Storytime with Rachel F Hundred

Stringfellow Hawke peered around the corner of a stack of crates and tightened his grip on his gun. His blue eyes narrowed as he sought to distinguish shapes in the murky darkness. He frowned and wished for the umpteenth time since entering the warehouse that he had refused the mission; chasing a double agent of a secret intelligence agency called the FIRM wasn’t his idea of fun. It hadn’t started as a chase; it had started as a simple surveillance mission in Airwolf, the technologically advanced helicopter that Hawke piloted in exchange for the FIRM finding his MIA brother. The mission had changed dramatically when they had realised the agent, a guy called Bellin, was about to sell the names of US operatives to the Russians. Hawke had chased Bellin and his two henchmen into the warehouse. He would have preferred to have blown the place to smithereens with any of the fourteen weapons available to him in Airwolf but the FIRM’s deputy director, Michael Coldsmith Briggs III wanted the agent alive so here Hawke was; crouched behind a stack of wooden crates in a warehouse that smelled like bad eggs, his gun in hand, his only back-up outside whilst he listened intently for footsteps that would give away the location of the bad guys.

He caught a movement at the bottom of the aisle and crept forward slowly, keeping his breathing steady. His jaw tensed at a small sound and he whirled, ploughing his fist into the firm stomach of the man who had tried to sneak up behind him. The guy grunted and with a meaty hand smacked Hawke across the side of his jaw. Hawke felt his head snap back and he staggered back a couple of steps, exaggerating his disorientation, hoping it would make his attacker underestimate him. The guy smiled and moved forward for another blow. Hawke jumped and kicked the guy firmly in the head sending him spinning into the column of crates which crumpled on impact burying the man underneath it. Hawke didn’t wait around but moved quickly away.

He slowed as he came to the end of an aisle and cautiously peeked around the corner. He almost groaned out loud at the sight of the warehouse door swinging open. His attention on the door, the blow to his ribs happened so fast and was so unexpected that he lost his breath completely and bounced into the metal corner of some kind of shelving unit, his gun flying from his hand. His brain registered the sting of a cut above his eye at the same time as it realised that he’d been hit with a briefcase. Hawke regained his balance to see Bellin and a second guy disappearing through the open door. He shoved a frustrated hand through his short brown hair and gingerly reached down to pick up his gun. He followed them out of the building at a run, every breath drawing attention to his tender ribs.

Hawke stepped out of the door to see a Jet Ranger helicopter moving away from the warehouse. He heard the distinctive whine of Airwolf’s engines and his eyes snapped to the shiny black nose as his partner Dominic Santini landed the aircraft nearby. He ran up and climbed into the pilot’s seat, Dom having already moved his bulky frame to the engineer’s console at the back of the aircraft. Seconds later they were air-borne, screaming away from the warehouse in pursuit of the other helicopter.

‘Weapons to combat mode. Turbos.’ Hawke instructed tersely. His body buzzed with adrenaline and he felt the invisible click in his spirit of that special something between him and the machine.

‘Weapons to combat mode. Turbos.’ Dom’s gruff voice confirmed in his ear and with a flick of Hawke’s thumb they were shooting forward at mach speed.

‘They’re dead ahead, String.’ Dom cautioned as they caught up with the escaping agent. Hawke eased up but still flying with more speed than any helicopter had the right to, he sent Airwolf into a move that saw her slam past the Ranger mere inches from its rotors. The Ranger shook, caught in buffeting crosswinds and the pilot struggled to steady it. Hawke turned Airwolf and repeated the manoeuvre.

‘Careful, String.’ Dom said as he watched the Ranger rock ominously. ‘Don’t forget Michael wanted them alive.’

‘This is Airwolf. Land your helicopter before we take it down for you.’ Hawke warned as he circled menacingly above them.

‘He’s taking it down, String.’ Dom’s voice hummed with amusement and it was followed by a cackle of laughter. ‘Now how many times does that happen?’

Hawke glanced back at his old friend and saw Dom’s gap-toothed grin peeking at him through the open visor in the football-like Airwolf helmet.

‘Not enough.’ Hawke said with a smile as they followed the Ranger’s descent at a safe distance. ‘Get me Michael.’ Hawke hovered above the landed aircraft, keeping Airwolf’s chain guns visible to keep them from escaping. Michael appeared on the video screen. He was impeccably dressed in his normal attire of white three piece suit, white shirt and tie with only a black eye-patch detracting from the overall effect. He lounged back in his white leather chair.

‘I take it you have Bellin.’ Michael said wryly.

‘Pinned down and ready to be picked up.’

Michael raised an eyebrow. ‘You’re not bringing him in?’

‘We don’t…’ Hawke began.

‘I know you only gift wrap, you don’t deliver.’ Michael smiled. ‘Have Dom transmit your coordinates, I’ll have a team at your location shortly. Archangel out.’ The image disappeared from the screen.

Hawke sat back in his seat wondering what had gotten into Michael with his last quip. It was a tense fifteen minutes wait until the FIRM team turned up to take custody of Bellin and his cohorts. Hawke saluted the lead agent in confirmation that they now had control of the situation and lifted Airwolf higher into the sky, turning her in the direction of home and hitting the turbos to take them to mach speed. He shifted in his seat trying to ease the strain on his bruised ribs.

‘I still think you should have someone look at those ribs.’ Dom said giving up the pretence of not noticing Hawke shifting stiffly. They’d already had a brief discussion about Hawke getting some medical attention which had ended with Dom throwing his hands up in defeat and muttering under his breath in Italian.

‘Dom, you’re getting as bad as Caitlin.’ Hawke said referring to the pretty, and absent, third member of the Airwolf crew.

‘We sure could have used her today.’ Dom said. ‘You might not have gotten surprised in the warehouse if she’d been covering your six.’

‘It wasn’t that bad.’ Hawke said dismissing Dom’s concern.

‘Hmmm.’ Dom glanced returned his gaze to the computer console in front of him. He had known Stringfellow and Saint John Hawke for most of their lives, raised them like his own sons when their parents had died. He could hear the fatigue and pain in Hawke’s voice. ‘At least tomorrow’s the weekend. Are you looking at houses like you promised that social worker, Mrs Taylor?’

Hawke shifted again in his seat and scowled at the mention of the woman who had become of the bane of his life. Four weeks had passed since he had invited Le van Hawke, a twelve year old boy who might be his missing brother’s son, to live with him following the death of Le’s previous guardian. Mrs Taylor was a sixty year old spinster who refused to be pressured or charmed into rubber stamping his custody of his nephew. In his more generous moments he accepted that she was trying to do the right thing by the boy and it was true that his own mountain cabin was too far from Le’s school and friends for it to be a viable home. Caitlin had offered them a place to stay until they found something suitable. ‘I’ll find something eventually.’ He muttered.

Dom sighed. ‘You’ve been saying that for the last four weeks. Don’t you think you’ve stayed at Cait’s place long enough?’

Hawke glanced back in Dom’s direction. ‘Has she said something?’

‘No,’ Dom admitted, ‘but then she’s got a heart as big as Texas and wouldn’t see you both on the street.’

‘For which I’m deeply grateful.’ Hawke said glibly, returning his eyes to the sky in front.

‘You should be.’ Dom shot back. ‘Have you even thanked her for giving you somewhere to stay?’

Hawke shifted in his seat and didn’t reply.

‘Not to mention her taking care of Le whilst you’re off flying Airwolf or flying for me?’ Dom continued. ‘And the rest of what she does to cover for you like attending Le’s school play this afternoon?’

‘I get your point, Dom.’ Hawke said defensively.

Dom harrumphed.

Hawke retreated into silence. Truthfully, he had no idea what he would have done without Caitlin the last few weeks. She’d helped him more than he’d had any right to expect or ask and she’d done it all without a single complaint. Besides from giving them a home, she’d stepped in to look after Le or be there for him when Hawke couldn’t be around, like with the school play. Hawke frowned. It wasn’t the first school event that he had missed in the four weeks since he’d become Le’s guardian; Le was going to be mad at him with good reason; he was going to have to do better. At least, Caitlin was always there. He hadn’t really thanked her for any of it, Hawke realised. He sighed and rolled his shoulders to ease the tension that had settled there. The thought kept him silent the rest of the journey back to the dusty cave of the Lair, Airwolf’s hiding place in the Valley of the Gods.

The streetlights were beginning to flicker to life as Hawke completed the final leg of his journey and pulled into a driveway on a quiet suburban street. He switched off the engine on his motor bike and pulled off his helmet. He leaned back and ran a hand through his brown hair as he regarded the two storey house with more than a little bemusement and a twinge of conscious. Dom was right, he thought, he was going to have to get his act together and find them somewhere to live. Cait’s house was great but it was too small.

Hawke sighed and dismounted, wincing again at the protest of his bruised ribs. He stowed the helmet and walked up the short path to the front door, pulling the keys from his jacket pocket. He frowned as he stepped into the open-plan living area, his eyes immediately alighting on the slim figure of Caitlin, curled up in the old overstuffed sofa reading a book. She was dressed in battered blue jeans and a large green sweatshirt that proclaimed her allegiance to Kappa Lamboa Chi. Her red hair was loose around her shoulders; her face scrubbed clean of makeup. Hawke wondered if she knew how cute she looked as he carefully ensured his own masculine appreciation didn’t show. She looked younger than her age and he felt every one of his own thirty-four years.

Hawke shrugged off his jacket and wandered over to slump into the seat beside her an unusual feeling of contentment stealing over him. His dog Tet padded over from the fireplace wagging his tail.

‘Half-pint?’ He asked using his nephew’s nickname as one hand reached out to touch Caitlin’s arm and the other patted Tet’s head.

‘Upstairs.’ Caitlin marked her place with a bookmark and laid the novel aside, her eyes sweeping over Hawke’s boyish features with exasperation as she noted the new cut above his left eyebrow and a bruise on the right side of his jaw. She reached over and swept a gentle finger over the colouring skin. ‘You forget to duck again, Hawke?’

He made a face at her. ‘It’s nothing.’

‘Hmmm.’ Caitlin contemplated whether it was worth spoiling the moment with an argument on first aid treatment and decided to leave it alone; she needed to tell him about something else. She cleared her throat. ‘Le’s real upset you missed the play.’

Hawke winced and allowed his head to fall back against the sofa, closing his eyes on a sudden wave of exhaustion. ‘Yeah. I figured. I’ll make it up to him.’

Caitlin bit her lip and wondered whether to say anything more. She sighed. ‘You look tired.’

Her quiet words had him opening his eyes to blink at her blearily. He shrugged a little self-conscious at her observation and she patted his knee as she pushed herself off the couch. ‘Why don’t you say hello to Le, grab a shower, I’ll start dinner.’ She walked through into the kitchen area; Hawke followed her.

‘You didn’t need to wait dinner on me.’ He rubbed his ribs and dropped his hand when he noticed her eyes narrow on him.

‘I didn’t. Le’s eaten already but I wasn’t hungry earlier.’ Caitlin pushed him in the direction of the stairs. ‘Go. I don’t want you getting underfoot whilst I cook.’

Hawke gave in and made his way up the stairs. He frowned at the closed door to the room he shared with his nephew and knocked before pushing it open. The young Amerasian boy was sprawled on his stomach on one of the beds reading a comic. He briefly looked over his shoulder at his uncle before his dark eyes returned to the Superman story.

‘Hey.’ Hawke said softly.

Le’s eyes remained fixed on the antics of the superhero.

Hawke sighed and took a couple of steps into the room. He sat down on the second bed opposite his nephew.

‘I’m sorry, Le.’

The sincerity in his voice had his nephew glancing up at him with accusing eyes. ‘You promised you’d be there this time.’

‘I know but something important came up…’ Hawke began.

‘Something always comes up.’ Le complained. ‘You’re never around.’

Hawke sighed. ‘I know I haven’t been around that much but I’m going to do better.’

‘How?’ Le said plaintively. ‘You’ve got your job with Uncle Dom and Airwolf. We haven’t even had time to find our own place.’

Hawke pushed down the rising panic in his gut the question evoked. ‘Well, we’ve got some time this weekend…’

‘You said I could go over to Billy’s tomorrow.’ Le reminded him.

