She nodded and her eyes shone with tears again. ‘I was so scared you were slipping away from me. It was the only way I could think of to keep you focused on fighting through.’

‘God, I missed you.’ He said quietly.

‘We missed each other.’ Her voice was a whisper. ‘When you asked me to stay away…’

He flinched as though she had yelled the words at him.

‘I couldn’t bear not being able to be with you…’ Caitlin’s eyes filled with more tears and she tried to pull away.

Hawke kept a firm grip of her hand. ‘I was trying to protect you, Cait, especially with the baby. I lost Dom, Cait. I knew I couldn’t lose you too. That would have killed me for sure.’

‘I know.’ A tear made a lazy trail down her cheek.

Hawke reached out and wiped it away with his thumb. He left his hand cupping her face and slowly drew her toward him until he could kiss her softly on her lips. They looked at each other and he kissed her again, driving his fingers into her hair at the nape of her neck. He felt her palm against his bare chest and he broke away from the kiss to tug her closer, burying his face in the clean scent of her hair. They stayed that way for a long while until he eventually drew back.

‘Are we OK?’ Hawke pushed a lock of hair away from her damp face.

She sniffed and traced his rough jaw line with her finger. ‘We will be.’

‘I thought…at the hospital…’ Hawke hesitated. ‘I thought I saw Saint John.’ His breath caught in his throat and he dimly registered that Caitlin was nodding.

‘You didn’t dream it.’ Caitlin squeezed his hand. ‘You have your brother back. Jo took Airwolf with Locke and an airforce major called Rivers to Burma. They rescued him.’

Hawke closed his eyes again and let the relief seep through him. It hadn’t been a dream. Saint John was home.

‘I called him.’ Caitlin continued. ‘He’s on his way.’

Hawke opened his eyes and frowned at her. Jo was Dom’s niece; they had been training her to fly Airwolf, the world’s most technologically advanced and only mach capable helicopter, just before the explosion that had killed Dom and injured him. Jason Locke, he vaguely remembered the name…Archangel’s replacement at the FIRM…no, not the FIRM any longer; it had merged with another, larger intelligence agency called the Company. Locke had taken over as Hawke’s contact on Airwolf whilst Archangel, Hawke’s friend otherwise known as Michael Coldsmith-Briggs III, concentrated on a project to build a new generation of the helicopter. Rivers…he didn’t recognise at all. So if that was the team that had rescued his brother in Airwolf…his tired mind put together the missing pieces…

‘The Company have Airwolf.’ Hawke said dully. Caitlin nodded. He sighed and slumped back against the pillows. He would never have handed over the helicopter willingly especially with the development of her artificial intelligence but maybe it was good that it was finally over.

‘Hey.’ Caitlin’s gentle tug of his hand brought him out of his reverie. ‘It’s not as bad as you think.’

He raised an inquiring eyebrow.

‘We managed to transfer the artificial intelligence into the new ship,’ Caitlin explained, ‘and modified the programming in the old ship to prevent another intelligence from forming.’

‘You mean the self-preservation code?’ Hawke asked thinking of the part of Airwolf’s programming that allowed her independent action.

‘Yep. We removed it.’ Caitlin said. ‘The modified programming in the old ship doesn’t allow the computer to learn from the memory logs or initiate any kind of self-preservation code.’

‘So she’s just like any other jet?’ Hawke couldn’t keep his disappointment from his voice.

Caitlin rubbed his hand comfortingly. ‘Well, apart from the fact that the intelligence seems to have found someway of linking back to the old ship too. She’s using her intact programming in the new ship to operate.’

‘Linking back?’ Hawke wondered if he was going to say something that wasn’t a question.

‘She seems to be able to transfer herself at will.’ Caitlin smiled. ‘It’s driving Michael nuts.’

‘I bet it is.’ Hawke couldn’t see his old friend being overly relaxed about an independent intelligence being able to roam from computer to computer without any boundaries.

‘It’s just as well though,’ Caitlin commented, ‘I think she’s helping keep the new Airwolf team in one piece.’

‘They’re not doing so good, huh?’ A small glimmer of satisfaction settled the knot of envy in his gut.

‘They’re not you and Dom.’ Caitlin murmured. ‘One of the side benefits of the linkage is apparently Airwolf is copying all the memory files over from the new missions in the old ship into the memory log in the new ship. I think it’s the only thing preventing Michael from asking Karen to curtail her. I think he knows more about the Airwolf team’s activities than the Company director at the moment especially given Locke’s decision to keep Airwolf at the Lair and the location a secret from his superiors.’

‘I didn’t know Locke had it in him.’ Hawke was surprised; his memory of Locke was as a Company man and a stuffed shirt; he hadn’t thought Locke had the balls for that kind of decision. He felt a wave of tiredness descend on him and he stubbornly refused to give in to it. He rubbed a thumb across her knuckles as other details came back to him. ‘Saint John got me out of the hospital?’

‘With a little help from Marella. When you arrived at the cabin, I was waiting with Airwolf and brought you and Saint John here. Michael arranged everything. He’ll be pleased to hear you’re awake.’ Caitlin said.

‘How is he?’ Hawke asked.

‘Good.’ Caitlin smiled. ‘The new project is going well. He and Marella are definitely very much a couple. They visited with Angelina a couple of weeks ago.’

Hawke smiled at the mention of Michael’s senior aide; Michael had admitted his feelings for Marella just before everything had happened and he was pleased to hear it was going well. It sounded like Angelina, Michael’s ten year old daughter, was much more accepting of the relationship than she had been.

‘They’re taking care of Tet.’ Caitlin murmured.

Hawke frowned mentioned at his dog. He wondered how much else he had missed whilst he’d been unconscious. ‘I don’t remember getting here. I don’t remember much after seeing Saint John.’

‘You were out cold the whole journey.’ Caitlin looked back up at him and stroked a hand over his cropped brown hair, careful to keep away from the still livid scar from the surgery.

Hawke cleared his throat. ‘So where is here exactly?’ He gestured at the room.

‘Switzerland.’ Caitlin smiled at his shock. ‘The clinic’s the best in the world for treating major trauma victims. They’ve put a lot of time and effort into getting you well.’

‘How long?’

‘Just under two months.’ Her eyes over spilled with tears again.

‘Two months.’ Hawke repeated the words. He felt the tiredness he’d been holding back descending on him like a tidal wave. He rubbed his free hand over his face.

‘You’re tired. You should rest.’ Caitlin slipped out of their embrace and off the bed. She smoothed the blankets where she’d been sitting as he settled back against the pillows and he caught hold of her hand.

‘Caitlin?’ He asked as he felt the inextricable pull towards sleep. ‘Stay with me.’

‘I’ll be here.’ He heard her say as his eyelids shut firmly and he gave up his hold on consciousness.

—

A faint stream of early morning sunlight was beginning to filter through the blinds when Hawke reopened his eyes. His gaze immediately fell on Caitlin curled up in the chair beside the bed. She was asleep, an open book on her lap. His expression softened as he caught the glint of her wedding ring. There was so much they hadn’t discussed yet…so much they hadn’t had the opportunity to…he frowned as his senses caught something. Someone was in the room with them. He jerked his head round to the left, winced at the sharp pain he caused with the movement before the sight before him stole his breath completely; Saint John.

His brother sat resting in another easy chair pulled up to the other side of the bed. His light brown hair looked mussed and he was unshaven, dressed in a green flight suit. Saint John’s eyes snapped open. The two brothers looked at each other; hazel eyes into blue.

‘God, String!’ Saint John pushed himself to his feet and leaned over to hug his younger brother to him. ‘You scared the bejesus out of me!’ He kept his voice low so they wouldn’t disturb Caitlin.

‘Guess I’m too stubborn to die.’ Hawke eased back from his brother. ‘Guess we both are.’

‘I’m guessing in your case someone’s too stubborn to let you.’ Saint John slanted a look at the woman across the bed.

‘She has this thing about my getting medical attention.’ Hawke explained.

‘I kinda figured.’ Saint John smiled sheepishly, sitting back down. ‘How are you feeling?’

‘Weak as a kitten,’ Hawke admitted, ‘but I’m alive. How are you?’

‘I’m OK. Adjusting, I guess.’ Saint John grinned. ‘It’s weird not being under cover anymore.’ He leaned forward in the chair. ‘I had no idea that you didn’t know I wasn’t MIA. If I’d known I would have contacted you, you have to believe that.’

‘I believe you.’ Hawke murmured. He still wasn’t sure how he felt about his brother condemning him to years of uncertainty about his fate despite the words. It was done and it seemed pointless getting angry about it but he could feel his skin bristling with pinpricks of hurt that threatened to grow into something nastier anyway. He sighed. There was an awkward silence.

Saint John cleared his throat. ‘There’s also the matter of the helicopter you left me with.’

‘How is the Lady?’ Hawke felt another pang of envy in his gut. Even with the next generation Airwolf helicopter and the news that the artificial intelligence was transferred, it felt strange that Airwolf was no longer exclusively his.

‘We’re getting used to her.’ Saint John smiled. ‘Caitlin helps out with the odd question now and again when I can sneak a phone call to her. She’s making me look good.’

‘The Company don’t know…?’ Hawke glanced over at his wife protectively.

‘They don’t know where you are, I may have given them the impression you were dead.’ Saint John paused. ‘Even Jo thinks you’re dead.’

Hawke shifted impatiently and turned back to his brother; he wasn’t bothered about himself only about his wife. ‘What about Caitlin?’

‘They also have no idea about Caitlin or even who she is. I talked to Jo and she’s agreed to keep Caitlin’s existence from the rest of the team.’ Saint John reassured him. He leaned forward clasping his hands and glanced over at his sister-in-law. ‘She’s great, String. I can see why you married her.’

Hawke smiled. ‘Best thing I ever did.’

Saint John smiled. It had been a long time but if he was reading his brother right, those simple words spoke volumes. He frowned as he saw Hawke’s eyelids droop.

‘You’re tired.’ Saint John stood up. ‘Get some rest. I’ll come back later.’

Hawke heard his brother leave the room as his eyes closed and fell asleep.

A nurse shook Hawke awake a few hours later, pressing medication on him and helping him with his morning ablutions despite his protests that he could manage fine on his own. Caitlin looked on for a while with amusement before disappearing. She arrived back, freshly showered and changed, to find him back in bed fuming silently at his own weakness and contemplating the bowl of cereal he’d been given for breakfast.

‘Hey.’ Hawke’s gaze snapped to her as she hovered in the doorway.

‘Hey.’ Caitlin moved inside and shut the door. She gestured at his bowl. ‘You don’t want it?’

‘I was hoping for pancakes.’ He joked. He lay down the spoon. He’d only managed a couple of mouthfuls and his stomach was churning uneasily.

‘It’ll take you awhile to get back on solid food.’ Caitlin kissed him and moved to perch on the bed after she helped him settle back against the pillows.

Hawke smiled at her, noting the damp strands of hair that clung to her neck where the hair-dryer hadn’t quite reached. ‘The nurse said the doctor would be along later to talk to me about my recovery program.’ He reached out a hand and was pleased when she took it. ‘Saint John was here earlier.’

Caitlin nodded. ‘I saw him when he arrived.’

‘It’s weird having him back.’ Hawke admitted.

‘You talk any?’ Caitlin asked.

‘Some.’ Hawke sighed.

‘Just give it some time, Hawke.’ Caitlin smiled at him.

‘Yeah.’ Hawke kissed the palm of her hand. ‘You know,’ he said, ‘we didn’t get a chance to talk about you or the baby before I passed out again last night.’

‘I’m fine…’

‘What about the morning sickness?’ Hawke said.

