Storytime with Rachel F Hundred

Stringfellow Hawke watched his opponent carefully. The blue eyes that stared back at him were filled with an odd mixture of innocence and cunning. A hand lifted away from the white queen. Hawke reviewed the chess board in front of him and moved one of the few remaining pieces he had.

‘Check-mate.’ He said.

Angelina Coldsmith-Briggs frowned at her Uncle String and glared at the board. Her eyes scanned back over the pieces as her quick mind worked out the pilot’s strategy. ‘I want a rematch.’

There was a hint of a laugh from the man sitting behind her and she whirled to glare at her father. ‘Daddy…’

‘Time for bed, angel.’ Michael Coldsmith-Briggs III said firmly reaching out to tweak her nose.

‘But Daddy, I’m eleven now.’ She protested even though her father had already agreed to one extension of her bedtime which was why she was playing chess in her pyjamas.

‘And I’m still much older.’ Michael pointed out. ‘Go on and get into bed. I’ll come in to say goodnight in a minute.’

Angelina got to her feet reluctantly but she knew when her father used that tone that she wasn’t going to win the argument. ‘Night, Uncle String.’ She hugged the pilot fondly and Hawke reached out to ruffle her golden hair.

‘Night, sweet pea.’

‘Night, Marella.’ Angelina moved onto her father’s senior aide and his girlfriend. She had decided she liked Marella a lot and as she quite liked the idea of being a bridesmaid, she had taken her Auntie Caitlin to one side earlier to ask how they could get her Daddy to marry the brunette. The bubbly redhead had promised she’d think of something and Angelina skipped over to give her a hug good-night too before she disappeared to what she considered to be her room in the cabin extension.

‘I have to admit,’ Marella said as she helped Hawke clear away the chess game, ‘I didn’t even work out your strategy until half-way through.’

‘I barely worked it out until the end.’ Michael admitted ruefully. ‘I’m still surprised you won; I thought she had you.’ He was barely able to win against his daughter anymore. She had a genius level IQ and was already way ahead of other girls her age academically.

‘It’s about knowing your opponent.’ Hawke commented.

‘She’s eleven years old.’ Marella said with a laugh.

‘Yeah.’ Hawke said. ‘An eleven year old who already thinks like a spy.’

There was a faint edge of disgust to the statement and his wife laughed at the expressions of the two spies in the room.

‘I’m going to take it as a compliment, Hawke.’ Michael warned the other man.

Hawke shrugged and his blue eyes met Michael’s good one with amusement as the spy rose to his feet and headed towards his daughter’s room. Hawke settled back against the sofa and slid an arm around Caitlin who leaned him into him happily, a hand resting on the baby carrier by her side.

Marella smiled at the picture of happy contentment the couple made. She glanced around the festive cabin. It looked welcoming and homily. The fire blazed in the hearth. There was a tree festooned with baubles and lights, and a stack of presents under its branches in one corner of the room. Her dark eyes slid back to the baby and she felt again the sharp tug of jealousy that she would never have the chance to carry her own child. A bullet taken in the line of duty protecting Michael had put paid to her ability to have children. She took a sip of her wine to cover her melancholy and made a determined effort to move past it. She was actually very blessed, she thought. Angelina was growing to feel more and more like a surrogate daughter every day and she was godmother to the Hawke’s new baby son, Nicky, a responsibility she took seriously. She got to her feet as the baby started to fuss and waved at Caitlin to sit still.

She picked up the crying child and her nose wrinkled. ‘Looks like someone needs a diaper change.’

‘Are you sure you want to do it?’ Caitlin asked resettling against Hawke as Marella headed for the stairs and the nursery area on the top landing.

‘Sure.’ Marella called over her shoulder.

Hawke and Caitlin exchanged an amused look and cuddled into each other again.

‘How long do you think until the novelty factor of the diaper changes wears off?’ Hawke asked. He had lasted a couple of days and whilst he adored his son, he had already conceded that he could do without the whole diaper change experience.