Hawke pushed his hand through his hair. He’d forgotten he’d given Le permission to spend the day and then stay over with his school friend – something to do with the attraction of a new computer game.

‘Well after I pick you up on Sunday how about we go up to the cabin and do some fishing, spend some time together just the two of us?’

Le shrugged. ‘Fine, I guess.’

‘OK.’ Hawke stood up and gathered clean clothes. ‘I’d better go shower and get something to eat.’

Le nodded and Hawke patted his nephew’s thin shoulder on his way out of the room. He closed the door and headed for the shower. A few minutes later he was standing under a satisfying rush of pounding hot water. He sighed and reached for the shampoo. He wasn’t happy at the way his conversation with Le had gone. It bothered him that he’d had no reply to how he was going to do better. Hell, his friends were already doing more than their fair share to help him make it work and he was already juggling as much as he could.

He rinsed off and was tempted to stay for longer as his muscles unwound and his body relaxed but decided it wouldn’t be fair to leave kitchen duty completely to Cait. He truly was blessed with his friends, he thought as he turned the shower off; they were more like family really. Dom Santini had been part of his life for as long as he could remember; a father figure who had become his best friend. Michael Coldsmith Briggs III on the other hand was someone who he had never thought he would call friend. Michael was a spy through and through but he was a good man and he had been more than fair to Hawke. They had built up a great deal of mutual respect in the last couple of years and Hawke would trust him with his life – indeed he often did.

Caitlin O’Shaunessy was a relatively new friend and yet it seemed like they had known each other for years, Hawke mused as he reached for a towel. He wasn’t a man to trust easily yet with Cait it had been as natural as breathing. Perhaps it was the circumstances of their meeting in Pope County, Texas. Caitlin, a cop at the time, had risked her own life to give him a chance. Even when she had tracked him down, he had never questioned her place in his life; she just fitted. He dropped the towel into a basket and pulled on clean clothes before he pushed his fingers through his damp hair and wandered out.

The smell of grilling tuna greeted him as he entered the kitchen and his stomach rumbled in hungry anticipation. Caitlin was stood with her back to him, chopping peppers to complete a salsa.

‘You could have taken longer.’ She glanced over her shoulder at him, pleased to see he looked much less tired. He shrugged in response.

‘Anything I can do?’ He snagged a raw carrot stick from the prepared salad.

‘You can set the table.’ Caitlin picked up a fish slice and flipped the tuna. She would have preferred steak but Hawke wasn’t overly fond of meat and she was in a mood to indulge him.

Hawke hunted through the cupboards and drawers for flatware, cutlery and napkins. He set the small round table by the French windows that overlooked the back yard. He stepped back and regarded the table thoughtfully. Something was missing. He looked around the kitchen and his eyes fell on an old brass candlestick complete with the short stub of a white church candle. He stuck it in the middle of the table, slightly off centre and hunted for matches to light it. The flame was just flickering to life when Caitlin appeared by the table a bowl of salad in one hand, the salsa in the other, a bottle of wine tucked under her arm. Hawke was suddenly uncomfortably aware that the table had a romantic glow.

‘Can you get the wine?’ Caitlin asked, her eyes catalogued the intimate setting and inwardly smiled. A short time ago she would have given her right arm for a romantic meal with Hawke but it seemed that he didn’t see her that way and she had resolved not to pine after him like some lovesick teenager. She dumped the dishes on the table and went back for the fish and baked potatoes. It worked most of the time, she thought ruefully; most of the time she was happy being a valued friend but there were still moments when she wished he would just once react to her as an attractive woman. She sighed, pushed the thought to the back of her mind and returned to the table. She picked up her cutlery as Hawke poured the wine.

‘How did it go with Le?’ Caitlin asked.

Hawke shrugged. ‘He’s talking to me.’

‘Well, that’s a good thing.’ Caitlin said encouragingly.

‘Yeah.’ Hawke picked up his knife and changed the subject.

Ten minutes later, they were making inroads into the simple meal and Cait was chatting about her day of looking after Santini Air.

‘So what’s the plan for tomorrow?’ She asked taking a sip of her wine. ‘I guess I’m covering Santini Air.’

Hawke caught the slight edge to her last statement. ‘I know we’ve been doing that a lot lately. Leaving you to cover, I mean.’

‘I don’t mind.’ Caitlin smiled at the look of patent disbelief he shot at her. ‘OK so I do mind a little. It’s just that….’ Her voice trailed away and she shrugged again. ‘It doesn’t matter.’

‘You’re not usually this backwards in speaking your mind.’ Hawke remarked as he glanced up from his meal. ‘What is it?’

‘You and Dom seem to have forgotten that I’m part of the Airwolf crew.’ Caitlin blurted out before she could stop herself.

Hawke gave a short laugh as he speared a lettuce leaf. ‘Cait, after everything that’s happened, you really think we’d forget that you’re part of the team?’

‘I know it’s silly.’ Caitlin flushed. ‘But every time we get a mission I’m the one who stays behind these days.’

‘I know we’ve been leaving you behind lately but it’s only because one of us has needed to stay with Le.’ He sighed and shook his head. ‘You could’ve done the mission today though. I don’t know why Dom and I didn’t think about it.’

Caitlin nodded. ‘I could’ve and you and Dom don’t think about it because you’re both old fashioned when it comes to women. It’s natural for you both to assume that I’ll be the one to take care of Le.’

Hawke almost choked on his wine. ‘Are you calling me a chauvinist?’

She smiled. ‘Well, if the shoe fits….’ Her smile turned a little wistful. ‘Actually, I love looking after Le so I haven’t exactly seen it as an issue. I guess I’m just feeling a little left out.’

Hawke tapped his fingers against his wine glass and his gut clenched unexpectedly as his conscious stirred; Dom was right; he had taken advantage of Caitlin’s generosity. ‘You know I don’t think I’ve thanked you yet.’ He said, taking a sip of wine.

‘What for?’ Caitlin looked up and he smiled at her bafflement.

‘For this.’ He gestured. ‘Taking us in. Looking after everything. Laundry.’

Caitlin laughed. ‘It’s not a big deal. Besides you would do the same for me.’

Hawke was stunned at the absolute certainty in her voice. It took him a moment to find his voice. ‘Well anyway thank you. For everything.’

Caitlin blushed and was thankful for the candlelight. They smiled at each other across the table until an unexpected frisson of attraction had Hawke reaching for his wine again. ‘So, anyway, Dom’s covering the airfield tomorrow.’ He cleared his throat. ‘I was hoping you’d come house-hunting with me.’

Caitlin’s eyes widened. ‘House-hunting?’ The food she had just eaten suddenly lay heavy on her stomach.

Hawke nodded and resumed eating. ‘Like I said, you’ve been great but I guess we can’t stay here forever.’

‘I guess not.’ Caitlin murmured. She’d known the situation was temporary but she’d gotten used to having Hawke and Le around the house; it was going to be empty without them. She smiled brightly to cover her disappointment. ‘Sure, I’ll come house-hunting with you.’ She reached for her wine and took a healthy gulp. ‘Le still staying with Billy tomorrow night?’

‘Yeah. I figure we’ll head to the realtors once we’ve dropped him off.’

‘Sounds like a plan.’

Hawke nodded and was grateful as she moved the conversation on to the latest news scandal hitting the headlines. Finding a home for himself and Le was a start, he thought, letting his attention wander; it was a start but he still had no idea how he was going to make it all work, he realised with a sinking heart.

—

‘I think the second house had promise.’ Caitlin said, taking another bite of pizza. It had been a long day. They’d looked at more houses than she cared to remember until Hawke had called a halt for the day. They’d staggered back to her house to review their progress, or rather their lack of progress.

‘As what?’ Hawke asked swallowing the last of the slice he’d picked up; he’d eaten with more speed than grace. ‘It was a dump.’

‘It just needed cleaning up.’

‘It needed demolition.’

Caitlin rolled her eyes. ‘What about that last place? It wasn’t too bad.’

‘Too expensive.’ Hawke reached over and grabbed another slice from her plate.

‘So it was at the top of your budget…’

‘And only had one bedroom.’ Hawke pointed out.

Caitlin sighed and wiped her fingers on a paper napkin that had come with the pizza delivery. Hawke had come up with reasons why all the houses they’d seen weren’t quite right. If she didn’t know better, she’d think he was deliberately trying to avoid finding somewhere. She reached for her notebook and checked the appointments they’d lined up for the next day. ‘OK. We have another three places to see tomorrow morning before you head up to the cabin.’

Hawke winced but was saved from a reply as the doorbell went. ‘I’ll get it. It’s probably Dom.’ He made his way to the front door and opened it just as the phone rang. He ignored it – Caitlin would get it.

‘Hey.’ Hawke greeted Dom with a smile and a brief hug.

Dom grinned back at him. ‘So how’d it go?’ He asked shrugging off his jacket and following Hawke into the house.

‘Hawke!’

Caitlin’s panicked shout had them both running to the kitchen. She was pulling on her jacket and trying to fish her car keys out of her handbag at the same time.

‘What’s going on?’ Hawke asked taking in her pale worried face.

‘That was Angie, Billy’s Mom.’ Caitlin said. ‘Le’s missing.’

‘What do you mean missing?’ Hawke asked reaching for his own jacket.

‘She left them playing a computer game in Billy’s room but when she went to check on them, Le had gone. Billy said he’d left a couple of hours ago.’ Caitlin explained. ‘I’ve told her not to call the police yet.’

Hawke ruthlessly ignored his own panic; soon after he’d met Le for the first time, the youngster had run away. They’d found him that time; they’d find him this time too. ‘You stay here in case he comes back. Dom and I will go and look for him.’

‘But…’ Caitlin’s protest died on her lips and she watched unhappily as the two men made their way out of the house.

‘Dammit!’ Hawke pushed a hand through his hair. They’d been everywhere in the last few hours; all the haunts that Hawke had been driven to the last time Le had returned to the streets; the old house Le had shared with his aunt. There was no sign of him. Now the streets were dark and artificial light surrounded the car, reflected off the windscreen, as they headed back to Caitlin’s house. They pulled up in front of the building and Hawke frowned. Caitlin’s car was missing.

‘Aw, that girl just can’t help herself.’ Dom said gesturing at the empty space as they walked to the front door. ‘She should have stayed here like we said.’

Hawke’s lips thinned but it was the only outward sign of his own opinion of Caitlin’s disappearance. He opened the door and headed straight for the kitchen. Cait usually pinned messages to the fridge with a magnet.

‘As much as I hate to say it, kid, I think its time to call the cops.’ Dom said quietly following him.

‘No need.’ Hawke murmured picking up the message Caitlin had left for him and reading it again. He handed it to Dom. ‘Cait got a call from the cops. They found Le at some nightclub. She’s gone to pick him up.’

‘Oh.’ Dom’s eyebrows rose and he read the message. ‘Guess I was a little hasty with what I said back there, huh.’ He admitted a little ruefully.

Hawke sighed. The police would no doubt notify the social worker; he might end up losing custody…he wondered at a momentary surge of relief and a wave of guilt flooded him. ‘I could lose him, Dom.’ He muttered.

‘Kids run off all the time.’ Dom said leaning over the counter. ‘You won’t lose him over this.’

Hawke caught the inflection in the older man’s voice. ‘But I will over something else?’

Dom straightened. ‘Now, String, I didn’t mean it like that.’

‘How did you mean it?’ Hawke demanded.

Dom sighed. ‘All I’m saying is that if you’re serious about raising Le you need to make some real changes and stop relying on Caitlin to keep bailing you out.’

‘I’m not relying on Cait to bail me out.’ Hawke denied.

Dom shot him a look and Hawke flushed.

‘OK,’ he admitted, ‘Cait’s been helping out and I’ve been taking advantage of that but I’ve spent all day looking at houses…’

‘There’s a lot more to raising a kid, String, then finding somewhere to live.’ Dom said. ‘You know that.’

Hawke turned and grabbed the coffee pot. He poured them both a mug of the stewed black brew.

‘You know when you first wanted to adopt Le back when you first found out about him you said you’d have a quieter life.’ Dom said as he took the mug.

‘That was when I thought Saint John was dead.’ Hawke muttered. His eyes met Dom’s. ‘Besides I thought you were against me giving up Airwolf back then.’