‘It’s pretty much stopped.’ Caitlin said happily. ‘Just occasionally, now and again. The doctor’s here have been great; they’ve been looking after me. The baby’s moving now. Here. Feel.’ Caitlin placed his hand under her shirt, over the gentle curving bump of her pregnancy and he felt the strangest sensation against his fingertips.

‘Wow.’ Hawke was stunned. ‘That’s the baby?’

‘That’s the baby.’ Caitlin confirmed. ‘Doesn’t it feel incredible?’

He glanced up at Caitlin. She looked as awed as he felt. He wished fervently that he had been there for the first time she had felt their baby move inside her. How many other moments had he missed out on?

‘I’m so sorry, Cait.’ Hawke murmured.

‘What for?’ She asked confused.

‘Not being here for you.’

‘You’re here now and you’re going to be with us from now on.’ Caitlin said knowing there was nothing else she could say to take away the hurt and guilt he was feeling. ‘That’s what counts.’

‘From now on.’ Hawke promised. The tiny fluttering happened again and he stroked her skin gently. His dream came back to him. Dom had told him he’d have a…a son. ‘He’s pretty active, huh?’

‘He?’ Caitlin raised an eyebrow amused at the sudden use of the pronoun. When they’d found out she was pregnant, they’d decided not to label the baby early, agreeing that they would be happy with either a boy or a girl as long as they were healthy.

‘I think he’s a boy.’ Hawke said.

‘Any reason?’ Caitlin asked curious at the certainty in his expression.

Hawke hesitated but gave in seeing her curiosity. ‘I kinda had this dream just before I came to.’

‘Oh?’

He rubbed at the soft skin of her belly under his fingers. ‘I was in the office at Santini Air talking to Dom and he told me that I needed to take care of you and our son.’

‘Dom told you?’

Hawke nodded. ‘It was weird, Cait. It was like we were saying goodbye.’

‘Maybe you were.’ Caitlin felt more tears threatening at the sadness in his voice and she took a shaky breath.

‘Maybe.’ Hawke’s hand flattened over her tummy as he looked back up at her. ‘He told me he’d always be backing me.’

‘He always did.’ Caitlin said.

‘Yeah.’ Hawke smiled at her and leaned forward to capture her lips.

The door opened and his brother strode in. Saint John came to a stop seeing the couple kissing and Hawke’s hand beneath Caitlin’s shirt. ‘Sorry.’ He mumbled embarrassed.

Hawke felt Caitlin’s lips curving under his and turned to the door where his brother was beginning to back out awkwardly. He grinned at Saint John’s expression. ‘You’re OK, Saint John. Just catching up with my wife and my son.’ He didn’t remove his hand.

Caitlin rolled her eyes at him but smiled welcomingly at Saint John. He came into the room and closed the door behind him.

‘Son?’ Saint John asked. ‘You had the scan?’

‘Yes, I had the scan but I asked them not to tell me. Your brother just woke up convinced we’re having a boy.’ Caitlin shifted her weight and Hawke glanced at her concerned.

‘You should get more comfortable.’ He reluctantly let go of her and she reached for the chair beside the bed gratefully. Saint John sprung into action to assist her, lifting it closer so she would be right next to the bed and able to slip her hand into Hawke’s.

‘So what’s the plan?’ Caitlin asked her brother-in-law as he took a seat on the opposite side of the bed. ‘Are you going to be able to stay a while?’

‘A couple of days.’ Saint John said. ‘We’re between missions.’

‘You get the problem with the targeting systems sorted out?’ She asked.

Saint John nodded. ‘Your suggestion worked perfectly.’

As his brother began to ask about details to do with Caitlin’s health and the baby, Hawke began to realise that Saint John had stayed in touch with Caitlin for more than just the odd phone call about Airwolf. He frowned at the teasing tone in Saint John’s voice when he asked Caitlin if she was still craving ice-cream. A wave of irrational jealousy swept over him.

‘You’re craving ice-cream huh?’ Hawke rubbed Caitlin’s fingers and drew her attention.

‘Chocolate.’ She admitted ruefully. ‘I seem to be eating a bowl of it every time your brother calls.’

‘Really.’ Hawke said.

Saint John heard the edge in his brother’s voice. ‘Why don’t I give you guys some time together?’ He said smoothly getting to his feet.

Caitlin waved him back into his chair as she rose. ‘You stay. I have to go sort some things out.’ She gestured vaguely before she leaned down and kissed her husband.

Hawke’s blue eyes watched her skirt the bed. They narrowed as she laid a hand on Saint John’s shoulder on her way out.

Saint John smiled at Caitlin and watched her leave the room. His sister-in-law was one hell of a woman. He brought his gaze back to Hawke and found himself pinned by a searing blue stare.

‘It sounds like you’ve been keeping in touch with her a little more than with the odd sneaked phone call.’ Hawke noted.

Saint John looked at him surprised at the tone of his brother’s voice. He gave a small laugh as he realised what Hawke was thinking. ‘You can’t be serious.’

Hawke raised an eyebrow.

‘You are serious.’ Saint John realised when the intensity of the glare didn’t diminish. ‘String, you have to know she would never…’

‘I know that.’ Hawke stated. ‘I trust Caitlin.’

Saint John felt his own anger stirring. ‘You don’t trust me.’

‘I don’t know you.’ Hawke blurted out.

The air abruptly thickened with tension as the two brothers stared at each other.

Saint John sighed and shifted to lean forward, his hands clasped in front of him. ‘I know this is my fault, String.’

Hawke shifted in the bed and rested his head on the stacked pillows behind him, breaking the eye contact with his brother. ‘Is it?’ He met Saint John’s eyes again. ‘I left you.’

Saint John sprang to his feet and moved to sit on the bed beside his younger brother. He took one of Hawke’s hands in his. ‘You had to leave, String. I knew that.’

‘If you blame me…I can understand it, Saint John.’ Hawke sighed. ‘I’ve kinda been expecting it since I ran into Mace and he tried to blow me out of the sky.’

Saint John blinked. Mace Taggert had been close to them in ‘Nam. He sighed. ‘I can’t say I never blamed you, String. There were moments in the camp…but I always knew you did the right thing.’ He squeezed his brother’s hand. ‘I guess we know now why brothers weren’t meant to serve in the same unit, huh?’

Hawke looked down at their clasped hands. ‘If you didn’t blame me, why didn’t you come back or call?’

‘You think that’s why I stayed away? Because I blamed you?’ Saint John was incredulous.

‘What else am I meant to think?’ Hawke muttered defensively.

Saint John straightened his shoulders and held Hawke’s unhappy blue eyes. ‘I tried to contact you. I left you the letter…’

‘It was a goodbye letter, Saint John,’ Hawke broke in angrily, ‘and I didn’t get that until I opened your footlocker last year.’

‘I wasn’t to know you wouldn’t open the footlocker for years, String.’ Saint John shot back, his voice rising.

‘I thought you were MIA.’ Hawke retorted furiously. ‘It was your footlocker. I didn’t want to open it. I wanted to find you and bring you home so you could open it.’

Saint John had no reply. He wrenched his hand from his brother and stormed to the window to glare unseeingly at the beautiful scenery outside.

Hawke felt his heart pounding. He couldn’t remember them ever really arguing before. He’d known the hurt inside him had been growing ever since he’d found out that Saint John had been rescued from the Vietcong and joined another army unit; that his brother had survived the war and continued his life without contacting him. But he was shocked at the depth of the anger he felt, the way it reached his bones and made him shake. He deliberately took a deep breath.

‘You could have called.’ Hawke said, happy that he’d managed to lower the volume of his voice even if the tone remained accusatory. ‘Any time in the last sixteen years, you could have picked up the phone and told me you were OK. Dom never moved, Saint John. He kept the same apartment, same telephone number just in case.’

Saint John’s head bowed. He’d loved the old man who’d raised them; he’d grieved at the news of his death. ‘I know.’ He shoved his hands deep in his jeans pockets and spun back to his brother. ‘Don’t you think I know that?’

The grief in Saint John’s voice, in his eyes stopped the harsh words Hawke had been about to utter. He took another breath. ‘Why?’ He asked plaintively. ‘Why did you never call, write, something just to let us know you were still alive?’

Saint John sighed and walked back to the chair Caitlin had occupied. He sat back down. ‘I don’t know, String. It’s complicated.’

‘Talk to me.’ Hawke demanded.

‘At first…’ Saint John shrugged, ‘the unit I joined was tight. They were really strict on anyone communicating beyond the team. I barely got permission to write you that letter. When I was still with the army, it never seemed possible.’

‘And later when you left?’ Hawke pressed.

‘I was waiting till I got some vacation to visit.’ Saint John said. ‘We hadn’t spoken in years and I didn’t just want to call you but then I got a mission, and another. I was deep undercover, String. There was just no way I could risk calling you.’

‘There must have been times when you weren’t undercover.’

‘Sure.’ Saint John nodded. ‘I can’t remember how many times I’ve picked up the phone and put it back down; started a letter and stopped.’ He shook his head. ‘It just didn’t seem to be the right time, the right moment.’ He sighed. ‘Truth is, String, that I’ve done some thinking since I came home and I think the reason why I didn’t call was because I liked the freedom.’

‘What do you mean?’ Hawke’s brow creased.

‘After Mom and Dad died, I had to be the responsible one, String.’ Saint John held a finger up to stop him from arguing. ‘I was the older brother and I was meant to take care of you. Hell, the army even expected it. I remember Colonel Vidor once telling me to watch your six because you were the one pilot we couldn’t lose.’ He shook his head at the memory. ‘And I never minded. We were a team.’ He took a breath. ‘But when I got captured, I’d had two and a half years of being on my own and when I got offered a place with the unit that rescued me, I figured it was a good thing that we wouldn’t be in the same unit. No more chances for either of us to feel responsible for the other one.’

Hawke sighed. ‘So what you meant is that you liked not having to be responsible for me anymore.’

Saint John nodded. ‘I think I’ve been running scared of losing that sense of freedom, of losing my independence.’ He reached forward and clasped Hawke’s hands. ‘But if I’d had any idea you thought I was still MIA, I would have picked up the phone in a heartbeat. I just can’t tell you how sorry I am how things went down.’

‘I get it.’ Hawke said. ‘I do, Saint John.’ He confirmed when his brother looked at him with disbelief. ‘Hell, I even understand a little. I’ve kinda liked not being known just as Saint John Hawke’s little brother.’

‘But?’

‘But you stayed away so long.’ Hawke’s voice was plaintive.

‘I know, I know.’ Saint John admitted. ‘You have every right to be angry…’

‘I am angry.’ Hawke said. ‘More than a little. Dammit, Saint John, the only reason you’re here is because I was your last resort getting away from Buchard.’

Saint John flushed. ‘But I am back now and I’m not planning to go away again.’

‘And I’m pleased, I really am.’ Hawke said. ‘But we can’t pretend the last sixteen years haven’t happened.’

Saint John sighed. ‘It’s going to take time for us to get past this.’

‘Yeah.’ Hawke’s lips twitched as he remembered Caitlin’s words earlier that morning. ‘So my wife tells me.’

Saint John looked at him seriously. ‘About Caitlin…’

Hawke gestured with his free hand. ‘I was out of order, Saint John. It’s just I kinda feel guilty that I haven’t been there for her for past couple of months and you have.’

‘I was only ever a poor substitute, String.’ Saint John smile widened. ‘She’s treated me like family and that’s meant a lot to me but all she’s really wanted the whole time was you.’

‘She loves me.’ Hawke said smugly.

‘Yeah, for some strange reason she really does,’ Saint John said, ‘and despite the evidence to the contrary, little brother, so do I.’

Hawke reached forward and they hugged tightly.