‘I hope it doesn’t.’ Caitlin said. ‘Marella’s a godsend.’ Babies were tiring and she was grateful for the other woman’s help.

‘Yeah, a real angel.’ Hawke quipped referring to the old nickname for Michael’s female agents when he had run a division for the FIRM. The spy no longer had the division and was now the head of the new Airwolf project for the Company, the intelligence agency that had taken over the FIRM. Michael was building the next generation of the mach capable and technologically advanced helicopter whilst the Company operated the old Airwolf machine with a small team that included Hawke’s own older brother, Saint John.

Caitlin gave Hawke a playful slap at the quip.

‘Ow.’ Hawke said rubbing his arm.

‘Ow?’ Caitlin smiled. ‘I didn’t hit you that hard.’

‘Maybe you should give me a kiss to say sorry.’

‘A kiss, huh?’ Caitlin’s eyes darkened. She reached up and snagged his lips with hers. ‘That better?’

‘I think we ought to try that again.’ Hawke said and kissed her soundly.

‘You two do remember you have visitors?’

Hawke raised his head and sighed as he caught the amusement on Michael’s face as the other man rejoined them.

Caitlin patted her husband’s hand sympathetically as she got to her feet. ‘I’ll make some coffee.’

The drink was brewed whilst the baby’s needs were addressed and the four friends were soon sat back around the fire with Nicky asleep in the upstairs cot. Hawke and Caitlin shared the sofa whilst Marella perched on the arm of Michael’s chair.

‘I seriously don’t know how you manage to get anything done with the baby around.’ Michael commented taking a sip of the coffee.

‘It’s an art.’ Caitlin replied. ‘Everything takes three times as long and…’

‘We’re learning to do everything one handed.’ Hawke explained.

‘You love it.’ Michael said wrapping his fingers around Marella’s as he smiled at the couple’s evident enjoyment of their new parental status.

The Hawkes shrugged in unison but didn’t deny the charge.

‘So you’re still heading to your folks for the holidays?’ Hawke asked Michael.

The spy nodded. ‘We’ll spend a couple of days with my folks and then we’re flying down to Maui to see Marella’s.’ The couple looked at Caitlin expectantly.

‘I’m not going to say a word.’ She said with a laugh.

Michael and Marella smiled at each other.

‘No, meeting the parents comments of any kind?’ Michael teased.

Caitlin shrugged. ‘I’m too tired.’ Her blue-eyes gleamed. ‘Besides I think you’ll probably have your hands full enough trying to keep Angelina’s Christmas wish to be a bridesmaid under control. She’s in full recruitment mode for co-conspirators.’

‘Ah that.’ Michael smiled. ‘Her friend Chrissy just got to be a bridesmaid.’

‘So now she wants to be one too.’ Marella added.

‘We’re just the handiest couple.’ Michael added. ‘We already have it under control.’

Hawke raised an eyebrow. ‘Sure. I mean, I’m certain your and Marella’s Mom will be unwilling to join Angelina’s scheme completely.’

Both spies blanched.

Hawke’s lips twitched.

‘Today’s been great.’ Caitlin said taking pity on their friends and changing the subject. ‘It’s been a while since we all got together.’

‘Not since you first came back from Switzerland.’ Michael noted. The couple had spent months there whilst Hawke recuperated from the injuries he’d sustained in a helicopter explosion that had killed the pilot’s surrogate father, Dominic Santini. His absence in the group still felt like a gaping hole to Michael, and he briefly wondered how it must feel for Hawke. He glanced across at the other man in time to see him exchange a look with his wife.

‘What?’ Michael questioned.

‘Well, I did have a slightly ulterior motive in inviting you.’ Hawke admitted.

Michael’s lips twitched. ‘I can’t give you anymore time off. I need you on the project first thing after the New Year.’

Hawke’s lips curved a little. ‘That actually wasn’t it.’

‘Oh?’