‘Well back then, you were rushing into everything because your head was all…all screwed up by that McBride guy telling you your brother was dead.’ Dom gestured with the coffee mug. ‘I was against you making any rash decision.’

Hawke sipped his coffee and rocked back on his heels. ‘If I give up Airwolf now I might never find Saint John.’

‘Maybe it’s time to move on, String.’ Dom said gently. ‘We’ve been flying Airwolf for over a year and a half now. How much longer are you thinking we can keep doing this for?’

Hawke was about to reply when his ears caught the sound of an engine outside. ‘They’re back.’

He and Dom made their way through to the living room and a few seconds later the front door opened. Caitlin pushed Le through the door and stood behind him, her hands resting on his shoulders as he stared sullenly at Hawke for a long moment before he tore out of her grasp heading for the stairs. Hawke covered the space between them to grab him before he reached the first step.

‘Let me go!’ Le struggled against him and Hawke almost lost his hold. He wrapped his arms around him and held on until Le subsided into sobs against him. He made comforting noises until the crying stopped and then he gently pulled back to look into the youngster’s eyes.

‘You scared me.’ Hawke said.

Le swiped a hand across his nose. ‘I’m sorry.’

Hawke rocked back on his heels, still keeping one hand on Le’s shoulder. ‘Do you have any idea of the worry you’ve caused everyone?’

Le shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans as he looked down at the carpet.

Hawke sighed deeply. ‘Have you eaten?’

‘The police gave me a burger.’

‘OK.’ Hawke said. ‘Why don’t you go up to bed? We’ll talk more in the morning.’

Le nodded again and made his way up the stairs. Hawke watched him until he disappeared. He turned back to meet Caitlin’s sympathetic gaze.

Hawke rubbed the back of his neck. ‘How much trouble am I in?’

Caitlin sighed and shrugged off her jacket. ‘Mrs Taylor was already with Le when I got there. It was bad luck; she was the on-call social worker.’ She bit her lip. ‘She wants to meet with you first thing on Monday at her office.’ She saw Hawke’s expression close up and she threw her jacket and handbag on the couch. ‘I’d better go phone Angie and let her know Le’s safe.’ She wandered through to the kitchen leaving Hawke alone with Dom.

‘It’ll be OK, kid.’ Dom laid a comforting hand on Hawke’s shoulder. The younger man didn’t respond and Dom sighed inwardly. ‘Well, I’d better head out.’

‘Thanks for your help, Dom.’ Hawke said following him to the front door.

Dom waved the gratitude away. ‘Just think about what we talked about, String. Will you do that?’

Hawke shuffled his feet and nodded unhappily. Dom sighed and clasped the back of Hawke’s head as he pulled the younger man in for a brief hug. ‘It’s for the best, String.’

Hawke watched the older man jam his red cap over the grey curls before getting in the car and driving away. He closed the front door and locked it with a tired sigh.

‘It’ll be OK.’ Caitlin’s voice had him turning back into the living room. She was standing by the counter that separated the living room from the kitchen, her hands wrapped around a mug of coffee.

Hawke sighed tiredly. ‘I’m going up. I’ll see you in the morning.’ He said gruffly. He took the first couple of stairs before he turned back to her. ‘Cait…’

Her blue-green eyes met his questioningly.

‘Thanks.’ Hawke said.

She smiled. ‘You’re welcome.’

He nodded and continued up. He paused in the doorway of the bedroom and leaned a shoulder on the frame. He looked in at the sleeping boy sprawled across one of the beds.

Dom was right, Hawke thought, he did need to make some serious changes if he wanted this to work. He tried to suppress the plummeting sensation in his stomach. He was beginning to realise that his offer to have Le live with him hadn’t been that well thought out. He’d definitely missed the implications of being a single father and juggling the rest of his life. Could he give up Airwolf? He sighed and moved into the room. He was going to have to figure out the answer to that question.

The dilemma was still weighing on him the next morning. He sat on the deck in the backyard watching the sunrise, Tet sprawled at his feet. He took a sip of freshly brewed coffee trying to ignore the resentment that he wasn’t on the landing pier at the cabin seeing the sun come up over a lake and a mountain instead of a heated pool and the roof of a neighbouring house.

‘You’re up early.’

He didn’t turn his head but kept his gaze on the yellowing sky. ‘I didn’t mean to wake you.’

Caitlin stumbled to sit beside him. ‘You didn’t.’ She admitted. ‘I didn’t sleep that well.’

He nudged her bare knee with his own jean-clad one. ‘Me either.’

His quiet confession startled her into looking at him. It wasn’t often Hawke allowed anyone to see he was troubled about something.

‘You OK?’ She asked.

Hawke sighed. ‘I’m wondering how I make this work,’ he admitted.

‘You just keep doing the best you can.’ Caitlin said trying to reassure him. ‘It’ll work out.’

‘Dom thinks I should give up Airwolf.’

Caitlin rubbed her knees and tried to ignore her blossoming disappointment at the idea. ‘What do you think?’

Hawke sighed again. ‘I think I made the kid a promise and I need to find someway of keeping it.’

Caitlin patted his arm. ‘You will.’

Her quiet confidence in him brought a reluctant smile to his lips.

‘What are you going to say to Le about him running away?’ Caitlin asked.

‘I don’t know. I thought I’d talk to him. See how it goes from there.’

‘It sounds like a good plan.’ She looked across at him and caught a rare look of worry in his eyes. She chewed her lip for a moment before speaking. ‘Look, why don’t I cancel those house appointments this morning? You and Le can head straight up to the cabin.’

Hawke shook his head. ‘Le can come with us.’

‘Why don’t I duck out at least?’ Caitlin argued. ‘Give you and Le some time together alone.’

‘You don’t need to do that.’

‘I think I do. Wait,’ she held a hand up to stop him interrupting her, ‘I spent most of last night doing some thinking and I realised that I’ve prevented you and Le spending time together…not intentionally but…’ she sighed deeply. ‘You have your stubborn look.’

‘I do not.’

‘You do too.’

‘I just think it’s a load of nonsense.’ Hawke frowned. ‘I don’t know what I would have done without you this last month.’

Caitlin tried to ignore the warm glow his words gave her. ‘Still, I think it would be good for you and Le to spend some time without me hanging around.’

‘I’ll have all day with Le once we have the house-hunting done.’ Hawke insisted and took her hand. ‘Please.’

Caitlin couldn’t resist the plea in his blue eyes and she silently admitted to herself that she was pleased that he wanted her help. ‘Well if you insist…’

‘I do.’

Caitlin nodded. ‘OK. Well, I’d better go up and get dressed.’ She staggered back to her feet. Hawke reluctantly let go of her hand and resolutely ignored the voice in his head asking him why he’d been so insistent on involving her as he followed her into the house to wake Le.

Hawke was still ignoring the voice much later as he sat on the bench outside the cabin, looking up at the blue sky and letting the clear air and familiar scenery of the lake relax him. He dragged his attention from the view as Half-pint came running up and flopped into a seat beside him, an exhausted looking Tet following on behind him.

‘You should have come for a run, Uncle String.’ Le took the bottle of water Hawke handed him and downed half of it.

‘Nah.’ He ruffled the almost black thatch of hair on Le’s head. ‘Haven’t you heard running is bad for you when you get to my age?’

Le snorted and Hawke smiled. His smile faded as he turned his attention to what he needed to do.

‘Le we need to have a talk.’

‘Uh oh.’ Le wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. ‘I really am sorry, Uncle String.’

‘I know,’ Hawke said his tone rich with amusement, ‘and I’m sure that has nothing to do with your punishment which I’m still thinking on.’ He paused and cleared his throat, ‘So what were you doing at a nightclub?’

Le shrugged and scuffed at the dirt with his trainer.

‘Half-pint?’ Hawke prompted.

‘I thought…what if my Aunt Minh was right? What if she did find my Mom?’ Le blurted out.

‘So you were looking for your Mom?’ Hawke asked.

Le nodded and avoided Hawke’s steady blue gaze. ‘I thought if I found my Mom then I wouldn’t need to live with you anymore and we could go back to the way it was.’

Hawke took a deep breath and rubbed at his chest at the sudden sharp pain there. ‘Half-pint, don’t you want to live with me?’ He asked seriously.

Le shrugged again. ‘You’re never around,’ he complained plaintively, ‘besides you won’t want me now anyway.’ He concluded miserably.

‘I’ll always want you Half-pint.’ Hawke pulled Le close to him and they hugged fiercely for a long moment. Le inched back swiping at his face with the back of his hands.

Hawke let him go and leaned forward. He clasped his hands. ‘This doesn’t make what you did right. Nothing justifies you running away like that. You caused everyone who cares about you unnecessary worry; you put yourself in danger. Your methods on getting my attention were way out; are we clear on that?’

‘Yes sir.’ Le looked down at his trainers.

‘You did have a point.’ Hawke gently said. ‘I know I haven’t been around as much as I should be but I’ve promised I’m going to try to do better, and I will but I’m going to need some time. You have to trust me to work this out for us, Le.’

Le stared at the ground. Hawke caught Le’s chin with his hand, nudging it so that Le would meet his gaze. ‘I made you a promise Half-pint I intend to keep it.’ He hugged the boy to him and wondered again how he was going to keep it.

—

The department of child welfare was crammed into the top corner of one of the city’s buildings. Hawke’s nose wrinkled as he made his way through an endless succession of stark pale green corridors on his way to the interview room; the air stank of sweat, photocopier ink and moulding paper. He finally found the right place and knocked briskly on the wooden door. He took a deep breath and stepped into the room at the summons to enter.

His first impression was that the room was bare; its starkness accentuated by the artificial light. The walls were the same pale green as the corridor, marked and scuffed in places. A single rectangular table stood in the centre of the room with three green plastic chairs arranged around it; Mrs Taylor occupied one. The short, round woman reminded Hawke of a fat brown sparrow; non-descript brown hair, brown eyes behind brown glasses – even her outfit was a bland beige. He took the seat she indicated and rested a hand on the table edge.

‘Thank you for coming, Mr Hawke.’ Mrs Taylor looked up from the notes she had been reading and uncapped her pen writing in her ubiquitous notebook. ‘I wanted to speak to you about the events of Saturday evening.’ She paused and looked at Hawke expectantly; it was usual for people to jump in with explanations. Hawke remained silent.

Mrs Taylor frowned. ‘Your nephew was found alone and without supervision at a nightclub by the police. Perhaps you could start by explaining how the situation arose.’

‘As you know Le’s aunt died trying to find her sister, Le’s mother. Le was trying to continue the search.’ Hawke gestured. ‘He sneaked away from his friend’s house where he was due to spend the evening in order to do it.’

‘Why was Le at his friend’s house and not with you?’ Mrs Taylor said making another note.

‘He asked for permission to spend the day and night at his friend’s, primarily so he and Billy, his friend, could play a new computer game that Billy has just been bought.’ Hawke shrugged. ‘I gave permission and dropped him off on Saturday morning.’

‘Did you have any indication that Le was planning to do this?’

‘Of course not.’ Hawke replied.

Mrs Taylor set her pen down. ‘How would you describe the state of your relationship with Le before the incident?’

Hawke met her inquiring eyes. ‘I missed Le’s school play on Friday because of work commitments. He was annoyed at me.’

Mrs Taylor blinked at the honesty. ‘I see. You’re still staying with Ms O’Shaunessy I believe?’

‘Yes.’

‘How is the search for your own house progressing?’

‘I…er…well I’ve struggled to find something suitable.’ Hawke finally said.

Her brown eyes narrowed on him. ‘Have you actually begun to look?’

‘Yes.’ Hawke said with a large amount of relief. ‘We spent most of the weekend looking at houses.’

‘Hmmm.’ Mrs Taylor made another note. ‘And what about finding adequate child care facilities?’

‘If I’m not around either Caitlin or my friend Dominic Santini looks after Le.’

‘And how often are you not around?’ Mrs Taylor looked up and pinned him with a frank stare.

Hawke was unsure what to say and retreated into silence.

‘Shall I tell you, Mr Hawke?’ Mrs Taylor turned a page in her notebook. ‘I have called you every day for five days and found you that you have been unavailable on your work and home contact numbers.’