Their frank conversation came back to Hawke a few mornings later when an almost overwhelming sense of relief flooded him as he and Caitlin watched Saint John get in a cab and head back to the airport. They waved to the disappearing car until it was out of sight. Hawke slipped his hand into Caitlin’s and breathed in the fresh air, turned his face up to the sun. He halted the nurse who stepped up to wheel the chair he was sat in back into the clinic.

‘Could you just give us ten minutes?’ He asked. He found it amusing that the nurse checked first with Caitlin.

‘Maybe you could wheel him over there and I can sit on the bench?’ Caitlin asked.

The nurse nodded and followed her instructions before going back inside. Caitlin lowered herself onto the bench next to him and when she was comfortable Hawke reached for her hand again.

‘This is nice, huh?’ Hawke’s eyes drank in the blue skies and lush green grounds of the clinic. He could see a lake in the distance and his heart gave a skip. He missed his home; he missed his dog and his cello; the call of the eagle…

‘Are you sure you’re warm enough?’ Caitlin asked worriedly. Hawke was bundled up with a warm coat and blankets over his pyjamas but the air was crisp and she could feel a chill through her own clothes.

‘I’m good.’ Hawke reassured her. ‘It’s just great to be outside.’

‘Feeling cooped up?’ Caitlin asked.

‘A little.’ He admitted; it had gotten worse when the doctor told him that he had at least another couple of months of recovery. It had been a shock but he’d made a start; his physio to rebuild his muscles and strengthen his injured back was going well, he was off the monitors and drips completely, and he’d refused the shrink they’d offered him despite the nightmares that plagued him about Dom’s death. It was going to take time but he was on his way. In fact, the same could be said for his relationship with Saint John – it would take time to recover the past closeness they had shared but they were on their way.

‘What’s going on inside that head of yours?’ Caitlin asked curious at the emotions she could see flitting almost invisibly through his blue eyes.

He kissed her hand. ‘I was thinking about me and Saint John.’

‘You two seem to be working it out.’ Caitlin commented. She wasn’t oblivious to the remaining tension between the brothers but she could see they were both making an effort to get to know each other again and move past what had happened.

‘We are,’ Hawke smiled at her, ‘although…’

‘What?’

‘I’m kinda relieved he’s gone back to the States,’ Hawke admitted, ‘and I have you to myself.’

‘Hawke,’ Caitlin turned to face him fully, ‘you know I kinda got the impression the other morning that you were…’

‘Jealous?’ Hawke suggested. His eyes were rueful and he gave her a bashful smile. ‘I was. I just hated the fact that he knew about your craving for ice-cream and I didn’t.’ He shook his head. ‘Silly, huh?’

‘No.’ She disagreed with an understanding smile. ‘I’d hate it if my sister knew something about you that I didn’t.’

Hawke interlinked their fingers. ‘Did he talk to you about why he stayed away?’

Caitlin shifted position on the bench. ‘Some.’

‘I think I get why he did it.’ Hawke said.

‘You do?’

‘Yeah.’ Hawke rubbed her cold fingers; they’d have to head back in soon. ‘Saint John was always the responsible one because he was the oldest so being free of that must have been seductive. He must have feared losing that independence a lot.’ He sighed. ‘I know being free of having him watch over my shoulder all the time was pretty great.’

‘But that didn’t stop you looking for him.’ Caitlin pointed out.

‘To be honest, Cait, I think I was so focused on getting him back so I could feel better about leaving him in the jungle in the first place that I never actually considered what it would be like when he was.’

‘And how is it?’ Caitlin prompted gently.

‘Tough.’ Hawke smiled to lessen the impact of the harsh word. ‘I’ve gotten used to operating without an older brother. Like with the ice-cream, I’m grateful that he was watching out for you but it feels like…like…’

‘Like he was taking over?’ Caitlin commiserated.

‘Yeah.’ Hawke sighed. It was a large part of why he was relieved Saint John had gone home. He shifted in the chair. ‘You were right; it’s going to take time.’

‘At least you have that now.’ Caitlin pointed out. ‘I don’t think he’s going to forget to call anytime soon.’

Hawke smiled at her. ‘Come on. Let’s get back in.’

—

It was another two months after he’d regained consciousness that Hawke walked into the suite of rooms he and Caitlin occupied to find he had a visitor. Michael Coldsmith Briggs III was waiting for him dressed as he was always dressed; in a pristine white three-piece suit with matching tie and leather shoes, carrying a wooden cane with a silver handle. His black eye-patch was the only jarring note in his sartorial elegance.

‘Michael.’ Hawke chucked his towel on the chair and went to greet his old friend with a warm handshake that turned into an awkward manly hug. ‘It’s good to see you.’ They’d spoken on the phone but it was good to see him in person.

Michael grinned at him. Hawke looked immensely improved from when the spy had last seen him. He seemed fit and healthy with good colour in his cheeks. Hawke’s short brown hair was back but he could still see through the buzz cut to the jagged scar from the surgery the other man had endured. ‘It’s good to see you. You look good.’ Michael raised an eyebrow at the exercise gear. ‘And sweaty.’

‘Physio.’ Hawke explained as he gestured for his friend to take a seat on the couch. ‘I’m not sure I’m ever going to repay you for this.’ He waved a hand around the room.

Michael shrugged. ‘It was the least I could do.’ He cleared his throat. ‘I’ve never had the chance…I wanted to tell you how sorry I was about Dominic in person.’ They hadn’t spoken about the older man in their conversations.

Hawke acknowledged the words with a tilt of his head, his own usually inscrutable expression saddening. ‘I miss him.’ He admitted.

‘I’ll deny it if you mention it outside of this room but so do I.’ Michael said with a sad smile.

Hawke poured a drink of orange juice from the jug on the sideboard. He offered it to Michael who accepted with a smile of thanks.

‘So what brings you here?’ Hawke asked.

‘What? Can’t I come and visit the sick?’ Michael asked rubbing his moustache.

Hawke raised an eyebrow. ‘Switzerland is hardly down the road. Besides…’ He finished pouring his own drink. ‘Cait and I have been expecting you, Michael. We figured you’d be showing up with a plan sooner or later.’

Michael tapped his cane on the floor. ‘I’ll try to be less predictable in future.’ He glanced round. ‘Where is Cait?’

‘She should be back any minute.’ Hawke sat down in the matching chair to the sofa. ‘She had to make a pit stop.’

‘How’s she doing?’ Michael asked.

‘Good.’ Hawke said. ‘We’ve started Lamaze classes.’

‘You’re going to be in the delivery room?’ Michael’s eyebrows shot up.

‘She wants me there and I figured it was the least I could do.’ Hawke said grinning at Michael’s horrified expression.

Whatever reply the spy had been about to make was halted in its tracks as Caitlin walked in.

‘Michael!’ Hawke saw her face light up with pleasure as she crossed the room to give the other man a hug. ‘When did you get here?’

‘About an hour ago.’ Michael said, grinning down at her. She had changed in the months since he had last seen her; her slim body had curved and her tummy was rounded and protruding. But it was the sheer happiness in her eyes as she moved away from him to greet her husband with a kiss that he noticed most. He smiled at the way Hawke rose from his chair to stand and the way their arms slid around each other; one cohesive unit.

‘You should have called us and let us know you were coming.’ Caitlin chided Michael.

‘I wanted to surprise you.’ Michael caught Hawke’s amused gaze. ‘Both of you.’

‘Well it’s great to see you.’ Caitlin said. ‘I take it you came to tell us the plan?’

Michael nodded and glanced back at Hawke. ‘The doctor has informed me that you’ve recovered enough to leave?’

‘Yeah.’ Hawke pulled at his sweatshirt before Michael could continue. ‘Look, can this wait until I take shower?’

‘It’ll keep.’ Michael stood up. ‘Why don’t I tell the rest to the two of you over dinner?’

‘Sounds good.’ Hawke started to toe his trainers off as Michael headed for the door.

Hawke caught Caitlin’s hand as she made to leave. ‘Want to join me?’

She reached over and kissed him with a smile. ‘I’ll see you in the dining room.’

Hawke stood and watched her leave not even bothering to hide the sappy grin on his face.

Dinner was a pleasant affair. The three of them ate in the clinic’s intimate dining room, sharing a table at the back. The booth provided them with privacy. Their meals were ordered and brought by a discreet waitress. The good food and cosy atmosphere made it easy to slip into the comfortable rhythm of old friendship.

‘How’s Angelina?’ Hawke asked as they tucked into their main course.

Michael beamed with fatherly pride. ‘Wonderful. She wanted to thank you for the birthday present. She said it was…cool.’

‘Good.’ Caitlin smiled. ‘I’m glad she liked it.’

‘She’s been having great fun looking after Tet.’ Michael said. ‘Although I think Tet would prefer not to have to spend so much time with Brownie.’

Hawke smiled at the mention of Angelina’s dog and Tet’s likely reaction to the boisterous Lab. ‘Yeah. Tet kinda likes being alone.’

‘Reminds of someone I used to know.’ Michael said his good eye twinkling as he cut up his steak. He couldn’t, he realised, now imagine Hawke without Caitlin.

‘How’s Marella?’ Caitlin asked.

‘Good.’ Michael was unaware of how his own expression softened inexplicably or how a small smile lifted his lips. ‘She was sorry she couldn’t come too but one of us needed to stay behind and keep the project going.’

The couple across from him exchanged a pleased look. The discussion moved on and meandered over a range of subjects. They were all relaxing over the bitter aroma of freshly served coffee when Hawke pressed Michael on the plan he had mentioned.

‘First, let me give you an update on the explosion that injured you.’ Michael took a sip of his coffee.

‘Cait told me that it was a bomb.’ Hawke’s eyes had cooled.

Michael lowered his coffee cup. ‘The Company stopped working an investigation as soon they received news from Locke of your…um…death.’ There was a question in his good eye.

‘Saint John might have given Locke that impression.’ Caitlin admitted.

‘So I stopped being the Company’s problem and they stopped investigating.’ Hawke commented.

‘Exactly.’ Michael said. ‘I picked the investigation up but I don’t have many answers for you.’

‘What do you have?’ Caitlin asked.

‘The bomb had a signature consistent with an army explosives expert called Jay Hammond, a mercenary who worked for anyone.’ Michael said.

‘Worked?’ Hawke asked noting the past tense.

‘His body washed up on an LA beach two weeks after the explosion.’ Michael explained. ‘I still have people trying to track down his last movements but we haven’t even managed to identify where he was staying yet.’

‘So whoever came after us…’ Caitlin began.

‘…is still out there.’ Hawk concluded.

‘It may not be safe for you both to return to the US without any protection.’ Michael said.

Hawke clasped Caitlin’s hand. His priority was keeping Caitlin and the baby safe. ‘What do you suggest?’

‘I can set you up with new identities and a new life anywhere in the world.’ Michael expanded.

‘You mean like witness protection?’ Caitlin asked.

Michael nodded. ‘At present both of you are presumed dead. Your death certificate was never revoked after John Bradford Horn faked your death in that kidnapping attempt,’ he said pointing to Caitlin; his finger moved to Hawke, ‘and as your brother has nicely muddied the waters about your fate, it would be easy to perpetuate that illusion.’

Hawke and Caitlin exchanged a look.

‘Witness protection won’t work for us, Michael.’ Hawke murmured.

‘My whole family is still getting over the whole my being dead thing.’ Caitlin said. ‘I have to call my Mom every day to check in.’

‘And Saint John’s just come back.’ Hawke added. He wanted the opportunity to get to know his brother again.

‘Well, that brings us to the other option.’ Michael said.

‘Which is?’

‘Come and work for me. I still want you on the new Airwolf project and it would keep you off the radar in a way returning to work at Santini Air would not.’ Michael said. ‘The new helicopter has a few bugs that have delayed things but I need people I trust. It would be great to have you on board and somehow I think Airwolf would prefer you flying her than anyone else.’