Hawke looked at Caitlin who smiled at him encouragingly. ‘You remember I told you about the incident with Yahara and my brother?’ A former Japanese pilot had kidnapped his brother a few days previously. The man had been determined to lift what he considered a stain of honour for being captured in the war by killing the son of the man who had captured him and destroying a nuclear power plant. Luckily, Saint John had escaped and Hawke had shot down Yahara in Airwolf.

‘Yes.’ Michael nodded and he felt Marella shift beside him.

‘Well, Yahara made a couple of comments to my brother about my father that kinda got him,’ Hawke gestured, ‘well both of us wondering.’

‘Wondering what?’ Michael asked carefully. He had a horrible feeling he already knew what the Hawkes were thinking.

‘Whether our parents might still be alive.’

Hawke’s quiet words confirmed the spy’s fears and he rubbed his moustache whilst he considered what to say.

‘But your parents died in a boating accident when you were twelve.’ Marella’s confusion rang through her statement.

‘Well, we know from what happened earlier this year that the whole Hawke family was to go into witness protection after Hawke’s dad, Alan and Dom helped the Feds bring down Angelo Cordelli and Sallis for the death of Hawke’s grandfather, Elijah.’ Caitlin chimed in. ‘We think maybe things went wrong when the storm hit early and Hawke and Saint John went overboard but that it’s still possible their parents went ahead with the original plan and the FBI simply scuppered the boat to make it appear like they had been capsized during the storm.’

‘But I can’t believe they would leave their sons behind.’ Marella said folding her arms.

‘Neither can we but,’ Caitlin said, ‘maybe it’s just possible the FBI lied to them and told them the boys were lost at sea.’

‘That’s a stretch.’ Marella frowned. ‘Exactly what did this Yahara character say anyway?’

‘Yahara’s information seemed to indicate that Alan Hawke died five years ago of a heart attack.’ Caitlin continued.

‘The information could have been wrong.’ Marella pointed out.

‘He was very thorough and very organised.’ Caitlin said. ‘He had to have gotten the information from somewhere.’

‘And you want us to help you track down where he got it.’ Marella surmised.

‘If there is a possibility that the Hawkes are still alive or maybe even just Hawke’s mother, Jane, we should try and find them.’ Caitlin said.

Hawke looked at Michael. ‘You’re awful quiet, Michael.’

The spy sighed and met Hawke’s blue gaze resolutely. ‘The FBI has an open file on your parents.’

There were equal looks of astonishment across all three of his companions although Hawke’s face quickly smoothed into an impassivity that worried Michael; it usually indicated that the pilot was furiously angry.

‘How do you know that?’ Hawke demanded.

Michael got to his feet and paced a little until he displaced Hawke’s dog, Tet, directly in front of the hearth, the heat of the fire warm against the back of his white trousers. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and looked at his friend regretfully. ‘Dominic asked me to investigate whether there was the possibility your parents were still alive.’ He saw the shock slam past the impassivity.

‘Dom came to you?’ Hawke scowled. ‘I don’t believe it.’

Michael held up a hand. ‘Let me explain.’

‘You’d better.’ Hawke growled.

‘About a month after Dominic was kidnapped and tortured by Sallis he came to my office. He didn’t really want to be there and it was only after some coaxing that he finally admitted why he’d come to see me.’ Michael sighed. ‘He told me that he had re-evaluated his own belief in whether your parents were dead because Sallis had been so certain your father was alive and the FBI agent, Dawson, had been less than forthcoming when Dominic challenged him on it.’

‘And that’s when he asked you to help?’ Caitlin deduced.

‘Sallis was searching for Alan Hawke, presumably the Cordelli’s would like to know where he is too; Dominic knew if he began to search there was a good possibility that he would tip them all off and potentially lead them right to them if they were still alive.’ Michael said. ‘He also knew that getting information about anyone in witness protection is difficult enough when you’re in the loop never mind if you’re an outsider.’