‘My work keeps me busy.’ Hawke said defensively.

‘That would be your job at Santini Air.’ Mrs Taylor made another note.

‘Yes.’

‘And you believe you don’t need child care?’ Mrs Taylor continued.

Hawke sighed. ‘As I’ve said Caitlin or Dominic take care of Le in my absence.’

‘I see.’ Mrs Taylor scribbled something in her notebook. ‘I’ve generally spoken with Ms O’Shaunessy when I’ve called. Is it fair to say that she’s been the primary care-giver?’

‘Yes.’ Hawke said. He frowned and corrected himself. ‘That is when I haven’t been around Caitlin has acted as primary care-giver.’ He couldn’t remember a time when he’d felt more backed into a corner. He would have preferred to be in the cockpit of a chopper dealing with an in-flight emergency.

‘And you maintain that your relationship with her is platonic?’ Mrs Taylor looked up at him again, her expression bland.

Hawke flushed with anger and his eyes flashed dangerously. ‘I find that question insulting.’

Mrs Taylor sighed. ‘Let me be frank with you Mr Hawke. I admire your intent in offering to take in Le when his aunt died. It was a generous act of kindness.’

‘But?’ bit out Hawke.

‘But I don’t think you truly considered what you were getting into.’ Mrs Taylor completed. ‘In the last four weeks, you’ve made only minimal changes to your life. Whilst you continue to have temporary lodgings with a single female,’ she held up a hand to forestall any comment, ‘and work long hours, it cannot be said that you provide a stable environment in which to raise Le.’ She continued ignoring the anger in the blue eyes fixed upon her. ‘Further, and unsurprisingly, your relationship with Le is deteriorating.’ She tapped her notebook with her pen. ‘It is therefore unlikely that any court will award you permanent custody even without this latest incident at the nightclub especially as single fathers are not favoured even when there is a direct paternal link and you have, at best, a tenuous familial link to Le. Your own lawyer must have made that clear to you.’

Hawke frowned; his lawyer had laid it out and he’d ignored him. He cleared his throat. ‘Are you saying you’re recommending to the court that my custody of Le is revoked?’

Mrs Taylor sighed and pushed her glasses up her nose. ‘Not at the present time but I warn you Mr Hawke, I’m going to need to see major changes over the next few weeks to be convinced that such a course of action is not required.’

Hawke swallowed the angry words that sprang to his lips.

She flipped through her diary. ‘I’ll see you again in two weeks to check on progress. I’d like you to bring Le.’ She removed her glasses and pinned him with another piercing look. ‘I expect at that point you will have signed a lease on a property for you and Le to live in and for you to have demonstrated that you are more available to Le.’

Hawke nodded. ‘I’ll be here.’

‘Good.’ Mrs Taylor replaced her glasses and made the appointment in her diary as Hawke stood. ‘You know it’s a shame you and Ms O’Shaunessy are not involved because I find her to be a very capable young woman and I’m sure the courts would look more favourably on your petition for custody if there was a prospect of an imminent union.’

‘Union?’ Hawke repeated blankly.

‘Marriage, Mr Hawke.’ Mrs Taylor sighed and looked up at him. ‘If you could offer Le a more traditional environment it would certainly improve your chances of gaining permanent custody.’

Hawke retreated into silence again. Truthfully he had no idea what to say.

‘I’ll see you in two weeks.’ Mrs Taylor concluded closing her notebook.

Hawke nodded and decided retreat was the better strategy. His palms were sweating by the time he got of the building and he stopped to take a deep breath of air. He had two weeks to turn things around and he was running out of options, he realised. He glanced at his watch; he was due back at the airfield. Hawke headed for his bike; there was somewhere else he had to go.

—

‘I always get worried when you ask me for a favour.’ Michael Coldsmith-Briggs III sat down in his leather chair and leaned back to eye Hawke speculatively over the rim of his bourbon glass.

Hawke slouched in the chair and rubbed his chin. He gestured at the spy. ‘I’m sure you’ll think of someway I can repay you, Michael.’

Michael smiled and his good eye lit up with an inner amusement. ‘Undoubtedly.’ He gestured at the pilot with the bourbon. ‘So what is it?’

Hawke sighed and shoved a hand through his hair. ‘Le ran away on Saturday evening.’

‘He ran away?’ Michael’s voice rose.

‘The police found him at a nightclub. He’s fine.’ Hawke said seeing the worry spring into the other man’s eye. ‘But I got called into see the social worker in charge of Half-pint’s case.’ He tapped his fingers restlessly against the chair arm. ‘She made it clear that my chances of getting custody are slim.’

‘And you need me…?’

‘To do what you do, Michael.’ Hawke said. ‘Pull strings. Make it happen. Fix it.’

Michael stroked his moustache thoughtfully. ‘What exactly did the social worker say to you?’

Hawke frowned. ‘She said that with my work commitments, tenuous link to Le and single status I could pretty much forget about custody unless I make some major changes.’

Michael swirled the bourbon. ‘I can’t say I haven’t been expecting this conversation.’

Hawke lurched to his feet and went to stand in front of the windows rocking backwards and forwards on his heels. ‘It seems everyone’s been expecting it but me.’

‘Hawke,’ Michael set the glass down on the table, ‘you never considered the implications of what you were doing when you asked Le to move in with you. It’s no surprise that you’re facing some tough decisions on your priorities now.’

Hawke sighed. ‘Dom thinks I should give up Airwolf.’

‘What do you think?’ Michael asked.

‘I’m here aren’t I?’ Hawke bit out.

‘So I take it I fix the custody issue or you’re going to give up Airwolf?’

Hawke didn’t respond and the silence stretched between them.

Michael sighed. ‘Are those really your only options?’

Hawke shrugged. ‘The social worker suggested I marry Caitlin.’

‘She what?’ Michael was stunned; he wondered if he’d missed some major shift in the relationship between the two pilots.

Hawke spun around to face Michael. ‘She doesn’t believe that Cait and I are just friends.’

Michael decided to ignore the potential minefield they were heading into; he changed the subject. ‘I think I may have another solution.’

‘You do?’

Michael reached for the phone. ‘Kelly, please can you bring in the Le Van Hawke file.’

‘What’s going on, Michael?’ Hawke asked as he slowly made his way back to the chair, slumping into it.

Michael waved his assistant in and took the buff coloured folder from her before dismissing her again. He flipped through it and glanced at Hawke gauging how much longer he was going to get before the pilot erupted.

‘Michael…’

Michael closed the folder and passed it to Hawke. He reached for his cane and got to his feet. He walked around to the computer that took up half his office wall and started to tap in instructions whilst Hawke read the file.

Hawke’s gaze jerked to the spy. ‘You’ve been searching for Le’s mother?’

Michael shrugged. ‘She’s a lead on your brother and her sister did die looking for her…it seemed to have some potential.’

Hawke returned his attention to the folder, reading the information with more focus than before. He stopped at a photo and put the rest of the folder down to examine it closely. He would swear that the image matched an old grainy photo of Ana, Le’s mother that he had been shown by Le’s deceased aunt.

‘She’s alive.’ He murmured. His eyes flew accusingly to Michael’s ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

‘I didn’t want to say something until we had a solid lead.’ Michael sighed. ‘The one and only sighting of her was in a club downtown called the Dancing Lounge a couple of weeks ago.’ He brought the information up on the large screen on the wall. ‘It’s owned by Jarvis Darrow. He’s under federal investigation for trafficking women. He’s small time but they still haven’t been able to get anything to stick.’ He perched on the side of the cabinet. ‘We think Ana might have gotten caught up with Darrow’s trafficking scams. There’s been no trace of her since the sighting at the nightclub. Nothing solid.’

‘You’re still looking for her though right?’ Hawke asked.

Michael nodded. ‘We’re still following up leads but if you guys wanted to take over…’

Hawke looked at the information on the screen and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. ‘You can provide all the information and back-up we need?’

‘Yes.’ Michael hesitated. ‘Of course, if you do find her…’

‘Custody of Le would go to her.’ Hawke concluded.

Michael nodded. ‘It’s a thought.’

‘That’s a hell of a solution, Michael.’

‘And one that is not guaranteed.’ Michael sighed and wandered back round to his desk. ‘I’ll still look into fixing the custody, Hawke, although I don’t know how.’ He sat down heavily. ‘Maybe I can get his case moved to a more sympathetic case worker or maybe I can see if I can get the adoption arranged without the involvement of social services. I don’t know whether it’s going to be possible to do either.’ He cautioned.

‘I understand.’

‘Hmmm.’ Michael’s good eye shone mischievously. ‘You could always consider asking Cait to marry you.’

‘Funny, Michael.’ Hawke said and pushed himself out of the chair. He paused at the double doors with his hand on the handle. ‘Michael?’ He waited until he had the other man’s attention. ‘Thank you.’

Michael nodded in acknowledgement. ‘I’ll be in touch.’

Hawke gave a sharp nod of agreement and walked out.

—

‘I don’t understand.’ Caitlin said, picking up the photo. ‘Are you saying Minh was right and Le’s Mom is alive?’

‘Sure looks that way.’ Hawke replied and folded his arms. They were all crammed into the Santini Air office reviewing the folder of information Hawke had been given on the FIRM’s investigation into Ana.

‘And Michael’s been looking for her?’ Dom asked.

‘Thought she might be a lead on Saint John.’ Hawke explained seeing the disbelief in Dom’s eyes. Even after everything the Airwolf team had been through, Dom still had trouble believing Michael would act on purely altruistic motives; truth was, Hawke thought, Dom was right most of the time.

‘According to this Ana was last seen two weeks ago at a nightclub called the Dancing Lounge.’ Caitlin read.

‘I’ve heard of it.’ Dom remarked. ‘It’s a dive.’ He caught Caitlin’s eye. ‘Not your kinda place.’

Hawke’s eyes twinkled. ‘But definitely yours.’

‘Guys.’ Caitlin interrupted before the exchange of barbs could get going in earnest. ‘So she’s still at the Dancing Lounge?’

‘According to Michael, she disappeared.’ Hawke refilled his coffee and took a sip. ‘Darrow has been under suspicion for trafficking women particularly illegal immigrants.’

‘You think he sold her?’ Caitlin asked incredulous.

‘Or he’s holding her somewhere ready to sell her. The FBI believes the women have been sold to be wives in the past at mass auctions. They get a green card and in return they become some rich guy’s willing slave.’

‘That’s barbaric.’ Caitlin snapped.

Hawke held up his hand in supplication. ‘I agree with you.’

‘Me too.’ Dom’s brow was low over his brows, his eyes flashing ominously. He was an old-fashioned man; women were to be cherished, looked after. The very notion of selling them like cattle boiled his blood.

Caitlin took a breath, the colour fading from her cheeks. ‘So Michael’s handed the investigation over to us?’

‘He thought we would want to do it.’ Hawke murmured, knowingly omitting why Michael had handed the folder to him.

‘And are we doing it?’ Dom questioned. He waved at the folder. ‘This guy sounds like trouble, String.’

‘We can’t not do it, Dom.’ Hawke replied. ‘This could be Le’s mother; Saint John’s wife.’

‘I was afraid you were going to say that.’ Dom muttered.

Hawke hid a smile by sipping his coffee.

‘Are you going to tell Le?’ Caitlin asked putting the folder down on the desk.

‘I can’t keep something like this from him.’ Hawke pointed out.

Caitlin’s lips twitched. ‘You know he’s going to want to be involved.’

‘I know.’ Hawke raised his mug. ‘At least I’ll be spending time with him, huh?’

Caitlin smiled. ‘I forgot to ask; how did it go with Mrs Taylor this morning?’

‘Not so good.’ Hawke admitted.

‘Oh Hawke.’ Caitlin murmured softly.

‘She’s given me two weeks to improve or she’ll look into revoking the temporary custody arrangement.’

‘Can she do that?’ Dom asked.

‘I guess she can.’ Hawke said. He shrugged. ‘If we find Le’s mother, I guess it won’t be a problem.’

‘You’d hand custody back to his Mom?’ Caitlin asked.

‘It would be the right thing to do.’ Hawke said quietly ignoring Dom’s sharp look.