‘I take it we’re still the designated pilots on the self-preservation code.’ Hawke commented wryly.

‘Yes,’ Michael admitted, ‘but that’s not why I’m asking.’ He smiled. ‘If I was worried about that I would have asked Karen to find someway to prevent Airwolf’s intelligence from returning to the original helicopter.’

‘Yeah,’ Hawke said, ‘but you’re getting really good info from that link.’

‘I also trust that she’s operating under the parameters you set with her.’ Michael returned. ‘I no longer think it’s likely she’ll blow up something important when she’s in complete control without the failsafe of a pilot.’

‘So exactly what would we be doing if we came to work for you?’ Hawke asked.

‘You’d be lead test pilot.’ Michael said immediately. ‘Cait, you can join Hawke in the test team or there are other options if you want a less risky job.’

‘What’s the catch?’ Hawke asked.

‘No catch.’ Michael responded.

Hawke and Caitlin exchanged another look; a conversation without words.

‘Guess you have a deal, Michael.’ Hawke said. ‘But we’ll need more time. We need to visit with Cait’s folks, get the cabin ready for the baby…’

‘Take as much time as you need.’ Michael said. ‘I can wait.’

‘What about your bosses?’ Hawke asked. ‘I can’t see them being keen on my joining the project.’

Michael shrugged. ‘My deal gave me complete autonomy on the project and my orders were only to desist contact with you whilst you had the original Airwolf helicopter; that’s no longer an issue.’

‘The Company still gets this new ship of yours eventually though.’ Hawke noted.

‘Maybe not.’ Michael smoothed his tie. ‘I have something else in mind.’

Hawke quirked an eyebrow inquisitively. It wasn’t the first time Michael had hinted he was plotting something.

Michael gestured with his coffee cup. ‘You don’t want to know.’

Caitlin rolled her eyes and mouthed the word ‘spies’ at Hawke in full view of Michael. They all laughed.

Michael sighed and checked his watch. ‘I have to get going.’

They walked out with him to the front door, pausing to grab warm outdoor wear. A white limo waited at the bottom of the steps. Michael hugged Cait goodbye before turning to Hawke.

‘Let me know when you want to return to the States and I’ll arrange transport.’ Michael said holding his hand out to Hawke for a goodbye handshake.

‘Thanks, Michael.’ Hawke held the other man’s hand firmly. ‘For everything.’ The two men hugged awkwardly before Michael climbed into the car. The couple watched as it moved forward, down the driveway, disappearing from view.

Hawke glanced at the clear night sky. It was a crisp evening, cold enough that his skin prickled but it was clear and dry. ‘Want to take a walk?’ He asked Caitlin.

She nodded casting a speculative look at him and Hawke tucked Caitlin’s arm into his own as they set off down one of the well-lit garden paths.

‘So what do you think of Michael’s plan?’ Hawke asked her. They were following a path down to the lake shore.

Caitlin shrugged. ‘You’ve been a test pilot before. What’s it like?’

Hawke smiled. ‘Think about how you felt the first time you sat in Airwolf and multiply it by a hundred.’

‘I almost killed us the first time I sat in Airwolf.’ Caitlin pointed out as they rounded the bend and came to a stop.

‘That’s what makes it fun.’ He breathed in appreciatively. The air was fresh with the scent of pine. He could almost believe he was home. The sky was clear; the moon spilling light that rippled on the lake surface. Caitlin shivered beside him and he slipped an arm around her shoulders.

‘Cold?’

‘Hmmm.’ Caitlin leaned into him. ‘At least, Michael’s plan keeps us out of sight for a while. I can’t say I’m happy that whoever killed Dom could be after us.’

Hawke’s arm tightened around her. ‘Me either.’ His eyes hardened. ‘Although, I’d love to get my hands on them.’

‘I know.’ She shook her head. ‘He didn’t deserve to die that way.’

‘He didn’t deserve to die at all.’ Hawke corrected her. He sighed. ‘I miss him.’

Caitlin hugged him tightly.

‘I don’t think I can go back at Santini Air.’ Hawke admitted. ‘There are just too many memories of Dom.’

‘I know.’ Caitlin said quietly. She understood that he wanted to avoid the one memory he feared most; that of Dom’s death. If they went back to Santini Air, they would be returning to the place where Hawke had lost the man who’d raised him in the most horrific way. He was still having nightmares. She cuddled into him. ‘At least Michael’s job will keep you out of trouble and you’d be flying with Airwolf.’

‘The new ship.’ Hawke reminded her.

‘But the same intelligence.’ Caitlin said. ‘You know I’ve kinda got to thinking of Airwolf as almost like a spirit that just embodies the machine rather than the actual machine anymore.’

‘Maybe that’s a good way of looking at it.’ Hawke said.

‘I guess it really is time to go home.’ Caitlin murmured.

Hawke hugged her closer. ‘Scared?’ He asked, hearing the tremor in her voice.

She surprised him by nodding. ‘I guess hiding out here, it’s made me feel safe.’ Her hand slipped to her bump. ‘I’m kinda worried about having to deal with reality.’

‘I know.’ Hawke looked at her intently. ‘But you know the good thing?’

‘What’s that?’ Caitlin cuddled closer.

‘We’ll be together.’

She reached up and kissed him. ‘You got that right.’

He tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear and kissed her again. They headed indoors, their arms around each other.—

Hawke stopped mid-note and glanced up at the sky. A few moments later a white helicopter swung over the mountain and headed towards him. Hawke scowled and stood up, a tight grip on his cello and bow. He stomped to the cabin’s porch. Caitlin smiled up at him from her seat on the bench, putting her book to one side. Tet raised his head and looked at his master quizzically. Hawke slumped onto the bench and slipped an arm around his wife’s shoulders, his other hand sneaked to rest on the bump of their growing baby. According to the doctor’s calculations the baby was due just after the New Year and they had another month to go. They’d taken their time returning to the cabin; had spent time with Caitlin’s folks before they’d come back. It still felt strange to be back but it was home.

‘We’ve been home less than a week.’ Hawke grumbled as he felt his son kick firmly against his hand even through the layers of Caitlin’s clothing. He automatically rubbed her stomach and wondered again how his wife managed to get through each day with the baby kicking and moving so forcefully inside her.

Caitlin raised an eyebrow. ‘Which reminds me – you owe me ten bucks.’

Hawke leaned over and kissed her. She smiled as he moved back. ‘You can’t get round me that way. You bet me ten bucks after the welcome home party that we wouldn’t see Michael again until you went to work. Pay up.’

Hawke sighed and reached into his back pocket. He pulled out his wallet and handed her ten dollars. He’d just replaced his wallet as Michael and Marella reached them. They were both in the usual white; Michael in his three piece suit and Marella in a white flight suit. The female agent looked radiant. Her smooth café latte complexion glowed and her dark eyes simmering with secrets as always smiled at them. Her dark hair had grown out into a chin length bob which bounced as she moved.

Hawke stood up to greet her with a hug before he turned to Michael.

‘Hawke, how are you!’ The spy smiled at him.

Hawke glared back. ‘You couldn’t have waited another couple of days?’

Caitlin laughed at Michael’s shock and took Hawke’s hands. He pulled to her feet and she gave their friends a hug.

‘Ignore him, Michael. He just lost a bet. It’s good to see you too.’

Michael harrumphed and Hawke shrugged. He opened the door to the cabin and led the way inside. They all trooped over to the kitchen where Hawke started a pot of coffee whilst the others engaged in small talk.

‘So what brings you here? Business or pleasure?’ Hawke asked finally as he handed out mugs of freshly brewed coffee.

Michael sighed and accepted his cup with an inclination of his head. ‘Business, I guess.’

Hawke smiled. ‘Really.’ He shot a look at his wife. ‘Business huh?’

Caitlin rolled her eyes and slid the ten dollars back across the breakfast bar. ‘Easy come, easy go.’ She murmured and shifted position on the bar stool.

Michael cleared his throat to regain their attention.

Hawke gestured at him. ‘So what’s so important it couldn’t wait until I come in on Monday?’

‘We know who killed Dom.’ Michael said without any further preamble.

Hawke exchanged a shocked look with Caitlin. He lowered his mug to the counter. ‘Who?’

‘Rosalind Bening.’

Hawke stilled. Rosalind Bening was the sister of a corrupt army General who’d tried to steal Airwolf the year before. He and Dom had blown the general’s helicopter out of the sky and Rosalind had come after them seeking revenge. She had tricked Dom into believing she was someone else, someone who was in love with him. Luckily they had worked out her game and they had all survived her twisted attempt to destroy them. She had been injured in the final showdown, left in a coma the doctors had been sure she would never recover from.

‘She recovered from the coma?’ Caitlin asked stunned.

Marella nodded. ‘She was diagnosed as mentally unstable and moved to an institution in Boston. They’ve admitted she went missing in May.’

‘They’ve only just admitted it?’ Caitlin was incredulous.

‘They had to. Tania Bening and her daughter were murdered last week. When the investigators went to inform the institution they couldn’t produce Rosalind.’ Marella replied.

‘Rosalind is a prime suspect in the murders.’ Michael stated.

‘Revenge for Tania putting her in the institution, helping us, who knows?’ Marella said sadly. ‘Although Rosalind’s own bank accounts were frozen given her CIA background it’s likely that she had funds hidden away to help her disappear.’ She continued. ‘She definitely has the connections to have hired Jay Hammond.’

‘The authorities in Boston have tracked her here to LA. She arrived on a flight two days.’ Michael added.

‘Her beach house?’ Caitlin asked.

‘Deserted.’ Michael confirmed. ‘She’s insane but she’s clever.’

Hawke spoke for the first time since they had broken the news. ‘You think she’s coming after me next.’

‘I think so.’ Michael sighed.

Caitlin’s hand crept to her tummy.

Hawke reached across the breakfast bar and took her other hand in his. ‘You should leave.’ He said gruffly. ‘She’s knows how to get to the cabin.’

‘We should leave.’ Caitlin corrected.

‘We have a safe house up the coast.’ Marella said. ‘Full security already arranged.’

‘We want to move you both now.’ Michael said.

Hawke looked over at Caitlin and she read what he wanted to do in his blue eyes. She shook her head. ‘Don’t ask me.’ She said her voice trembling. ‘Don’t ask me that.’

‘Cait…’

‘No.’ She yanked her hand free of his and manoeuvred off the bar stool to make her way upstairs.

Michael and Marella shared a concerned look. The couple rarely argued.

‘Hawke,’ Michael began.

‘Leave it, Michael.’ Hawke said and went after his wife.

He found her opening their suitcase on the large bed. He closed the door behind him. She ignored him and moved between the closets, the dresser and the suitcase packing clothes.

‘Caitlin.’ Hawke folded his arms. ‘If I don’t stop her now, she’ll just keep coming after me.’

She didn’t even look at him and folded a sweater to pack it neatly into the suitcase.

Hawke stepped into her pathway and took hold of her hands. ‘You should go where you can be safe.’ He forced himself to continue at the sight of her tears and held her hands against his chest. ‘Cait, if I stay here, she’ll come to me. I can stop her.’

‘You could be killed.’ Caitlin pointed out. ‘It was only a few months ago, you almost were.’

‘I’ll be prepared for her this time.’ Hawke said.

‘You promised me you’d be there for us.’ Caitlin whispered.

‘This doesn’t change that and I need to do this.’ He freed a hand to nudge her chin up so she was forced into meeting his eyes. ‘I owe Dom.’

They looked at each other for a long time.

Caitlin sighed. ‘You don’t need to worry.’ She said pulling away. ‘I’m only packing my things. You’re right, I have to leave; I have to think of the baby’s safety first.’