‘He figured you could use your connections with the FBI and find out whether they were in protection or not.’ Hawke concluded.

Michael nodded.

‘So what did the FBI file say?’ Caitlin asked impatiently.

‘I don’t know.’

‘You don’t know?’ Her voice rose in disbelief.

‘Dominic asked me to drop the investigation before I could do more than verify there was an open file.’ Michael said.

Hawke stood up. He stared at the other man for a tense heartbeat. He didn’t know what was worse; knowing Michael had known it was a possibility and kept it a secret or knowing Dom had known it was a possibility and not only had kept it a secret from him but had involved Michael. He turned and stalked out of the cabin.

Marella put a hand on Michael’s arm as he made to follow. ‘Do you think that’s wise?’ She had half a fear that Hawke would punch him.

‘Let him go.’ Caitlin said.

Marella looked over at her friend. ‘Are you sure?’

Caitlin nodded. ‘They need to work it out.’

Marella let go of Michael with a sigh.

‘Thank you.’ Michael said to Caitlin quietly.

‘Don’t make me regret it.’ She warned him folding her arms across her chest.

Michael gave a small nod and headed out of the cabin. Hawke hadn’t gone far. He was resting against the porch railing staring out into the darkness at the glassy waters of the lake. Michael closed the cabin door and went to stand beside him. ‘I’m sorry, Hawke.’

‘Dom made you promise not to tell me didn’t he?’ Hawke said idly, pushing a hand through his short crop of brown hair. He’d taken two steps out of the cabin and had rapidly deduced what had happened.

Michael nodded.

‘Why didn’t he tell me?’ Hawke asked plaintively finally looking at Michael.

Michael sighed and leaned against the railing. ‘He was…shaken by it all himself, Hawke, and there was nothing conclusive. All he had was a theory that the FBI lied about the whole thing at the time of the boating accident. He didn’t want to upset you with half-baked theories. That’s why he came to me.’ He pushed his glasses up his nose. ‘I didn’t find out very much either from the initial enquiries I made. There was nothing but an active file and a lot of unanswered questions. Then Caitlin found out she was pregnant and digging deeper would have meant taking the risk of alerting the Cordelli’s and Sallis…Dom decided he just wanted you all safe.’

Sounded like Dom, Hawke thought. ‘You still should have told me.’ He muttered.

‘Hawke, I can count on exactly one finger the number of times Dominic Santini asked me for something.’ Michael said quietly. ‘He made his decision and I respected that.’

‘And you think he made the right one.’ He noted crossing his arms.

‘Yes, I do.’ Michael said. ‘If you dig into this you could lead the Cordelli’s and Sallis straight to your parents. You could put Caitlin and Nicky at risk. Have you or your brother thought about that?’

Hawke shifted his weight a little uneasily. ‘We haven’t got much further than thinking it might be possible that our parents are alive, Michael.’

‘Well maybe you ought to think about it.’ Michael said firmly. ‘The Cordelli family are still considered to be a powerful force in organised crime. Your father accepted the witness protection scheme to keep his family safe from their retribution.’ He pointed a finger at Hawke. ‘If you alert the Cordelli’s and lead them to him and your mother, incur their wrath yourself, his whole sacrifice will have been for nothing.’

Hawke turned back to the lake and Michael could see his words had hit home in the tense lines that creased the pilot’s face. It was a few minutes before he spoke again.

‘Michael,’ Hawke stared out at a distant point, ‘even if I agree with you, and even if I was inclined to drop it, I can’t.’ He turned to look at his friend. ‘I have to know the truth and I know Saint John feels the same way.’

‘No matter what the cost?’ Michael asked softly.

‘If you help me,’ Hawke said, ‘I don’t think it’ll come to that and besides, I think I know how to stop the Cordelli’s.’

Michael raised a questioning eyebrow.

Hawke thumped the porch railing gently. ‘We bring their operation down; once and for all. Take them out of the picture. If the threat is gone then if my parents are in hiding they can come out.’