‘I guess we have to find her first.’ Caitlin murmured.

Dom sighed. ‘Do you have a plan?’

‘Maybe.’ Hawke said.

‘That’s what I was afraid of.’ Dom muttered.

Hawke and Caitlin exchanged an amused look.

‘When do we start?’ She asked.

‘Tomorrow. I’ll talk to Le tonight about it.’ Hawke said. ‘Reconnaissance only. I’ll go in for a drink, see what I can pick up. We’ll take it from there.’

‘Sounds like a plan.’ Dom agreed.

‘I could go in too.’ Caitlin said.

Dom and Hawke stared at her. She frowned and gestured at the folder as they swapped identical incredulous looks. ‘I could go in as a dancer or a waitress.’

‘Cait…’ Hawke began.

‘No, don’t tell me.’ Caitlin placed her hands on her hips. ‘I’m going to be babysitting Le.’

‘It’s not that.’ Hawke denied. ‘It’s just…’ he gestured, ‘it’s not really the type of place…that you would…’ he looked at Dom who shrugged helplessly; he sighed, ‘…fit in.’

‘I have gone undercover before.’ Caitlin argued.

‘Not this time, Cait.’ Hawke said firmly. ‘Besides I need you to pick up the FIRM’s background investigation into Darrow. You’re much better at that stuff than Dom or I.’

Caitlin held his gaze for a heartbeat. ‘Sure.’ Her eyes flickered away to the clock. ‘I’d better get the chopper ready. I’ve got a lesson scheduled.’ She made her way out of the office closing the door behind her.

Hawke sighed.

‘She’ll get over it, String.’ Dom assured him. ‘You’re right to keep her out of that place. It’s just too dangerous.’

Hawke patted his arm and walked out to the hangar.

—

The neon sign above the Dancing Lounge promised girls, drink and music; it didn’t promote the gloomy fog of smoke, the tables scarred with drink and cigarette burns. It didn’t promise the dim lighting, the watered down alcohol and broken sound system that pumped the music out with the accompaniment of static crackle. All of which didn’t seem to bother the customers gathered in the small, cramped club, eyes following the writhing girl on the stage.

Caitlin wondered what she’d been thinking as she tried to resist the urge to tug at the cut-away shorts that showed the full length of her leg as she made her way from the bar with another full tray of drinks. She hadn’t been thinking, she thought. She’d been too angry that the guys were underestimating her abilities – again. After she completed her flight lesson, she’d marched out of the airfield and straight down to the Dancing Lounge to get herself a job.

It had been easy to sass her way through the door; adrenaline had carried her through a nervous interview with Darrow and on the basis of her sheer gall, he’d given her a tryout as a waitress. She’d had some crazy idea about being able to sneak into the back office and find a clue to Ana’s disappearance but she hadn’t even had time for a break. Her other potential sources of information, the other waitresses, weren’t going well either; they were busy or unfriendly and there was little chance of picking something up by gossip.

She unloaded her tray and flashed a false smile at the guy patting her bum as she sidestepped away. She made her way back to the bar. Brick, the barman, greeted her with a ready smile. He was a bald black man with muscles that bulged from the frayed grey t-shirt he wore. Caitlin waited whilst he loaded up another tray of drinks.

‘This one’s for the boss’ table.’ Brick swiped the grimy bar counter and nodded at the private booth located just off the stage. Darrow was sat there with two men who Caitlin had tagged as criminal associates. Darrow wasn’t the dodgy club owner cliché that she had expected. The blond attractive forty-year old was dressed nicely in an understated expensive suit. He was quick to halt any trouble in the club, including any customer getting too close to the dancers. He seemed to treat the girls well although with a business-like approach that categorised them as merchandise rather than as people.

Caitlin took hold of the tray and sauntered over to the booth. She slowed seeing the three men in deep conversation.

‘I have buyers lined up, Jarvis. We’re ready to go.’ The greying man on Darrow’s right-hand side commented.

‘We need to wait.’ Darrow said firmly.

The third man piped up. ‘The warehouse is getting some heat, Jarvis. We need to move the…’

Darrow held up a hand, noticing Caitlin standing awkwardly to the side of the booth. He motioned her forward and she hastily stepped up and unloaded the drinks with a sassy smile to cover her eavesdropping. She stepped back and made her way back to the bar.

Another back-breaking two hours of work later, Caitlin finished her shift and made her way back to the small staff room. She rubbed the ache in her back and opened the battered locker she’d been assigned, reaching in for her handbag.

‘You did a good job tonight.’

Caitlin spun around and pressed a hand to her racing heart. Darrow moved out of the shadows of the doorway, closing the door behind him. Caitlin tensed but held her ground. ‘You scared me.’ She managed to gasp out with another smile to cover her nerves.

‘Did I?’ Darrow placed a hand on the locker door beside her head, effectively trapping her between his arm and the door of her own locker. She jerked at the touch of his other hand on her hip. It travelled up her side and rested on her rib cage just under her breast. Caitlin glanced at the hand before meeting Darrow’s eyes deliberately.

‘This part of my job responsibilities?’ She drawled aiming for insolence.

Darrow smiled. ‘Could be.’ His hand slid around to her back and pressed her against him. ‘If you play your cards right.’ He searched her expression and leaned in to whisper in her ear. ‘How much did you hear?’

‘Hear?’ asked Caitlin trying to brazen it out.

‘At the table.’ Darrow’s fingers played up her spine until his hand was cupping the back of her neck. ‘And don’t pretend you weren’t listening.’

‘Just…just some stuff about a warehouse getting some attention from the cops.’ Caitlin didn’t have to pretend the fear in her voice.

‘Hmmm.’ Darrow eased back and searched her eyes. ‘You made a good choice in not denying it. Maybe you’ll get those additional responsibilities.’ He stepped back, releasing her and reached into his jacket pocket. He pulled out a wad of banknotes which he handed to her. ‘Your pay. See Brick on your way out for your next shift.’ Darrow left the room and Caitlin slumped against the locker door. Her heart was thumping in her chest and she could feel the sweat running down her back. It was definitely time to leave.

—

Hawke glanced up from his book at the clock; it was five minutes after the last time he checked and still just after one in the morning. The living room was cast in a cosy glow with only one small lamp by Hawke’s side lighting the room. He was slouched on the sofa; legs stretched in front of him, a book in one hand. He could have passed as a picture of relaxed contentment if not for the fingers of his free hand which drummed the side of the sofa in an angry rhythm. His head suddenly cocked to one side; the hum of a car engine; Caitlin was finally home. He put the book down and stood up. His eyes met hers accusingly when she walked in the door.

Caitlin froze at the sight of Hawke; she’d worked with him, been his friend long enough to see the anger bubbling under the impassive surface. She slowly closed the door and slipped her jacket off her shoulders to hang it up; grateful she’d had the foresight to change out of the revealing waitress outfit and into her usual garb of jeans and shirt.

‘I didn’t think you’d still be up.’ She said keeping her voice low and turning back to him. ‘Le asleep?’

‘He’s with Dom.’ Hawke said in a polite tone that had her tensing. ‘Where’ve you been?’

Caitlin folded her arms over her chest. She considered his still expression. ‘I get the feeling you already know.’

‘Dammit, Cait.’ Hawke snapped. ‘I told you to keep out of it.’

‘And I told you that I could be useful,’ she shot back, ‘only you ignored me, like always.’

‘This isn’t a game, Caitlin.’ Hawke began angrily taking a couple of steps toward her.

‘You think I don’t know that?’ Caitlin said moving into the room to stand directly in front of him. They were toe to toe. ‘Darrow’s a creep, I get it. It’s a dangerous, risky op. Guess what? I get that too.’

‘You went there alone and without back-up. You could have been killed.’ Hawke’s voice was low but his eyes flashed at her. ‘What the hell were you thinking?’

They stared furiously at each other and the room filled with an uneasy tension, part anger and part something else that had Caitlin suddenly lowering her gaze.

She sighed, the anger draining out of her. ‘I wasn’t. Thinking, that is.’ She admitted and stepped around him to slump tiredly onto the sofa. She closed her eyes and massaged her temples in a futile effort to shift a headache.

Hawke looked down at her pale, strained face and felt his own fury melt away; leaving only the worry that had prompted it. He sat down beside her.

‘You just made me so mad relegating me to the background checks.’ Caitlin muttered before she opened her eyes and turned her head to look at him. ‘You always seem to forget that I used to be a pretty decent cop before I met you.’

Hawke sighed; he wasn’t quite sure how to respond. He leaned back and met her reproachful gaze. ‘I tend to forget that you had a life at all before you joined the team.’ He admitted ruefully.

His comment raised a small smile from her. She shifted to face him fully. ‘I’m sorry I worried you.’

Hawke nodded. ‘You look wiped out.’

She caught her breath at the concern shining from his eyes. ‘I am.’ She smiled. ‘I’d forgotten what hard work being a waitress is.’

‘You eaten?’

‘Not really.’

‘Come on.’ Hawke stood up and offered her a hand. ‘I’ll make you some soup.’

She allowed him to pull her to her feet. ‘I think I’ll take you up on that offer.’

It didn’t take Hawke long to put together the soup and set the table. He waited until she’d ploughed through half of the food before he asked her whether she’d learned anything at the Dancing Lounge.

She stirred the soup thoughtfully. ‘Honestly, not much.’ Caitlin fiddled with the spoon and set it aside. ‘I did overhear a conversation that Darrow had with two men who visited with him. I think they were talking about the auction but I didn’t have much of a chance to listen.’ She slumped back in her chair and tried to remember exactly what had been said. ‘One of them said the buyers were ready. Darrow wanted to wait.’ Her eyes widened and she sat forward. ‘The second guy, he said the warehouse was getting some heat.’

‘Warehouse?’ Hawke mused and went to get the folder Michael had given him. He flipped through the paperwork and handed her a sheet which listed all the property that Darrow owned. He pointed out a section on the paper. ‘Darrow owns three warehouses down by the old docks.’

‘Two are empty.’ Caitlin pointed out. ‘One is leased to a textile company…there’s a note here from Meryl…she followed up. There should be a sheet on a Farrick Textiles?’

Hawke rifled through the disordered folder and plucked out a piece of paper. He frowned. ‘Farrick Textiles…owned by a guy called Matt Sterling. Sterling is on the FBI watch-list for organised crime.’

‘Darrow’s partner?’ Caitlin mused.

‘Maybe.’ Hawke rubbed his chin thoughtfully. ‘According to this Sterling is the big league. Darrow’s a pretty small fish in comparison. It seems unlikely that they would be working together.’

‘Maybe…’ Caitlin tapped the folder, ‘maybe Darrow’s slave trade is providing a cover for Sterling doing something else.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Misdirection.’ Caitlin explained. ‘It’s the oldest trick in the magician’s handbook. Darrow provides the distraction and Sterling gets to pull something else off under everyone’s noses.’ She concluded. ‘He must be paying Darrow really well to get him to take that kind of risk.’

‘Or maybe Darrow doesn’t even realise it.’ Hawke said. ‘Michael’s going to want in on this.’ His eyes flickered to the shadows under Caitlin’s eyes. ‘But it can wait till morning. You head up, get some sleep. I’ll clear up.’

Caitlin nodded and Hawke watched her walk up the stairs. He sighed at the sound of her bedroom door closing. It had been a tense evening. He’d realised what she’d done almost immediately after he’d arrived home with Le and Dom and found the house was empty. Dom had taken one look at his face and offered to take Half-pint for the night. Hawke had left the house twice to go to the Dancing Lounge and get her. He’d even gotten as far as the end of the street the second time before he’d stopped realising that if he stormed into the bar he would blow whatever cover she might have constructed. He had mentally given her until two o’clock…and worried the whole time about whether the decision would cost Caitlin her life.

Hawke pushed a hand through his hair and stood up, gathered the dishes and headed to the kitchen. He’d been so relieved to hear her car, to see her walk through the door; if anything had happened to her…his hands shook. He put the bowl he was washing on the drainer and braced himself against the sink, took a deep breath. She thought he kept her out of it because he underestimated her abilities; he wondered what she would say if he told her it was because he was bone scared he would lose her one day like he’d lost so many people in his life already. He shook himself. He was tired. Too tired if he was thinking about…he dried his hands and headed up the stairs.