Her tone was sharp and the implication clear; he wasn’t thinking of her or the baby. Hawke inwardly flinched and tried to push away the guilt she had prompted with her remark. He regarded the tense line of her back. He made a move toward her, thought twice and left the bedroom.

Caitlin heard the soft click of the bedroom door shutting and sat down on the bed giving in to the tears. Dammit, she thought angrily, she was due to give birth in just over a month, surely he could see that putting his life at risk now…she swiped at her cheeks and dried her eyes. She had to finish packing.

Downstairs, Marella tweaked the curtain back into place before she gracefully got to her feet and went over to perch on the arm of the easy chair Michael was sitting in by the fire.

‘He’s just standing staring at the lake.’ She said.

Michael lifted a hand off the top of his cane. ‘He’s right, you know. He can bait a trap here and get Rosalind before she can make another attempt to kill him.’

‘Maybe but I know I wouldn’t want my husband putting his life at risk that way a month away from the birth of our first child.’ Marella returned. Her voice was even and betrayed nothing of her own personal pain that she could never have a child of her own.

‘He’s doing this for Caitlin to make sure they’re safe.’ Michael pointed out.

‘He’s doing this because Rosalind killed Dom and he wants revenge.’ Marella shot back.

The two of them stared at each other.

‘You take Caitlin…’ Michael began.

‘You’ll stay with Hawke.’ Marella concluded.

—

Hawke sat on the porch steps and contemplated the gathering clouds in the sky above as Tet whined at his feet. It looked like there was a storm brewing. He took a gulp of beer and checked his watch. Caitlin would be tucked up in bed by now. The sheer effort of moving around tired her these days. Hawke sighed. Their goodbye had been hard; he wasn’t sure Caitlin was going to forgive him for the decision he’d made and deep down he honestly wasn’t sure she should; he was risking his life to get Dom’s killer when she and their baby needed him. Not to mention that she was probably worrying about him again, something else she didn’t need at the end of an already difficult pregnancy. But, Hawke thought, she and their son were safe away from the cabin and when he got Rosalind, they wouldn’t need to worry anymore or be parted again.

Hawke’s blue eyes turned icy as he considered Rosalind Bening. He could believe that she had been the one to organise putting that bomb into the helicopter; she was so twisted, so crazy. She had put Dom through one of the worst experiences of his life; conning him into falling in love with her before her true identity and purpose had been revealed. Hawke could still remember how torn up the older man had been at the revelation that the woman he had intended to marry was only after revenge.

Hawke heard the sound of the electric tool outside the door of the hangar. Dom was still up and working. He braced himself; this wasn’t going to be an easy conversation but it was one of the most important he had ever had in his life. Dom had been so angry with him over his investigating Rosa’s…no, not Rosa – Rosalind’s background. He touched the cut on his lip where the older man had punched him. Hawke sighed. Of course it didn’t help that he’d been proven right; that Rosalind did have ulterior motives over her relationship with Dom, fatal motives that had almost killed Dom earlier that day. He opened the door and stepped into the harsh white light. He followed the sounds until he came to a halt at the bottom of the workbench where Dom was sat.

‘Hey.’ He said trying to get Dom’s attention from the engine component he was fixing. The older man looked stern, his craggy face set in harsh lines.

‘It’s late.’ Dom said not looking up. Hawke knew it was way past midnight; it had been past midnight when Cait had finally chucked him out of bed and told him to go talk to Dom.

‘Yeah. I just…I just wanted to check you were OK.’ Hawke said. He hunched his shoulders and rocked back on his heels.

‘The doctor said I was fine. Just some pulled muscles and scrapes.’ Dom still hadn’t looked at him. Hawke struggled to find the right thing to say.

‘That wasn’t what I meant, Dom.’ He said at last.

Dom finally raised his head to look at him. There was anger in the gaze, embarrassment and pride, a whole lot of injured pride. ‘What do you want me to say, String? That I feel a fool.’ He said angrily. ‘Well, I do. An old fool.’

‘You’re not the first one of us to be fooled, Dom.’ Hawke reminded him quickly. ‘And I seem to recall you’re usually the first to tell us not to beat ourselves up about it.’

Dom harrumphed. He sighed and admitted that he’d really liked Rosa. ‘I just can’t believe my Rosa turned out to be General Bening’s sister. She was so twisted, String. Why couldn’t I see it?’

‘You wanted to believe in her.’ Hawke said gently.

‘I did want to believe in her.’ Dom admitted. ‘I wanted to believe a beautiful woman loved me.’ He sighed. ‘Who was I trying to kid?’

‘Dom…’ Hawke didn’t know how to comfort the other man; he looked so…defeated and disheartened.

Dom sighed again and looked up at Hawke. ‘Before she started shooting…she said some things, String. How she was going to destroy us both.’ He looked down. ‘She was going to kill Caitlin and then you. And she told me how she was going to destroy us, poison our relationship.’

‘She would never have been able to do that, Dom.’ Hawke denied firmly.

Dom’s eyes settled on Hawke’s split lip. ‘I don’t know, kid. I was pretty furious with you.’

‘We would have gotten past it.’ Hawke said confidently. ‘I know we kid around with each other a lot but we’re family. We’ll always be there for each other.’

Dom nodded slowly and his eyes warmed with humour. ‘Always is a long time, kid. You sure you want me around that long?’

‘I’m just glad we’ll get the chance to find out.’ Hawke returned.

‘So am I, kid.’ Dom pulled him into a hug…

Hawke frowned. Rosalind had taken that chance away from them when she’d arranged the bomb in the helicopter; Dom was dead.

‘Is this a private party or can anyone join?’

Hawke glanced up as Michael lowered himself carefully to sit beside him. The spy had left Hawke alone since Caitlin had departed with Marella and Hawke had been grateful. He sighed. He guessed even Michael’s patience wasn’t endless.

‘Do we have a plan?’ Michael asked.

‘She can only get her by horse, motorbike or chopper.’ Hawke said. ‘I figure we’ll hear her coming.’

‘You’ll hear her coming.’ Michael agreed. The pilot’s sensitive hearing was one of his hidden strengths. ‘And then?’

‘Best thing is to let her proceed as though she’s going to be successful.’ Hawke jerked his head back at the cabin. ‘I figure we’ll let her get inside and up to the bedroom. I’ll be waiting for her. You come up the stairs and back me up.’

‘Are you sure she’ll come inside?’ Michael questioned.

‘Yeah. She’ll want to do it face to face, Michael. She’ll want to gloat, torment me over what she did to Dom.’ Hawke swallowed hard; a flash of memory…Dom waving in the helicopter, the deadly bang and the ball of fire where the helicopter had stood. Hawke shuddered.

‘Will you be able to keep it together if she does?’ The question was gentle.

‘Honestly, Michael, I don’t know.’ Hawke admitted.

Michael was silent. As far as he was concerned, his decision was already made; if Rosalind Bening took one step into the cabin, Michael was going to shoot her dead. He wasn’t taking the chance of her getting close enough to Hawke to engage him. He sighed. ‘Marella checked in.’

‘Oh?’

‘She and Caitlin are settled into the safe house.’ Michael confirmed.

‘Good.’ Hawke’s voice betrayed none of the emotions that churned through him.

‘She’ll forgive you, Hawke.’ Michael said softly.

Hawke’s eyes flickered to him in surprise.

‘She loves you,’ Michael said, ‘and she understands.’

Hawke looked away from the compassion in the other man’s face. It seemed strange to be sat with Michael. He’d always had these conversations with…with Dom. He rubbed a hand over his face. ‘She thinks I’ve broken my promise to her.’ He found himself confiding.

‘Have you?’ Michael asked.

‘Maybe.’ Hawke sighed. ‘I promised I would be there for her and the baby.’

‘Seems to me all you’re trying to do is keep them safe.’ Michael contradicted him.

‘Am I?’ Hawke shook his head and gestured with the beer bottle. ‘I’d be lying if I said this had nothing to do with bringing Dom’s killer to justice. She knows that.’

‘And she understands it.’ Michael repeated. ‘She’s just worried about you. She almost lost you with that bomb and she’s scared she might lose you now. You, of all people, should know how that feels.’

Hawke felt a wash of guilt. Of course, he understood. God, his fear of losing her could sometimes bring him to his knees. He didn’t know how he would survive without her…he frowned.

‘What’s wrong?’ Michael asked seeing Hawke’s expression change.

Hawke glanced at the spy. ‘After Rosalind tried to kill Dom at her beach house, I went to Santini Air to see Dom, check he was OK…’

‘And?’ prompted Michael.

‘And we talked about Rosalind’s plans…’ Something in the memory was teasing at him; something that Dom had said. He got to his feet and paced.

Michael watched concerned.

The first raindrop landed on Hawke’s skin as his blue eyes widened with horrific realisation. He raced back into the cabin. He headed straight for the satellite phone. Michael followed after him, limping.

‘What’s wrong?’ Michael asked. Hawke’s panic was so evident that it immediately worried him; Hawke wasn’t the type to panic.

‘We need to raise the safe house.’ Hawke said, thrusting the briefcase open.

Michael hurried over to help him. He changed the frequency and dialled the number. He frowned. A dead tone. That couldn’t be right. His eye met Hawke’s. ‘It’s dead.’

‘Damn.’ Hawke grabbed the hand pistols he had stored behind the bar and handed one to Michael as they left the cabin and headed for the chopper. The rain was coming down hard and they were both damp when they climbed into the machine. The take off was fast.

‘It could just be the storm affecting communications.’ Michael suggested as they looped away from the cabin to the coast.

‘It’s Rosalind. She’s gone after Cait.’

‘How do you know?’ Michael asked

‘I remembered Dom told me that Rosalind was going to destroy me by killing Caitlin,’ Hawke muttered, ‘and I just handed my wife to Rosalind Bening on a plate.’

‘Oh my God.’ Michael said quietly as he confirmed the coordinates to Hawke. He knew Rosalind’s plan had a good chance of succeeding if she did kill Cait. There had been a kidnapping just before the helicopter explosion when Hawke had thought for four days that Caitlin was dead…Michael had found Hawke in the middle of the night with a loaded gun ready to end his own life. It was something that remained a secret between the two men and something neither had spoken about since it had happened.

Hawke steadied the chopper against the storm. He just hoped he hadn’t remembered too late. His fear rose through his gullet and choked him along with another wave of corrosive guilt. He pushed the helicopter beyond its top speed and wished it was Airwolf. He had to get to the safe house in time, had to. He couldn’t bear to think about the alternative.

—

Caitlin looked out of the window at the rain falling across the patio outside the bedroom she’d been assigned and sighed heavily. She hated how she’d left things with Hawke. Their goodbye had been too civil, too polite. It was a goodbye she would regret if…she jerked her mind off that track. She’d acted like a brat, Caitlin thought; so she wanted her husband safe and with her; Hawke wasn’t the type to back down from a fight and she’d known that when they married. It wasn’t even as though she didn’t understand. He wanted Dom’s killer brought to justice; so did she. Tomorrow, she thought, touching the glass pane and following a rivulet of water down to the wooden frame, tomorrow she would call him and apologise.

‘How are you doing?’

Marella’s voice drifted over to her from the doorway.

Caitlin turned to smile at the agent who’d become a close friend. She waved her into the room and wondered if she should switch on another lamp. ‘I’m fine.’

Marella looked at her sceptically.

‘Really.’ Caitlin assured her. ‘I’m fine.’ She sat down on the window seat as Marella moved to perch on the bed opposite.

‘Want to talk about it?’

‘You mean the way I cold-shouldered my husband and accused him of wanting to play hero when he needed my support?’ Caitlin sighed. ‘Not really.’

‘That’s being a little harsh on yourself.’ Marella said gently. ‘You’re heavily pregnant and you almost lost him, Cait. You have every right to want him to stay safe right now.’