Michael blinked at him and then shook his head in reluctant admiration. ‘You don’t think small, do you?’

‘The best defence, Michael.’ Hawke murmured.

‘And if your parents aren’t in hiding, if they did die like you’ve always believed?’

Hawke gestured. ‘I’ll accept that but I’m sure Uncle Sam won’t mind having one less mob family to worry about and given the history between our two families…’ he shrugged, ‘maybe it would be some justice for my father and grandfather.’

The spy sighed. ‘If we’re going to do this, we’re going to have to plan the operation carefully. We can’t just go rushing in. It’s going to take time and patience.’

Hawke nodded.

‘Will your brother understand that?’ Michael asked.

‘Michael, he’ll probably have more patience for it than I will.’ Hawke said wryly.

Michael nodded. ‘And are we OK?’ He checked.

‘We’re OK.’ Hawke said. ‘I might not like it, Michael, but I know you were trying to do the right thing by Dom.’ He sighed. ‘And I know Dom was trying to do the right thing too. It’s just…’ His voice trailed away.

Michael clasped his shoulder. ‘For what it’s worth I miss him too.’

‘Yeah.’ Hawke jerked his head at the cabin. ‘We’d better get back inside before Cait and Marella think we’ve killed each other.’

‘Not to mention they’ll want in on this.’ Michael said.

‘Not to mention.’ Hawke murmured.

‘How do we stop that?’ Michael mused.

‘Let me know when you figure it out.’ Hawke said ruefully as they headed indoors.

—

Jason Locke looked up at the house in front of him and wondered briefly whether everything in Michael Coldsmith-Briggs’s world was white. He looked around curiously. There was no doubt the beach house was beautiful. It was set on the cliff edge, its pale white walls a stunning contrast with the blue sky and aquamarine sea in the distance. He rang the doorbell and waited. When he had asked for a meeting with his predecessor on the Airwolf file he had been expecting the location to be the Company headquarters or the man’s new offices wherever they were; he hadn’t expected an invitation to his home.

He got his second surprise when Michael himself opened the door; he had expected a maid.

‘Archangel.’ Locke said formally. His dark eyes glanced off Michael’s informal attire of a checked shirt and chinos, and widened.

Michael smiled at the other agent. Locke was immaculately turned out; his dark suit pressed, his white shirt crisp, the tie subdued but obviously silk, and shoes that gleamed with polish. His black, wiry hair was neatly trimmed as was the matching moustache. He took in the other man’s bemused expression as he invited him into the house and decided against explaining that he dropped the all-white uniform in his own home for Angelina to have some normality.

‘Can I offer you anything?’ Michael asked. ‘Tea, coffee?’

‘Coffee would be good.’ Locke said following the other man through to a sunny kitchen.

Michael rested his cane against the counter and took out a couple of mugs. He poured the coffee and offered Locke one. ‘Milk, sugar?’

‘Black’s fine.’ Locke said taking the coffee. ‘Thank you.’

‘We’ll use my study.’ Michael said pointing in the direction of the corridor with his cane.

Locke let him lead the way again and glanced around the opposing room. It was large with floor to ceiling bookshelves stacked high with beautifully bound books. There were two large green leather sofas in front of an ornate fireplace and the large coffee table between the sofas had a chess board set out ready for a game. A matching leather green chair sat in front of a mahogany desk which was stacked high with open files. A white leather chair on the other side was in front of open French doors that led to a small balcony which overlooked the Pacific Ocean. Locke could smell the sea. He was surprised again when Michael avoided the desk and led the way to the sofas. When Michael sat on one; Locke sank into a seat opposite.

‘Do you play?’ Michael asked seeing the other man glance at the chess game.

‘Not for a long time.’ Locke said.

‘So why the meeting?’ Michael asked leaning back against the leather cushions, his one good eye scanning over the other man with the experience of a skilled operative.