—

‘That’s him.’ Caitlin pointed at the screen in Michael’s office.’He was definitely one of the guys talking with Darrow last night.’

‘Tommy Linton.’ Michael nodded at Kelly who tapped an instruction into the computer. Linton’s file duly appeared on the computer screen.

Dom whistled. ‘He has a record as long as my arm.’

‘Longer,’ noted Hawke.

‘Drugs, arms, assault, battery…’ Caitlin reeled off the list and shuddered. She was grateful she hadn’t known about Linton’s crimes when she’d been eavesdropping on him.

The computer screen flickered and the next page of the file was displayed.

Caitlin peered closely at the known associates and pointed at the third picture. ‘Him. He was the other one.’

‘Charles Gorel.’ Kelly noted.

‘Linton’s usual sidekick and all-round henchman.’ Michael expanded. ‘They’re suspected associates of Sterling but there has never been proof of a direct connection.’

‘Who is this Sterling guy?’ Dom asked.

Kelly obligingly brought up his details. ‘Matthew Garrett Sterling. Entrepreneur and noted businessman.’

‘His personal fortune is estimated at around $75 million dollars.’ Michael pointed at the screen. ‘That’s the legal value.’

‘Didn’t he win an award a few years back?’ Caitlin asked dredging the trivia from the depths of her memory. ‘Philanthropist of the year?’

‘He did. He has some powerful political allies who either don’t know about his illegal operations or choose to turn a blind eye.’ Michael sighed. ‘His background has been sanitised by his PR people. Poor kid from Hell’s Kitchen pulls himself out of the mire and builds a fortune.’

‘He’s living the American dream.’ Kelly commented.

‘Only the money that got him started is rumoured to have come from the New York Mafia.’ Michael explained. ‘Sterling is very slick. Nothing has ever stuck or been traced back to him directly. There’re a number of law enforcement agencies that would kill to get their hands on him.’

‘You included?’ Hawke asked.

Michael shrugged. ‘I wouldn’t be averse to having him behind bars.’ He frowned. ‘The DEA has been trying to prove Sterling has used his textile industry as a front for bringing in drugs from the Golden triangle for years.’ He turned to Kelly. ‘Bring up the DEA information on Sterling.’

Kelly raised one elegantly arched eyebrow but quickly accessed the DEA database to bring up the relevant file.

Michael gestured at the information. ‘The DEA tracked a major sale of pure heroin in Hong Kong two months ago. They believe Sterling was the buyer but the heroin disappeared without a trace.’

‘Two months ago?’ Caitlin murmured. ‘It was two months ago that Farrick Textiles started to lease the warehouse from Darrow.’

‘Ah…it could be coincidence.’ Dom said.

‘I don’t think so.’ Caitlin argued. ‘I mean I don’t think the drugs are there, that’s too obvious but I do think it explains why Sterling might have turned to a small fry like Darrow.’

‘So do I.’ Hawke agreed. ‘Sterling needed somewhere to misdirect the law enforcement. I bet that place is surrounded by any number of agencies falling over themselves.’

‘No bet.’ Michael murmured. ‘But all we have at the moment is conjecture and theory.’

‘We?’ Hawke’s eyes twinkled at the spy.

‘But how does Le’s Mom figure into all this?’ Dom asked ignoring Hawke’s jibe at Michael.

‘I don’t know but we’ve got to try and find out.’ Hawke said.

Michael ignored them and turned back to Caitlin. ‘How good is your cover? Was Darrow suspicious?’

‘Now wait a minute,’ Dom began, ‘she’s not going back in there. Especially now we know about,’ he waved at the screen, ‘all this.’

Caitlin’s eyes flashed and she rose from her chair.

‘She has to go back.’ Michael insisted. ‘Darrow might get suspicious if she doesn’t.’

‘It’s too dangerous.’ Dom argued.

‘She,’ stressed Caitlin, ‘can decide for herself.’

Dom looked beseechingly at Hawke. ‘You agree with me, don’t you, String?’

Hawke glanced at Caitlin before looking back at Dom, struggling between his own knee-jerk reaction to agree with the older man and Caitlin’s comments that he continually underestimated her the night before. He retreated to what was best tactically. ‘Michael’s right, Dom.’

Michael’s eyebrows shot up as Dom glowered at his young friend.

‘She has to go back or Darrow will get tipped off.’ Hawke concluded. ‘But you’re not going back alone.’ He continued directing his comment at Caitlin. ‘I’ll go in as a paying customer to provide you with back up.’

Dom threw up his hands and took a seat.

‘I’ll organise a ground unit too.’ Michael added. ‘If Darrow is involved with Sterling and there’s a chance we can get him…the Committee will want in.’

‘Our primary objective is still to find out about Ana.’ Hawke continued, his gaze moving to Michael.

‘I wouldn’t have expected anything else.’ Michael said dryly. ‘Shall we?’ He gestured at the conference table and they all took their places to plan the operation in detail.

It seemed no time at all before Hawke found himself sat on the bar stool at the Dancing Lounge, nursing a bad beer and a headache. He couldn’t believe how packed the club was with every kind of lowlife LA had to offer. He knocked back a slug of the beer.

‘Can I get you another?’ Caitlin’s Texan drawl inquired beside him.

Hawke glanced at her and his eyes widened as he took in the low cropped top and the cutaway shorts that showed off the long line of her legs. It took him a moment to find his voice. ‘Sure. I’ll take another.’

Caitlin nodded and reached over to take his glass. He watched her walk to the other end of the bar and he shifted in his seat, suddenly uncomfortable.

‘She’s something, isn’t she?’

Hawke turned to find a sweaty, balding man next to him, leaning on the bar with a beer clutched in a meaty paw. He turned to look at the girl up on the stage and didn’t reply.

‘I’m Bill.’ The guy offered Hawke a cigarette.

Hawke declined with a shake of his head; he refused to take up smoking as part of his cover. There was a pause in conversation as Caitlin arrived back with his drink and Hawke took it from her with a short nod.

Bill lit up and watched Caitlin move away to serve a table. ‘You seem to have more of a thing for the waitress than for the dancers.’

Hawke took a sip of his drink and gestured with the bottle. ‘Maybe I have a thing for redheads.’

Bill blew smoke out between his teeth. ‘I don’t blame you. I wouldn’t mind riding that little filly.’

The hair on Hawke’s neck bristled. He forced a smile to his lips and ignored the impulse to punch the other man.

Bill drew in another drag of his cigarette. ‘You know if you want to get to know her better, I could arrange that.’

Hawke took a gulp of his beer. Clever, he thought. Darrow must have this loser stoking up trade for the prostitution side of his business; complete deniability if the guy approached a cop.

‘Thanks but no thanks.’ Hawke bit out.

‘You sure?’ Bill stubbed the cigarette out in an already over-flowing ash-tray. ‘This one’s a brand new dolly. You’d be the first customer.’

Hawke smirked, staying in character. ‘I’ve never needed to pay for a girl.’

Bill’s beady eyes gleamed. ‘I wouldn’t be trying to touch the merchandise here without paying.’

‘Are you threatening me?’ Hawke didn’t even try to hide his amusement, his eyes wandering over the other man’s paunchy belly.

‘Call it a friendly warning.’ Bill pushed away from the bar and sauntered to a table close to the stage. Hawke smothered the urge to go after him and let his eyes wander back to the stage.

Caitlin had been right, he thought. There was little opportunity for her to leave her position and make her way to the office but there was even less opportunity for him to do so. The door to the back of the club was watched over by a guard positioned on a table just off to the side and if he somehow managed to get past him, the door was in clear sight of Darrow’s booth. The owner was alone and keeping a careful watch on everything going on. They would need the distraction Caitlin had proposed, Hawke mused.

He tensed as Darrow suddenly stood up and left his booth. The club owner paused at the bar to talk to the barman and Hawke strained to hear him but couldn’t make out the words over the blaring dance music. He kept his gaze firmly on the stage as Darrow passed by him and went through the door to the back of the club. Hawke sighed. It didn’t look as though there was going to be an opportunity to get to the office at all. His eyes drifted back to Caitlin as she returned to the bar and he jerked his gaze back to the stage, annoyed at his lack of concentration. He frowned when Caitlin walked past him, heading for the door; Darrow must have sent for her. His worry warred with the instinct that they’d been handed a perfect opportunity. He hoped Caitlin would be able to handle Darrow. He picked up his glass and looked at a group of drunken men sat next to the stage jeering at the dancers. Maybe there was a way he could help her.

In the office, Caitlin took the glass of champagne Darrow handed her and sipped it cautiously; she wouldn’t put it past him to have spiked it. He’d set the office up for a seduction; low lighting, soft music and the two of them squished together on a battered leather sofa. The cliché of it almost had her giggling.

‘You seem to be attracting some admirers out there.’

‘I am?’ She asked in response to his remark.

‘You are.’ Darrow sat down beside her on the old leather sofa. ‘In addition to myself, of course.’ He lit a cigarette. ‘Guy at the bar hasn’t taken his eyes off you.’

Caitlin bit her lip and ignored the way her heart was pounding. ‘Really?’

‘Really.’ Darrow blew out a stream of blue smoke. ‘You know him?’

Her fingers tightened on the glass and she shook her head. ‘Never seen him before.’

Darrow flicked his ash into an oversize crystal ashtray. ‘It’s an interesting co-incidence, don’t you think? You start working one day; I get a new customer who only has eyes for you the next.’

‘I guess.’ She murmured.

Darrow smiled and stubbed the cigarette out. ‘It’s probably nothing.’ He moved closer to her. ‘I believe we need to talk about your additional responsibilities.’

Caitlin held her position. ‘Is that what you wanted to do? Talk?’

Darrow’s hand slid up her thigh. ‘Well, now that you mention it…’ He leaned across her, his lips heading for hers; Caitlin forced herself not to squirm away but pretended to respond. His hand grabbed her breast roughly and she used the opportunity to jerk physically as though in surprise and upend the glass of champagne she still held into his lap.

‘Jesus Christ!’ Darrow yelped getting to his feet and looking at the sodden crotch on his trousers.

‘Oh my God! I’m so sorry! I’m just so incredibly clumsy…’ Caitlin grabbed hold a tissue and started to dab ineffectually at the dampness. His hand clamped around her wrist.

‘I’ll take care of it. Stay here.’ Darrow ordered and staggered out of the room. As soon as the door closed, Caitlin was on her feet. She headed directly for the computer sitting on Darrow’s desk; he’d left it switched on and unprotected. She hunted around for a floppy disk and gave the instructions to copy the files. With the computer occupied with its task, she flipped through the open folders and papers on Darrow’s desk. Most of the papers were legitimate invoices, orders and payslips for the club. She bit her lip and glanced at the closed door. She wouldn’t have much more time. A sheet of paper caught her attention. It was filled with a series of words and numbers, like a code. She ripped off a sheet of notepaper and copied the information before she retrieved the floppy disk and hid both in the back pocket of her shorts. She’d just made it back to the sofa when Darrow threw open the door. The sound of breaking glass and raised voices in the bar drowned out the romantic music in the office.

‘Dammit!’ He headed straight for the phone and started dialling a number. He spun round to look at her as though suddenly remembering she was there. He covered the mouthpiece. ‘You’d better get out there and help clear up. Some idiot started a brawl. The place is a mess.’

‘Sure.’ Caitlin slid off the sofa and made her way to the bar. Darrow hadn’t been kidding; there was glass and spilt booze everywhere. The place was in chaos; the music had been switched off and the room was filled with chattering, angry voices as the customers yelled for their money back at an increasingly furious looking Brick. Caitlin started to pick her way through the throng of people and saw Hawke heading straight for her. She carried on walking until they inevitably bumped into each other. She felt Hawke’s hands go around her to steady her. She shrugged his hands off her, frowning at the new scrapes across his knuckles and sidestepped around him. A glance back and he nodded; the acknowledgement that he’d retrieved the information from her. He headed out with the other customers.

Darrow slammed the phone down. He heard a noise behind him and turned to look at his associate. ‘Report.’

Bill shrugged. ‘I’ve checked. Nobody local has a sting operation going down.’