‘But it’s not him.’ Caitlin sighed. ‘I complain when he tries to wrap me in cotton wool, Marella, and that’s just what I tried to do to him today.’ Her fingers stroked circles on her bump unconsciously through the thin robe she wore. ‘And I know he feels guilty about Dom’s death and I know if he gets Rosalind that’ll help him with that.’

‘Why would he feel guilty?’ Marella asked confused. ‘There wasn’t anything he could have done.’

Caitlin sighed. ‘It doesn’t stop him from wondering if he’d gotten to the chopper quicker, he might have been able to get him out. If he’d asked Dom to stop and take the phone call with him…’ She shrugged. ‘At least if he gets Rosalind, he might be able to feel that he did something.’

‘You want to call him?’ Marella asked gently.

Caitlin contemplated the suggestion and shook her head. ‘He needs to focus on what he’s doing. I’ll call him tomorrow.’ She stretched. ‘Hopefully this will all be over by then.’ She needed a change of subject, she thought. If she continued to dwell on the argument with Hawke she’d go nuts. Her blue-green eyes narrowed on Marella thoughtfully. ‘You know we haven’t had a chance to have a proper catch up since Hawke and I got back from Texas and seeing my folks.’

‘I guess not.’ Marella’s lips twitched.

‘So…’ pressed Caitlin, ‘how are things with you and Michael?’

‘Good.’ She smiled. ‘Better than good.’

‘So have two gotten around to…you know?’ Caitlin waggled her eyebrows suggestively.

Marella nodded and was surprised at the heat in her cheeks. ‘The night you left for Switzerland. I got back to Michael’s and it was like we both decided we weren’t going to waste anymore time.’

Caitlin’s mouth fell open. ‘Why didn’t you say something when you visited in Switzerland?’

‘Angelina was with us most of the time.’ Marella pointed out; she was unlikely to talk about her love life in front of Michael’s daughter. ‘She knows I stay over with Michael now but we’re not making a big deal of it.’

‘Oh. Right.’ Caitlin sighed and her eyes twinkled irrepressively. ‘And?’

‘And?’ Marella repeated delicately.

‘Marella!’ Caitlin laughed. ‘Come on, spill.’

Marella’s lips curved into a smug smile. ‘It was…wow.’

‘Wow, huh? That good.’

Marella nodded. ‘And before you ask your next question, we’re happy as we are.’

‘I wasn’t going to say anything.’ Caitlin denied although the question of when the couple would make it official had been hovering on her lips.

‘Hmmm.’ Marella didn’t believe her.

‘I’m happy it’s working out for you guys.’ Caitlin said.

‘Me too.’ Marella smiled. ‘How are you feeling about the baby? It’s just a month to go now isn’t it?’

Caitlin nodded. ‘Honestly?’ She looked down at her expanded stomach. ‘Scared.’

Marella’s smile turned sympathetic.

‘There are days I find it difficult to move around, I can’t sleep properly anymore and he’s so incredibly active, he wears me out but all I can think of is that I’d rather have him safe inside me than have to face pushing him out.’ Caitlin confessed.

‘You’ll be fine.’ Marella said. ‘You’ve faced worse things.’

‘I don’t know.’ Caitlin sighed and caught the other woman’s eyes. ‘Thank you.’

‘For what?’

‘Letting me moan about it.’ Caitlin said. ‘I know it’s tough on you.’

Marella nodded. ‘It still hurts that I’m never going to have a child of my own but…’ she crossed her arms, ‘since Angelina’s accepted me being with Michael, she and I have gotten closer. In a weird way she’s beginning to feel like my own daughter.’

Caitlin reached out a hand and Marella took it.

‘I want to ask you a question and if you don’t want to do it, I’ll completely understand but I would really love…’ Caitlin took a breath and tried to stop herself from babbling. ‘I’d like you to be the baby’s godmother.’

Marella was stunned. ‘What about your sisters? I mean won’t they…’

‘I want you.’ Caitlin said simply. ‘You saved Hawke’s life; you’ve saved mine. I don’t know how we would have gotten through all we’ve been through this year without you.’

Marella saw the sincerity shining from Caitlin’s eyes and felt sudden tears press up against her own. ‘I’d be honoured.’

The two women hugged and both smiled self-consciously as they wiped tears from the corners of their eyes.

‘How about some ice-cream?’ Caitlin asked as the familiar craving teased at her.

‘And a movie?’ Marella suggested.

‘Sounds good to me.’ Caitlin waved at the TV. ‘Why don’t you search the channels and I’ll get us the ice-cream?’ She left Marella and padded out of the bedroom. The thought of the chocolate confectionary already had her mouth watering. She made her way down the hall not bothering to switch on the lights. She headed straight for the freezer in the small kitchen and reached for the ice-cream. She stopped and pulled her hand back. The hairs on the back of her neck stirred and she straightened. Something was wrong. She turned in the small space and strained to hear anything through the rest of the house.

Nothing.

She frowned and closed the freezer door. There were two guards patrolling the house along with Marella and herself, she should be hearing something. She registered the flashing light on the microwave. The power had been cut. That was never a good sign.

Caitlin slipped out of her footwear and made her way stealthily back down the hall. She sneaked a look at the outside of the house to the front and slapped a hand over her mouth to stop the instinctive cry. One of the guards was lying face down on the concrete on the drive way. She jumped at the touch of something on her arm and found Marella right next to her.

Marella looked past Caitlin through the window and her expression stilled into angry lines at the sight of the guard. ‘Are you OK?’ She asked Caitlin in a stage whisper.

Caitlin nodded. ‘Rosalind must be here.’ She didn’t understand how or why but she knew it.

‘I agree.’ Marella said continued whispering. ‘We need to get out of the house. Now.’ She scanned the front of the house. ‘We’ll head out the front door and try to get to the car…damn!’

‘What?’

‘My keys are back in the bedroom.’

‘No problems. I can hotwire it.’ Caitlin said.

Marella raised her eyebrows but she didn’t argue. She handed her a coat. Caitlin shoved her arms into it as they moved out of the door and into the rain. It was awkward to keep low; her balance was so changed with the weight of the baby, but she tried, following Marella round the side of the house to where the cars were parked.

A shot rang out and hit the pavement beside them.

Marella grabbed Caitlin and helped her run around the side of the house. Another shot shattered the windshield of the car. They dived behind a bush.

‘Are you OK?’ Marella gasped. Her gun was in her hand and her dark eyes scanned the deserted street. She couldn’t see the shooter.

‘OK.’ Caitlin rubbed her tummy, trying to ease the cramp in her side. ‘I think she’s in the front garden.’

‘She’ll move.’ Marella said. Basic training, she thought quietly. Drive your targets into an exposed position. There was too much open ground between them and the cars; they needed more cover. Another shot bounced off the wall next to them and they ducked.

‘God.’ Caitlin’s eyes widened. The shot had come from a completely different direction.

‘She’s trying to drive us to the back of the house.’ Marella noted.

Caitlin nodded. The back patio opened out onto the beach with only a few sand dunes down to the ocean beyond. It was completely exposed; they’d be like sitting ducks. ‘We have to get back into the house.’

Marella’s head whipped round to her. ‘But we’ll be…’

‘Trapped. I know.’ Caitlin said, peeling her hair away from her face. ‘But she’ll have to risk showing herself to get to us.’

‘OK.’ Marella agreed trying hard not to think of the crime scene photos of Tania and her daughter. ‘But how do we get back in?’

‘If we go round the back she’ll think her strategy is working.’ Caitlin said. ‘We just need to make a run for the patio door.’

‘You up for it?’

‘No choice.’ Caitlin pointed out wryly.

Marella nodded. ‘OK. Let’s give it a go.’

They crept around the side of the house. Another shot rang out just behind them. Then another, driving them in the direction Rosalind had determined for them.

‘Let me get the door.’ Marella said resting them in their last position of cover before the few feet of open space to the patio entrance. ‘Stay here.’ Before Caitlin could argue, Marella made a run for it. Her hand was on the handle when the shot hit her. She slumped to the ground.

‘Marella!’ Caitlin took a step out from behind the bush and the bullet slammed into the tiles by her feet, then another, then another. A bullet whizzed past her cheek as she ran for the low wall separating the house from the beach. She stumbled over it and slid into the sand on the opposite side with a cry. Her hands went around her belly at a sharp pain and she gritted her teeth against the sudden agony. The world seemed to disappear around her as she focused on getting through the contraction. When the pain lessened, she was gasping for breath and shaking.

Caitlin pushed her wet hair from her face and tried to listen through the rain. How much time had passed? She had no idea. Her body froze at a sound. Somebody was coming down the patio steps. Caitlin shifted on the sand, looking for a weapon anything. Her eyes fell on a piece of driftwood about a foot away. She started to crawl towards it.

‘Don’t move.’

Caitlin froze and turned slowly back from her position on the ground to look behind her. The profile of a woman in black with the steel of a gun glinting in her hand was silhouetted against the stormy sky.

Rosalind Bening smiled at her. ‘It’s good to see you again, Caitlin.’ She said raising her voice over the rain and wind.

‘I can’t say the same.’ Caitlin said pushing her wet hair out of her eyes.

‘I have to admit, you surprised me.’ Rosalind said. ‘I thought I would have hit you before now.’

‘Sorry to disappoint you.’ Caitlin bit out.

‘You haven’t disappointed me.’ Rosalind grinned. ‘Shooting you would have been too easy. It’ll be so much better to slit your throat like I did with Tania.’

‘How could you do that to your niece?’ Caitlin said trying to stall her.

‘She was a bitch.’

‘She was your brother’s daughter.’ Caitlin argued.

‘She was a slut.’ Rosalind yelled. ‘Teasing Arthur, opening her legs for him. She didn’t love him like I did.’

‘Your brother abused her.’ Caitlin said. ‘Like he abused you.’

‘He loved me.’

‘He abused you.’ Caitlin repeated.

‘He loved me and your husband took him away from me!’ Rosalind took a step forward angrily. ‘So I’m going to take someone he loves away from him.’

‘You already have.’ Caitlin said. ‘You killed Dom.’

‘Yes but that was too easy. You…’ Rosalind bared her teeth, ‘losing you will destroy him completely especially when he finds your body gutted, your unborn child stabbed dead in your womb.’

Caitlin lashed out without thought. Her legs flew into Rosalind’s and upended the other woman on the beach. Caitlin was on her in a heartbeat, her fists pounding into Rosalind’s face. The other woman tried to dislodge her but Caitlin held on until another contraction hit. She tried to fight against it but it was too strong and she had to let go of Rosalind just to concentrate on getting her breath. Rosalind wiggled out from under her and kicked her in the ribs. Caitlin curled up around her unborn child. Almost over…another kick to her back…another near her shoulder. She moved again, rolling over when Rosalind went to kick her, grabbing the foot and yanking hard. The ankle broke and Rosalind screamed.

Caitlin got to her feet and staggered down the beach to the driftwood she had seen. She had only just picked it up when she sensed Rosalind coming up behind her. She swung out and caught the other woman under the chin. She watched with satisfaction as Rosalind’s head snapped back; she hit her again catching the gun and sending it flying through the air; another blow had Rosalind on the ground. Caitlin staggered away from her further up the beach and stopped as a sound cut through the roar of the ocean and the pouring rain.

A chopper was approaching. ‘Hawke.’ She murmured. He must have worked it out. She glanced back and saw Rosalind getting to her feet; the crazed woman was reaching for something by her ankle…another gun.

Caitlin’s heart pounded; she was too exposed for Rosalind to miss her. The chopper was landing but it would be too late…Hawke was going to see her shot dead.

Hawke raced out of the cockpit unaware of Michael following him. His footing slipped as he desperately tried to get in range…he had to stop Rosalind but she was taking aim…

Michael couldn’t see Marella and his breath caught tightly in his chest…was he too late already…Rosalind was about to pull the trigger…

Rosalind smiled at the frozen, drenched woman in front of her, aware of Hawke running up behind her…but he would be too late…he would see her killing Caitlin…her revenge was complete…

Time seemed to stop.

Rosalind’s finger remained frozen against the trigger as her eyes caught on a blurred figure beside Caitlin. Something else was there. Someone else was there. A white ghostly figure of…

‘Dominic?’ The word escaped Rosalind’s lips.

Shots rang out.

Rosalind crumpled onto the sand. Caitlin turned to look in surprise at Marella as the agent walked up to her unsteadily. Marella was clutching her shoulder but her gun was still trained on the unmoving form. Caitlin leaned on the driftwood as Marella came to stand next to her.

Hawke’s footing slipped and slid on the sand until he reached his wife and took her in his arms. Her hands clung to him and her mouth opened hungrily on his. He kissed her deeply before he covered her face with the lightest of kisses and simply held her against him. She was soaked through and trembling. She eased back and smiled as she saw Michael and Marella in a similar embrace. She gestured at the prone form of their assailant.

‘Is she dead?’ Caitlin asked.

Michael reluctantly let go of Marella and handed Caitlin his own gun. ‘Cover me.’ He reached down and checked Rosalind’s pulse before he straightened with a wince. ‘She’s dead. Three shots. Two to the chest. One to the head.’

‘The last one’s mine.’ Hawke noted. ‘I wasn’t taking any chances.’

‘It’s over.’ Caitlin said and brushed his short wet hair back.

Hawke nodded and turned her towards the chopper. ‘Come on. Let’s get you both out of here.’

‘What about clean up?’ Marella asked tiredly.

‘You don’t need to worry about it.’ Michael growled. ‘Let’s go.’

‘Good idea.’ Caitlin said.

Half-way to the chopper another contraction hit.

Hawke tried not to panic as she bent double with a low moan, her hand gripping his so tightly he blanched. ‘Cait?’

She heard the panic in his voice. ‘Contraction.’ She gasped.

Hawke swallowed hard. ‘But it’s early…’

‘It’s OK.’ Caitlin soothed him. ‘Erin had her baby earlier than this. We just need to get to the hospital because this baby wants to come now.’

‘What’s wrong?’ Michael asked anxiously coming to stand next to them. His arm was around Marella helping to support her.

‘We’re having a baby.’ Hawke said.

‘Now?’ Michael’s voice wasn’t far from the panic in Hawke’s.

Marella and Caitlin exchanged an amused look.

‘Guys,’ Caitlin said, ‘let’s just keep moving huh?’

‘Yeah. Right.’ Hawke helped Caitlin into the chopper whilst Michael took care of getting Marella settled.

The chopper journey was fraught. Hawke was pleased to see the hospital come into view and he set down with relief.

Caitlin gave a gasp almost as soon as she was out of the chopper and flushed at the sudden gush of wetness between her legs.

Hawke rubbed her back and tried to remember the classes they’d taken. ‘Breathe.’

‘What the hell do you think I’m doing?’ Caitlin snapped.

Hawke was pushed out of the way by a nurse who set Caitlin down into a wheelchair and started toward the lifts. Hawke followed after them, catching up to hold his wife’s hand as they headed for the maternity department.

Caitlin was quickly stripped of her damp clothing, dried off and ushered into a hospital gown. She struggled into a comfortable position on the bed and was grateful when Hawke moved to help her.

‘Let’s have a look at you.’ Doctor Anna Peters snapped her gloves on and sat on the stool wheeling it into position to examine Caitlin intimately and carefully.

Caitlin held Hawke’s hand tightly as they waited for the news.

‘OK. You’re not fully dilated yet but with your water breaking you’re too far along for us to stop this now.’ Anna covered Caitlin’s lower body and moved up the bed. She pressed some cream into her hands and rubbed it over Caitlin’s bare tummy before she took the scanner and peered at the monitor to the ultrasound image. ‘The good news is that the baby is turned and isn’t in distress.’

Caitlin heard Hawke’s sigh of relief and she squeezed his hand as she looked at him thankful beyond words that the night’s events hadn’t harmed the baby.

‘Will the baby be OK?’ Hawke had to check.

Anna wiped the excess gel off Caitlin’s stomach and covered her up. ‘It’s obviously not ideal to go into labour early but all the signs are positive.’ She caught Hawke’s stunned blue eyes. ‘You’re staying?’

‘I’m staying.’ He confirmed.

Anna nodded. It was getting more fashionable for the father to be part of the birth. ‘OK. Just don’t get in my way and don’t faint.’

Hawke nodded seriously.

‘You can feed Caitlin some ice-chips and help her through the contractions. The monitor we have you hooked up to will be timing them.’ Anna stood up. ‘I’m going to check on another patient. The mid-wife will beep me.’

‘Thanks, Doc.’ Hawke said.

A few moments later, he and Caitlin were finally alone. He pulled up a chair and sat down beside her. Their rueful eyes caught.

‘I’m sorry.’

They both smiled; they’d said the words at the exact same time.

‘I should never have left you and the baby alone,’ Hawke began.

‘Hey!’ Caitlin rubbed the hand she held. ‘You were trying to bring Dom’s killer to justice and take out a threat to us. I understand and I had no right to act like a spoilt brat because of it.’ She sighed. ‘It’s just…I feel like I’ve only just gotten you back after the explosion and everything, and I was just so scared I was going to lose you this time.’

‘I know.’ He sighed. ‘When I realised that Rosalind was after you…I know how scared I get about losing you, Cait and I’m sorry I put you through that.’

‘Well, we both came through it alive.’ Caitlin said. ‘That’s the important thing.’

‘Yeah.’

‘How did you work it out?’ Caitlin asked.

‘I remembered a conversation I had with Dom about Rosalind.’ Hawke said. ‘Worked it out from there.’

Caitlin cocked her head to one side thoughtfully. ‘You know she said his name.’

‘When?’

‘Just before the end.’ Caitlin’s fingers tightened on his. ‘I thought she was going to shoot but then she seemed to look to the side of me with this weird expression and…and said his name.’

Hawke had wondered why Rosalind had hesitated; it had given him and Michael the time to get into a firing position…and Marella.

‘Maybe she saw Marella.’

‘No.’ Caitlin shook her head. ‘Marella was the other side of me.’ She smiled. ‘Maybe it was Dom.’

‘Maybe.’ Hawke pressed a kiss to her knuckles. ‘He did say he’d be backing me in that dream I had.’

‘Maybe it was more than a…ah.’ Caitlin’s fingers clenched around his as a contraction hit.

For the next few minutes, their focus was on getting Caitlin through the pain. She settled back against the pillows with a tired sigh and accepted the ice-chips he handed her. Caitlin scanned Hawke’s worried expression. He needed something to divert him, she realised, or else he’d be hovering over her anxiously until the baby was born.

‘Do you think you could go and see how Marella is?’ Caitlin asked. ‘I’m a little worried about her.’

‘Sure.’ Hawke leaned down and kissed her cheek. ‘I’ll be right back.’

He wandered out and headed to the reception desk but he caught sight of Michael coming down the corridor before he could ask any questions and hurried over to him.

‘Caitlin’s asking how Marella is.’ Hawke said.

Michael pushed his wire-frame glasses back up his nose. ‘Marella’s in recovery. The bullet passed straight through her shoulder, no major damage. They’ve patched her up.’ His voice shook a little and Hawke directed the spy to a sofa area.

‘She did great, Michael.’ Hawke said.

‘How’s Caitlin?’ Michael asked regaining his composure.

‘In labour.’ Hawke said wryly. ‘I think she wanted rid of me for a few minutes.’

‘You two OK?’ Michael checked.

Hawke nodded. ‘With all that’s happened we’re both just scared of losing the other.’

Michael nodded. ‘It’s been a tough year.’

‘Yeah.’ Hawke said.

‘I’d better go and check on how things are going at the safe house.’ Michael sighed.

Hawke stood up. ‘I’d better get back to Caitlin.’

‘I’ll come back and wait here.’ Michael said. His good eye twinkled suddenly. ‘Marella’s given me orders that she wants to know as soon as the baby is born.’

‘I’ll come find you as soon as anything happens.’ Hawke promised. He waited until Michael moved back down the corridor and was out of sight. He shoved his hands into his pockets and turned back to the room where he’d left Caitlin.

‘Excuse me?’ A man stopped him; he looked incredibly flustered. ‘Is this maternity?’

‘Yeah.’ Hawke pointed at the desk. ‘Reception’s right there.’

The young guy grinned. ‘Thanks. My sister’s just gone into labour. I’m going to be an uncle!’ The last was said at a yell as he raced to the desk.

Hawke froze. His brother. He covered his face with his hands momentarily and rubbed at the tiredness in his eyes. He checked his watch. It was after midnight. Saint John had taken an apartment in town but there was no guarantee that he would be there. The Airwolf team were often out on missions…but he could try him. Would Saint John want to be called? The thought jolted him. Of course, his brother would want to know, he chastised himself; Saint John cared a great deal about Caitlin and the baby…he headed for a pay phone.

—

Saint John grinned at the inane joke Mike Rivers had just made and took another swig of the beer he held. Jo Santini was rolling around with laughter and even Jason Locke had cracked a smile. His hazel eyes swept over the group who had congregated at his apartment after a particularly fraught mission.

Jo was hitting Mike with a cushion. There were a similar age and Saint John couldn’t quite figure if they were going to settle into a brother-sister dynamic or whether they would end up with something a little more intimate. He felt a wave of brotherly protection for the small blonde female pilot. His relationship with Jo had settled back into familiar territory. They had helped each other through the first few rough months after his rescue, through the adjustment of working with Rivers and Locke, working with the Company and with Airwolf. Jo was family and he felt more than a twinge of guilt at the thought. He still hadn’t told her that String was alive and the longer he left it, the worse he knew it was going to be when she found out but protecting his brother took priority. His eyes slid to Locke.

He gulped down some beer. The African-American agent was essentially a good man, surprisingly ethical given his employment but Saint John knew he couldn’t confide in Locke about String. The other man would report it back to the Company. It seemed to him that Locke struggled with the decision he’d made to keep Airwolf’s location secret and access to her restricted against the Company’s wishes by trying to be an extra good agent in all other respects. He’d done the right thing in regards to Airwolf but it was against every loyalty notion he’d had drilled into him by the Company; it was no wonder he struggled. Locke was also still a little stuck in his ways and stuffy but Rivers was slowly nudging him out of it.

Rivers. Saint John’s gaze slid back to the younger man. He and Rivers and formed a fast friendship. The younger man had even moved into the apartment with him although that hadn’t quite been by design. The blonde, curly haired airforce major was irrepressible and more importantly, fairly laid back. Not that Rivers couldn’t get serious, it was just he preferred to keep things light and Saint John had needed that during the months of wondering whether his lie that his brother was dead would become a reality.

His brother…Saint John sighed. He knew String was back in California; they’d spoken when the couple had arrived back; when String had pointedly remarked that he and Caitlin were taking some time to settle back into the cabin, back into their lives. Saint John had taken the hint to leave them alone. His lips twisted wryly. It was ironic really; he’d spent years not contacting String because he’d wanted to be free of his brother’s dependence on him and yet now…now he wanted to be there for his brother, it was pretty obvious String could get along quite fine without him. He hated it.

The phone rang cutting through the conversation that had continued around Saint John.

Jo glanced at him. ‘It’s kinda late for a call.’

‘If this is a mission tell them we’re drunk.’ Rivers quipped.

Locke rolled his dark eyes.