‘Feds?’ Darrow asked.

‘Could be.’ Bill shrugged again. ‘They don’t always see the need to inform us local boys but usually we get whispers and there’s nothing beyond the stuff at the warehouse.’

‘The guy at the bar?’

‘Cagey. Didn’t give much away. Didn’t get a name so I can’t run a check.’ Bill rubbed a handkerchief over his sweating face. ‘He certainly looks the part of a deadbeat.’ He gave a snort. ‘He didn’t jump on my approach to him which if it is a sting was damned clever.’

Darrow smiled at his bought cop. ‘What about the girl?’

‘Her background checks out. Just another small town girl down on her luck.’ Bill sighed. ‘Maybe you’re jumping at shadows, Darrow.’ He suggested. ‘You know if walks like a duck, quacks like a duck maybe it’s a duck.’

Darrow shook his head. ‘My gut’s telling me something’s off.’

‘You’re being paranoid,’ Bill commented, ‘because of this deal with Sterling.’

‘We can’t afford to screw this up.’ Darrow shot back. ‘This could be the start of bigger and better things for the both of us.’

Bill held up a hand. ‘You don’t have to convince me.’

Darrow frowned and looked at his desk. Something was wrong. His eyes narrowed. He took two strides to his computer and brought up the screen. It was in the same place that he had left it but something…his eyes scanned his desk again. The notebook. He picked it up and a finger drifted across the frayed top edge where a sheet of paper had been ripped off. He swore.

‘What’s the matter?’ Bill asked.

Darrow put the notebook down and marched out to the main room.

Caitlin was sweeping the debris into a tidy pile when she saw Darrow making his way to her like a cruise missile fixed on a target. She barely had time to register the fury in his face before she felt the force of it as he backhanded her across the cheek so hard she staggered and fell. She barely registered him telling the other girls to get out.

His hands were around her arms like bands of steel as he dragged her back to her feet. ‘Who the hell are you?’

‘What…do you mean?’ Caitlin tried to get her breath and tried not to give into the fear crawling up her spine.

Darrow grabbed her under the chin and backed her up, pinned her against a wall. ‘You ripped something out of my notebook.’

‘I just made a note to buy some milk. What’s gotten into you?’ Caitlin stuttered.

‘Where is it?’

‘I threw it in the trash.’

‘Right.’ He pushed his hand into the pockets of her shorts, searching her without any finesse. He released her and threw her at Brick. ‘Take her in the back, tie her up and guard her.’

‘Wait a minute…’ Caitlin started to protest but with Brick’s firm grasp on her upper arm she was propelled into the back office before she could complete it.

‘What are you going to do with her?’ Bill asked.

‘We’ll keep an eye on her until I can arrange an accident.’ Darrow lit up a cigarette and took a long drag. ‘Nothing is going to screw this up for me.’

—

‘Get the hell out of my way.’ Hawke’s eyes were lit with the dangerous glint of a predator that would have had most men running for cover; Michael wasn’t most men.

‘You know you can’t go back there.’ The spy insisted, keeping his position in front of the van doors. They’d run an audio scan for Caitlin when she hadn’t turned up after her shift and overheard Darrow telling his men to move her to the meat factory with the other girls.

‘The odds aren’t in your favour.’ Michael continued. ‘You’ll likely get the two of you killed.’

A muscle twitched in Hawke’s jaw; the only sign that he’d heard Michael at all. The two men stared at each other for a long moment.

‘We have the information she got for us and she’s wearing the tracer; we won’t lose her, Hawke.’ Michael said gently.

‘You going to guarantee me that, Michael?’ Hawke bit out.

‘String…’ Dom’s voice heavy with worry crackled through the radio.

‘We have to plan this properly, Hawke.’ Michael said calmly. ‘If we panic and rush in there, she will end up dead. You know that.’

Hawke reached over and pressed the radio mike on. ‘Stand down, Dom.’

‘But String…’

‘Keep tracking Caitlin but rendezvous with Michael and me at the usual location. We need to come up with a rescue plan.’ Hawke signed off before Dom could protest again and stabbed a finger into Michael’s chest. ‘You’d better be right about this, Michael because if anything happens to that girl…’

‘I know.’ Michael said quietly and wondered at Hawke’s automatic defence mechanism of calling Caitlin ‘that girl’ whenever she was in trouble; he wasn’t even sure if the pilot knew he did it.

They had to travel out to the rendezvous spot and Michael used the time to examine the information Caitlin had scribbled onto the notepaper whilst his aide examined the downloaded computer file. Both tried to ignore Hawke who brooded in the corner of the van.

‘Maybe…’ Michael tapped his moustache thoughtfully. ‘What if we got this the wrong way round?’

‘What do you mean?’ Kelly asked.

‘What if Darrow approached Sterling to help expand his slave trade?’ Michael waved the notepaper that Caitlin had scribbled with the odd numbers and words. ‘I’m sure this is a business plan showing how Darrow can dominate the business with some assistance from a big brother although Sterling isn’t mentioned by name.’

‘Look what I found.’ Kelly turned the monitor so Michael could see. There was a surveillance photo of Linton in front of the warehouse. ‘It’s one of several. Darrow worked out Sterling was using the warehouse as a dummy location for the heroin and what’s more he worked out where the heroin actually is.’ She pulled up another photo. It showed an upscale nightclub. ‘This nightclub is owned by another of Sterling’s associates, a woman called Tricia Marcus. Darrow keeps his accounts on a spreadsheet. About a month ago, Farrick Textiles started to pay triple the original rental.’

‘My God.’ Michael murmured. ‘He blackmailed Sterling into going into business with him.’

‘It makes sense.’ Kelly said. ‘Caitlin’s report of the conversation Darrow had with Sterling’s men did make it seem as though it was Darrow who was calling the shots.’

‘It’s bull.’ Hawke’s voice rumbled from the shadow.

Michael and Kelly turned toward him.

Hawke gestured. ‘You really think a guy like Sterling is going to let a guy like Darrow call the shots?’

‘But…’ Kelly started to protest before Michael shook his head.

‘He’s right.’ Michael nodded at the pilot. ‘What are you thinking?’

‘I think Darrow’s being set up to take the fall.’ Hawke said.

‘I’ve got something else, sir.’ Kelly said. ‘Darrow owns three warehouses.’

‘Yes.’ Michael said impatiently.

‘But he’s tracking two of them.’ Kelly said pointing at the monitor. ‘The one leased by Farrick Textiles and a second warehouse on the other side of the docks. That must be where he’s keeping the women.’ She hunted through the rest of the details. ‘All deliveries to the second warehouse cease two days from now.’

‘That must be when he’s planning the auction.’ Michael said.

‘We’re not waiting two days to get Cait.’ Hawke growled. ‘If you’re right and Darrow is blackmailing Sterling, Darrow won’t risk keeping Caitlin alive for that long.’

The van came to a stop saving Michael from a reply. Hawke jumped out and stalked over to Airwolf leaving the spy and his aide to follow.

‘Dom,’ Hawke climbed into the pilot’s seat as Michael opened the passenger door and simply peered inside the cockpit, ‘what have you got?’

‘I’ve tracked her to a warehouse on the docks.’ Dom confirmed quickly. ‘But we’re almost out of range. If they move her again…’

‘They won’t.’ Hawke said reaching for his helmet.

‘Where are you going?’ Michael asked exasperated.

Hawke simply looked at him.

Michael sighed. ‘I’m coming with you.’ He handed his cane to Kelly. ‘Call Zebra squad and get them to meet us at that warehouse ASAP. Keep the local police out of it, Darrow probably has someone on the inside.’ He closed the door.

Hawke didn’t wait for the other man to get comfortable before taking off.

—

Caitlin struggled against the ropes binding her hands and tried to ignore the churning in her stomach. Only the fear of dying so get over it, she told herself. Hawke and Dom wouldn’t desert her. She was wearing a tracer so they would have tracked her journey from the club to a warehouse. One of Darrow’s supposedly unused properties, Caitlin thought. She’s had barely had time to register that it wasn’t the one leased to Farrick Textiles before she’s been bundled through the side entrance. Hawke and Dom were probably planning her rescue even now, she told herself. Caitlin sighed. She wished they’d get on with it.

The thought shot through her and she stiffened. Since when, she asked herself angrily, did she wait around to get rescued like some hapless TV heroine? She should be planning her own escape. She glanced around the room she’d been left in. She was tied to a chair in the centre. A couch faced a desk littered with the remnants of administrative paraphernalia; folders of paperwork stacked by shipping timetables. A table held a coffee-maker and an assortment of mugs. There was a side-door to its left and as Caitlin was musing whether it was a cupboard, it opened and Darrow stepped out.

He ignored Caitlin and headed for the coffee. He poured a mug and took a large gulp. ‘Are you ready to talk to me?’

Caitlin turned her head away and resolutely looked the other way.

‘I just want to know what you did with the piece of paper you ripped out of the notebook.’ Darrow said.

‘I told you already, it was a reminder to get milk.’ Caitlin stated firmly.

‘I’m figuring that you handed off the paper to an accomplice, maybe it was the guy in the bar who couldn’t keep his eyes off your legs. I don’t really care.’

‘I said I told you already,’ Caitlin said.

Darrow put his mug down. ‘Sure. You were left alone in the office, you poked around on my desk and you only wrote that you needed milk on a piece of notepaper.’ His tone mocked her. He opened up a filing cabinet and pulled out her handbag. ‘I know the paper isn’t in here.’ He pulled out her handgun. ‘But interestingly this was.’

She shrugged. ‘I’m Texan.’

Darrow strode across the room and shoved the gun at her head. The cool metal tip of the revolver was against her temple. ‘You had better start being honest with me.’

Caitlin pressed her lips together.

The door suddenly opened and Darrow spun surprised at the interruption. Caitlin’s eyes widened. Two of the men entering she recognised as Linton and Gorel, Sterling’s henchmen and the third paunchy man, she was sure she recognised him from the bar, Brick had called him Bill.

‘What the hell is going on?’ Darrow asked.

‘Sorry, Darrow, but I had to tell them.’ Bill said apologetically.

Darrow shrugged but his eyes promised the bent cop retribution later.

‘What’s she told you so far?’ Linton asked.

‘I was just starting the interrogation.’ Darrow said defensively.

‘Why get your hands dirty?’ Gorel said. ‘We can take over for you.’ He cracked his knuckles as though to drive his point home.

Caitlin shuddered.

‘I’d rather take care of it myself.’ Darrow insisted.

‘Boss isn’t going to be happy.’ Linton said.

‘Your boss and I have an understanding.’ Darrow snapped back.

‘If this girl is a cop, you’re operation has been compromised.’ Linton argued. ‘The best thing is to get rid of her and move up the schedule.’

‘I’ll take it under advisement.’ Darrow said. ‘Now get out or I’ll have to make a phone call your boss won’t like.’

Caitlin followed the exchange with interest.

Gorel took a step towards Darrow and Linton grabbed his arm to stop him. ‘Come on, Charlie.’

‘That’s a hell of a game you’re playing.’ Caitlin commented when the men had left the room.

‘And what you know about it?’ Darrow lit a cigarette and blew out the smoke.

‘Enough to know that Sterling isn’t the type of man to let someone else, particularly a small operator like you, calls the shots for very long.’ Caitlin allowed.

Darrow grabbed her face. ‘You should be thanking me. If I were Sterling you’d be dead by now.’

‘Go ahead.’ She taunted.

‘Oh no,’ Darrow tucked her hair behind her ear and ran a finger down her jaw regaining her attention. ‘You don’t get away that easy.’ He enjoyed the shudder she gave.

‘Max!’ The door reopened and a muscular man stepped through. Caitlin looked at him with foreboding.

‘Take her to the cage but keep her for me first. I haven’t had fresh meat in a while.’ Darrow ordered.

‘You won’t get away with this.’ Caitlin said as Max grabbed her upper arm and lifted her, struggling, to her feet.

Darrow smiled at her. ‘I already have.’ He nodded at Max and Caitlin found herself summarily pushed forward through the door and into the bowels of the warehouse.