Saint John reached across the sofa and snagged the receiver. ‘Hello.’

‘Saint John?’ Hawke’s voice travelled down the phone.

‘Hey.’

‘Hey.’ Hawke paused at the strange note in his brother’s tone. ‘Are you alone?’

‘Not exactly.’

‘Ah.’ Hawke cleared his throat and wondered if he’d interrupted an intimate moment or whether the rest of the Airwolf team were there. ‘Caitlin’s in labour.’ He said bluntly.

Saint John’s eyes widened and it was only years of undercover training that schooled his features into a blank expression for the others. ‘I see.’

‘Yeah.’ Hawke sighed. Airwolf team then by the lack of response. ‘Look, we’re at the Fox Ridge Medical Centre if you want to come by.’

‘Sure.’ Saint John was already mentally calculating how long it would take for him to get there.

‘I’ve got to get back to Caitlin.’ Hawke said finally frustrated at his brother’s calm even if he understood why it was necessary. ‘I’ll see you later.’

‘You can count on it.’

The words eased Hawke’s spirit. ‘Bye.’

‘Bye.’ Saint John put the phone down and turned to look at the expectant and speculative looks on his team’s faces. ‘Just a friend wanting to catch up next week.’ He said hoping he wasn’t going to choke on the lie.

‘I’d better get going.’ Jo murmured. She could tell something was up and she could tell he didn’t want to talk about it. She reached up and kissed his cheek. ‘Call me tomorrow?’ Maybe she could get him to talk then, she thought.

Saint John nodded.

‘I’ll see you home, Jo.’ Locke picked up his coat. ‘Gentlemen, as ever, it’s been a pleasure.’

‘Pleasure.’ Mike lifted his beer bottle. He watched the apartment door close behind Jo and Locke before his eyes shifted to Saint John. ‘So what was the phone call really about?’

Saint John shot him an exasperated look. ‘I have to go out for a while.’ He reached for his jacket.

‘Look, if you’re in some kind of trouble…’

‘I’m not.’ Saint John paused with his hand on the door handle. ‘I just need you to trust me on this.’

‘Sure.’ Rivers watched him leave and sighed. He knew Saint John was holding something back from them, the question was what? He frowned. He could follow him…no. He shook his head and began to clear up. Saint John would tell him when he was ready and he wasn’t risking the friendship he’d developed with him just to satisfy his own curiosity even if it was killing him. He wondered where Saint John had gone to and started speculating with a wild smile on his cherubic features. Maybe Saint John was having a wild affair with a married woman…

Saint John was happily oblivious to the imaginative scenarios Rivers was thinking up for him as he raced to the maternity reception at the clinic and tried hard not to feel conspicuous which was difficult given he was holding a giant stuffed teddy bear. He waited impatiently for the nurse to come free. The phone call from his brother had been a shock but he’d made his way as quickly as he could to the hospital; he was determined to be there for his family. He frowned when the nurse continued to talk on the phone and she sent him an apologetic smile.

‘Saint John Hawke?’

Saint John turned around and took in the man standing behind him. Spook, he thought, taking in the bizarre white outfit. The man carried a rosewood cane topped with a silver handle and wore glasses with one side blacked out. Definitely a spook, thought Saint John.

‘Yes?’ He answered cautiously.

‘I’m Michael Coldsmith-Briggs III.’ Michael held out his hand. ‘It’s good to finally meet you.’

Saint John shook the other man’s hand. ‘I’m not sure I understand.’

‘I know your brother.’ Michael explained.

Saint John made the connection. ‘You’re Archangel.’

Michael inclined his head.

‘Aren’t you supposed to be in the Far East?’ Saint John asked confused.

Michael didn’t answer the question but gestured instead at the sofas. ‘Shall we?’

Saint John glanced back at the nurse.

‘Hawke and Cait went into the labour room about an hour and a half ago.’ Michael informed him. ‘He said he’d come out as soon as anything happened.’

Saint John frowned and followed the spy. He sat down opposite him. ‘You were with them?’

Michael nodded and rubbed his moustache. ‘Well, given the situation…’

‘What situation?’ Saint John’s frown deepened.

Michael peered at him. ‘Hawke didn’t tell you?’

‘He was in a hurry to get back to Caitlin.’ Saint John said defensively.

‘Dominic’s killer made an attempt on Caitlin’s life.’ Michael said.

‘Dominic’s…’ Saint John’s eyes flashed angrily. ‘How?’

Michael explained what had happened; from the identification of Rosalind Bening as Dom’s murderer to their realisation that her target wasn’t Hawke but Caitlin and the race to the safe house.

Saint John wondered why String hadn’t called him. He was torn between anger and…and jealousy, he realised. His brother had trusted this spy to back him up instead of him. He took a deep breath and calmed down. It was early days yet, he reminded himself; String wasn’t used to having him around to call on anymore. He should just be grateful his brother had thought to tell him about the imminent birth of the baby.

‘So Dom’s killer is dead?’ He asked Michael.

‘Yes.’ Michael smoothed his moustache.

Saint John noticed the satisfaction that coated the words and wondered at the lack of humanity; the spy had no obvious qualms about Bening’s death. Saint John shifted uncomfortably on the sofa. He could be ruthless when he needed to be; he was a trained soldier after all but there was always a part of him that despaired at taking the life of another human being. He figured the spy had never had the same crisis of conscious.

Michael hid a smile. He had a good idea what was going through Saint John’s mind and he found it hilarious that Hawke’s older brother was rapidly coming to the conclusion that he was a bad influence. Perhaps it was time to change the subject. He pointed at the stuffed toy Saint John held. ‘Nice bear.’

Saint John coloured but before he could make a reply, a blonde woman arrived next to the sofas and leaned down to whisper a message to Michael.

‘If you’ll excuse me for a moment.’ Michael said getting to his feet.

Saint John nodded. He watched the spy disappear down the corridor and turned back to the bear. ‘Yeah. I don’t trust him either.’

—

‘OK.’ Anna Peters looked up at the nervous expressions on the couple in front of her. ‘You’re ready.’

‘I don’t think so.’ Caitlin argued, panting. She wasn’t ready; there was no way she was ready to become a mother. Why the hell she thought she could ever do this…

Anna patted Caitlin’s hand. ‘Baby disagrees. Now when I tell you to, push.’ She waited and as the next contraction hit yelled her orders.

Hawke moved swiftly to help support Caitlin’s back, sitting behind her and keeping an arm around her shoulders so she was in the best position to bear down. It was a frantic, noisy, exhausting ten minutes as he supported his wife as she struggled to give birth to their child. He’d never felt so helpless seeing the pain on her face as she strained and pushed. All he could do was hold on. Caitlin barely seemed aware of his presence; her world had reduced to the basic primal urge coursing through her and if her hand hadn’t gripped his tightly, he would have believed she didn’t know he was with her.

The baby’s cry rent the air and startled both of his parents. Hawke’s blue eyes widened at the sight of the squalling, messy infant in the doctor’s hands. His son. He looked back at Caitlin and their stunned eyes met. They both started smiling and followed the baby’s progress as the cord was cut, and he was weighed and cleaned, wrapped in a blanket and brought back to them. Caitlin urged Hawke to take the baby from the nurse whilst the medical staff cleaned her up. Hawke stood and the nurse placed the small bundle into his arms.

Hawke blinked the tears out of his eyes, cradling the tiny handful of baby against him. He looked down at the smooth skin and the delicate fingers that waved at him. He and Caitlin had created this small scrap of humanity; had made this baby. His son. He was a father.

‘Hello, son.’ His voice trembled.

Stunning clear blue eyes blinked open and looked directly into the damp blue eyes of his father. A wave of love swamped Hawke and for a moment he couldn’t breathe.

At the corner of his vision, he could see Caitlin was settled into position, her face tired but happy and she was reaching for out for the baby in his arms. He gently transferred their child to her.

Caitlin’s face lit up with pleasure and she smiled down tremulously at the baby in her arms. ‘Hello, I’m your Mommy. Hello.’ She kissed the soft forehead and smoothed back a tiny wisp of brown hair. A tear fell from her eyes onto the baby’s blanket. Hawke sat down next to her on the bed and reached across. The baby caught hold of his thumb; the tiny fingers wrapping themselves around him. He kissed his wife gently and held them both in his arms.

It was a while before Hawke remembered his promise to Michael or that his brother was probably waiting for him too. He walked back to the waiting area in a daze. He had a son. Saint John and Michael saw him at the same time. His brother moved swiftly and caught Hawke up in a hug before releasing him with a manly pat on the back.

‘How is she?’ Michael asked.

Hawke nodded and then felt all the worry and relief descend on him like a tidal wave. He couldn’t speak, his eyes filled with tears and his chest constricted with a sudden wave of emotion. Saint John guided him to a chair and he buried his head in his hands, rocking back and forth.

‘Is she…?’ Saint John couldn’t bring himself to finish the question.

‘She’s OK.’ Hawke managed to get out, trying to breathe as he swiped at the tears with the back of his hand.

‘Thank God.’ Michael sat back down heavily.

‘I just…’ Hawke shook his head. ‘That chopper ride to the safe house…I thought I’d lost her this time.’

‘She’s tough.’ Michael said. ‘How’s the baby?’

Hawke managed a smile. ‘Wonderful.’ His voice sang with pride. ‘Incredible. He has the tiniest fingers.’

Michael stood up. ‘Well, I’d better go and tell Marella. She’s been desperate for news.’

‘How’s she doing now?’ Hawke asked.

‘She’s OK.’ Michael said. ‘Annoyed at getting shot. I’d better get back to her.’

‘Michael, tell her…’ Hawke cleared his throat and got to his feet. ‘Tell her thanks.’

Michael nodded. ‘Give our love to Caitlin.’

Hawke clasped Michael’s outstretched hand.

Saint John shifted uncomfortably as the men exchanged a look which said more than words ever could. He was glad when the eye contact was broken as Michael moved away and sighed in relief.

‘Marella?’ He asked Hawke quietly.

‘Michael’s…partner.’ Hawke explained awkwardly. He hesitated. ‘Did Michael explain…?’

‘Yeah.’ Saint John hit him with the bear. ‘You should have called me.’

Hawke shrugged. Calling his brother to help hadn’t even occurred to him. ‘We had it covered.’

‘I would have liked to have gone after Dom’s killer too.’ Saint John muttered.

Hawke heard the hurt under the plaintive tone and patted his brother’s arm. ‘I’m sorry.’

Saint John felt his tension ease with the sincere apology.

Hawke gestured at the bear. ‘That for the baby?’

‘It might be.’ Saint John ruffled the bear’s fur. ‘Although I’m kinda thinking about keeping him.’

‘Come on.’ Hawke said getting to his feet. ‘You can give it to him personally.’

‘Are you sure?’ Saint John said nervously. ‘I don’t want to intrude…’

‘I’m sure.’ Hawke repressed a smile at his brother’s obvious alarm and pulled him towards the room they’d settled the new mother and baby in.

Caitlin smiled when the brothers entered. She was holding her sleeping son in her arms. She was tired but didn’t want to rest; all she wanted to do was watch her child. Saint John walked over and kissed her cheek whilst Hawke walked around to the other side of the bed and sat next to his wife, an arm going around her shoulders, another to gently cover the hand holding their child.

‘Hi.’ Saint John waved the bear.

Caitlin grinned. ‘He’s cute.’

‘He’s cuter.’ Saint John said indicating his nephew. God, the baby was small but he could already see the mix of his brother and sister-in-law in the shape of the face and the tiny features.

His brother’s blue eyes met his seriously. ‘Saint John, I’d like to introduce you to your nephew…’

Saint John waited for the name impatiently.

‘Dominic.’ Hawke said proudly. ‘Dominic Alan Hawke.’

fin.