She kept up her struggle all the way down a series of metal stairways, through a long corridor. There was a stuffy musky smell permeating the air. Max met another man who unlocked a door at the end of the corridor and shoved her down into what looked like a basement. It was almost completely filled wall to wall, ceiling to floor, with a metal cage, mesh wiring over steel bars.

Women huddled in blankets around their barely clothed bodies on thin mattresses within its wire walls. The other guard unlocked the cage and Max undid the ropes and threw Caitlin in. She lurched to her feet and banged on the cage, yelling at Max until he disappeared up the stairs leaving only a single, bare light-bulb for illumination in the dark space. As soon as he left, Caitlin dropped the hysterical act and looked at the women around her. They all looked back with something like pity. Caitlin felt bile rising as she took in the obvious physical abuse they had suffered; some seemed catatonic. It was likely, she realised that one of these women was Le’s mother.

‘Ana?’ She called and a stirring in the far corner caught her eye. A small Asian woman emerged from a cocoon of blankets to look at her warily.

‘Ana?’

‘I am Ana.’

‘I’m Caitlin.’ Caitlin smiled. ‘I know your son.’

‘Le?’ Ana’s eyes lit up in a bruised face and she hurried over. ‘You know Le? Is he…’

‘He’s OK.’ Caitlin took Ana’s hands in hers.

Ana held a trembling hand to her mouth and shook her head, unable to believe. ‘And my sister?’

Caitlin’s face saddened. ‘I’m afraid Minh died just over a month ago.’ She squeezed the other woman’s hand. ‘I’ll explain everything when we get out of here.’ She started to look around, testing the cage.

‘Look, sister, you don’t seem to realise that we’re locked up.’

Caitlin whirled to see a young African-American woman stand up. The woman swept an arm around the cage. ‘Or hadn’t you noticed our accommodation?’

‘I noticed.’ She bit out. ‘But I’m not about to stick around for Darrow to kill me.’ She looked around at the gathered women. ‘If we work together we can get out of this.’

‘Why should we want to?’ One of the other women said. ‘Darrow’s a pig but we’ll get our green cards after the auction.’

‘If you help me I know someone who can help you get your green card without being sold to some slobbering jerk who thinks he owns you body and soul.’ Caitlin insisted.

A couple of murmurs around the cage indicated that the other women were agreeing with her.

‘Look,’ Caitlin said pressing her point, ‘I’m wearing a tracer. My friends will have a plan to rescue me. We can all get out.’

A few more of the women surged to their feet.

‘I want to take them down.’ An angry looking brunette with bruises covering her arms and torso. ‘I want to grind Darrow’s head into the dust.’

‘And Max,’ added another voice, ‘and Horace.’

‘Looks like you got yourself a deal, sister.’ One of the woman grinned.

Caitlin started to smile as most of the women rose to their feet. She nodded at them and started organising.

—

Hawke brought Airwolf into land in a parking lot at the docks and ran out to climb into the FIRM limo along with Michael. They peeled away from the empty parking lot and sped towards the warehouse, the van carrying the Zebra squad following them. Airwolf flew over the limo; Dom would provide back-up in the helicopter.

‘Are you sure she’s still in there?’ Meryl, another of Michael’s aides asked.

‘She’s in there.’ Michael confirmed and glanced at Hawke. The pilot was dangerously quiet but then whilst they might know where Caitlin was what they didn’t know was if she was alive or dead. He dragged his mind away from the idea. ‘Are we all set up?’

‘We are. Zebra squad know what they have to do.’ Meryl confirmed.

Hawke opened the door as the limo swung to a halt and leaped out, not waiting for Michael or the squad who disembarked in swift efficiency to surround the building. Hawke made for a side-entrance, his gun in his hand. He dived for the floor as a shot rang out from the reception desk and returned fire. Michael crawled on his stomach to lie beside him and backed him up. Overhead, Airwolf screamed a challenge.

Hawke saw a flash of grey flannel, targeted and fired. The shooter went down, slumping onto the reception desk. Hawke scrambled to his feet and ran to the end of the hall. He tried the handle on the door; it was locked. He shouldered the door; once, twice. A hand drew him back. Michael aimed and shot out the lock. They exchanged a look and in unison rushed through into the room where they came to a shocked halt.

Caitlin blocked another blow from Darrow, grasped his leading arm and threw him over her shoulder. She spun and kicked Darrow in the head. He made a strange gurgle and collapsed face down on the carpet. Caitlin wiped blood off her lip and looked up from the unconscious form of Darrow into Hawke’s stunned blue eyes.

‘So what took you guys so long?’ She asked, flexing her hand, a smile starting on her lips.

Hawke holstered his gun. ‘Traffic.’ He couldn’t quite keep a straight face; his relief at seeing her had him smiling. He covered the two steps separating them and hugged her.

‘Ow.’ She squirmed and he loosened his hold, looking down at her in concern taking in the bruises and scrapes.

‘You OK?’

She nodded. ‘I found Ana.’

‘You did?’ Hawke murmured unsure what to feel as her words sent so many emotions churning through him; relief, uncertainty, delight…A movement by the inner door behind had them both whirling to face the potential threat; it was one of the women. Caitlin patted his chest and walked over to her calling to Hawke over her shoulder. ‘It’s OK. Ellen’s with me.’

‘Everything’s secure, Caitlin. Max and Horace are all tied up.’ Ellen grinned.

Caitlin smiled. ‘Great job. Let’s start bringing up the wounded.’ She turned to Michael. ‘We’re going to need medics. Some of these women have been systematically raped over a long period of time.’

Michael nodded. ‘I’ll take of it.’

‘I also…kinda told them they didn’t need to worry about their green cards.’ Caitlin admitted.

Michael sighed and pushed his glasses up his nose. ‘I guess I could take care of that too.’

‘Thanks, Michael.’ She turned back to go through the door and into the depths of the warehouse.

‘Hey!’

She glanced back at Hawke.

‘You want some help down there?’ He asked.

Caitlin smiled and nodded.

It was much later that they were able to get away to the cabin. Hawke opened the door apprehensively. Le had complained loudly at being left behind with one of Michael’s aides and he rushed to meet his uncle. His young face was pinched in anxious hopefulness and he practically danced from foot to foot.

‘Did you…?’ Le asked.

Hawke moved to the side. Ana stood framed in the doorway, the early morning sun behind her. Mother and son stared at each other for a long time.

‘Mom?’ Le spoke for the first time.

‘Le.’ She held out her arms and Le started walking forward…forward and then…he skirted the outstretched arms of his mother and ran from the cabin. Ana’s face crumpled for a second before she regained her composure.

Hawke made to go after Le. Ana stopped him with a gentle touch on his arm.

‘Please let me.’ She said.

He hesitated and she took that as acceptance, walking quickly out of the cabin. He saw catch up to her son by the FIRM helicopter. Hawke watched them a lump in his throat. Ana was holding her arms out again and Le was moving…moving into the hug with his mother.

Hawke swallowed against hard and folded his arms. He tried to look everywhere except at the reunion of mother and son but his eyes were drawn back to them. He felt his friends enter the cabin to stand beside him, offering him their silent support.

‘We should give them some privacy.’ He said softly and without waiting for a reply closed the door. He wandered back to the fire and glared unseeingly at the barely burning embers. The others left him alone to his thoughts retiring to the bar at the back of the house. He didn’t know how long he’d stood there when he heard Michael’s quiet voice behind him.

‘I’m sorry, Hawke.’ The sincere apology caused Hawke to turn and look at his friend questioningly. ‘I know how much Le means to you.’ Michael explained.

Hawke dropped his gaze and rubbed at his chest as though it could reach through to the inner ache there. ‘We’ve reunited a mother and son, Michael. That’s hardly cause for an apology.’

‘I’m still sorry. I know how much you wanted this to work out.’

‘Maybe it wasn’t meant to.’ Hawke murmured, thinking of all the heart-searching he’d endured during the past few weeks. He glanced over at Caitlin who was being fussed over by Dom. Her bruises were livid against her pale skin even in the low lighting of the cabin.

Michael followed Hawke’s gaze and stroked his moustache. ‘She’s a constant surprise.’

‘Yeah.’ Hawke agreed. He looked as though he was about to say something when the cabin door opened and Ana walked towards them hand in hand with Le. Michael excused himself.

‘Isn’t this amazing Uncle String?’ Le beamed at him and Hawke tried to smile back.

‘Amazing.’ He agreed past the lump in his throat.

‘Le, I need to speak to Mr. Hawke alone.’ Ana said cupping the cheek of her son with the palm of her hand.

‘Why don’t we go outside? Give your Mom and Uncle a chance to talk?’

Hawke started at Caitlin’s voice and was surprised to find her standing close by.

Le smiled and took her bandaged hand. Caitlin smiled sympathetically at him and allowed Le to drag her outdoors. Dom and Michael followed them out.

Ana’s proud eyes followed her son. Hawke saw the love in her face and felt his own heart seize.

‘He’s a good boy.’ He said.

‘I know.’ Ana turned, looked up at him. ‘I may never be able to thank you.’

‘It was Caitlin who found you…’

‘You were the one who took my son in and gave him a home.’ Ana interrupted. ‘I at least owe you the truth about your brother.’

Hawke tensed, his jaw tightening imperceptibly.

‘I was never married to your brother. He stood as best man to my husband. He lent us his ring.’ Ana took hold of his hand. ‘He protected me when my husband died; gave me and my baby a name in the hopes an American name would grant us passage to America when the war ended but he is not Le’s father nor my husband.’

Hawke bowed his head at the blow. He’d gotten used to thinking of Le as family. His blue eyes misted over and it took a moment to recover his voice. ‘It doesn’t matter to me.’

Ana smiled at him. ‘It did not matter to your brother either.’ She looked over at the open door which framed her son playing with Tet by the porch steps, her eyes shining with tenderness. ‘And it will not matter to Le.’

Hawke cleared his throat. ‘Ana, do you know anything about where Saint John might be?’

She shook her head. ‘He left on a mission. He didn’t come back.’

‘Do you know what the mission was? Or where?’ Hawke pressed.

She shook her head. ‘He said he could not talk about it.’

Hawke sighed and rolled his shoulders to ease the frustration knotting the muscles there.

‘I’m sorry.’ Ana murmured.

He tried to smile and shrugged.

‘I should also tell you…Michael was able to get a number for my husband’s family and I called them from the hospital. They knew about Le and I from my husband’s letters. They have offered us a home with them. They want to get to know us.’

‘When do you leave?’ Hawke stated taking in the determination in the drawn lines of her face and tensed muscles.

‘I’d like to leave as soon as we can arrange transport. Today if possible.’

‘I could fly you both there.’ Hawke offered.

‘Thank you.’ Ana reached up and kissed his cheek. ‘You’ll want to talk to Le. I’ll get him for you.’

Hawke turned his back to the door until Le’s footsteps gave him the signal to turn back. He smiled at the familiar hunched posture as Le shoved his hands in his pockets and gazed up at him with a solemn face and wise eyes.

‘My Mom said we’re going to move and live in Seattle.’

‘Yeah.’ Hawke shoved his own hands in the back pockets of his jeans. ‘How do you feel about that?’

Le shrugged. ‘It’s OK I guess. She is my mom.’

‘Yes, she is.’ Hawke’s voice caught on the lump in his throat. He took a deep breath. ‘I’m going to fly you there, if that’s OK with you?’

Le nodded and kicked the ground before he pinned Hawke with an intent stare. ‘You could come with us. I mean, for real.’

Hawke shook his head. ‘No. This is a new beginning for you. You and your mom need time together. You don’t want me hanging around.’

‘But you’ll be lonely.’ Le insisted.

‘Nah.’ Hawke gestured at the open door. ‘I have Dom and Caitlin and Tet.’ He ruffled Le’s hair and then pulled the boy to him, leaning down to hug him tightly. ‘I’m still going to miss you though. But I can visit.’

‘You’ll visit?’ Le’s muffled voice said into his chest.

‘I’ll visit.’ Hawke promised as his eyes blurred over again. He moved so he could look in Le’s eyes. ‘If you ever need me…’

Le nodded and hugged him again. ‘I love you Uncle String.’

‘I love you too, Half-pint.’ He clutched the boy closer for a second and then with a Herculean effort, let him go.

fin.

Next Story: The Jade Wolf