‘Straight to business. I can do that.’ Locke set his mug down on a coaster. He clasped his hands in front of him. ‘Saint John told me that Hawke intended to talk to you about the possibility of their parents being alive. Has he done that yet?’

‘Yes. A couple of nights ago.’ Michael answered. He took a sip of his drink.

‘What do you think?’ Locke said.

‘Of what exactly?’ Michael asked calmly. ‘The idea that their parents may still be alive or the idea of finding them?’

‘Both.’ Locke retorted his dark eyes flashing.

‘On the former, I would say it’s a definite possibility.’ Michael said.

‘Because of this thing with Dominic Santini earlier in the year?’ Locke pressed.

Michael took another sip of his coffee and considered his response. His good eye held the other agent’s gaze firmly. ‘Because Dominic himself believed it was possible.’

‘What do you mean?’ Locke asked confused.

‘When Dominic was kidnapped by Edward Sallis it made him reconsider some of the information the FBI gave to him at the time of the Hawkes’ boating accident.’ Michael explained. ‘He realised that the FBI agent in charge back in the Sixties never actually confirmed that Alan and Jane Hawke were dead. He realised that there was a possibility that they had been told the boys, who had been accidentally swept overboard, hadn’t survived the storm.’

‘Why would he think that?’ Locke asked.

‘Sallis tortured him for information.’ Michael said. ‘I think it’s fair to say the events of what happened came back to him in excruciating detail.’ He sighed. ‘And I think the conviction that Sallis had that Alan Hawke was still alive prompted it to some extent too. When Dominic confronted the FBI, he got more evasion and…’

‘Jumped to the conclusion his theory was probably right.’

Michael shrugged.

‘And you think he was probably right.’

‘I think the FBI has an open file on Alan and Jane Hawke,’ Michael said, ‘and I think there are some unanswered questions.’

‘How do you know that?’ Locke asked surprised.

‘Dominic asked me to investigate earlier in the year.’

‘And?’

‘And when it became clear that we were going to have to dig deeper, he didn’t want to take the risk of alerting Sallis or the Cordelli family. Caitlin had just found out she was pregnant, Hawke was happier than he had been in years and Dom didn’t want to risk putting Hawke’s parents in potential danger by blowing their cover either.’

‘He decided to drop it.’ Locke said.

Michael nodded again.

‘Which brings us on to the second question.’ Locke’s head tilted. ‘What do you think of the Hawke brothers searching for their parents now?’

Michael wrapped his hands around his mug. ‘What do you think of Saint John Hawke?’

Locke frowned. ‘Why do…’

Michael held up a hand. ‘Just answer the question.’

‘He’s a hell of a pilot, a good soldier,’ Locke said gesturing, ‘and a good man; honourable, straight as an arrow.’ He shrugged. ‘I don’t see…’

‘You’ve given him quite a testimonial but this is the same man who lied to you for months about the fate of his brother.’

Locke’s jaw tightened. ‘I’ll agree that his behaviour over his brother is one thing I would change.’

Michael gave a little huff of laughter. ‘When I gave you the Airwolf file do you remember what I told you about Hawke?’

‘That he was a pain in the butt.’ Locke commented. His dark eyes gleamed with sudden amusement. ‘Although you didn’t tell how much of a pain in the butt he really is.’

‘I did say that, didn’t I?’ Michael remembered amused. ‘Do you also remember me telling you that Hawke was a reasonable man?’

The memory clicked in Locke’s mind. ‘Sure, a reasonable man…’ his face filled with sudden understanding, ‘until it came to the matter of his brother.’ He sighed. ‘You think they’ll have the same attitude about their parents as they have about each other.’

‘I don’t think they’ll have the same attitude,’ Michael corrected, ‘I know they have the same attitude.’

Locke sighed. ‘Jo said when the two of them got their heads together on something nobody was able to get through to them.’

‘Maybe Dominic might have been able to have talked sense into them.’ Michael mused. ‘But I think Ms Santini is probably correct. However, from everything I know, the two brothers were also supposed to be a formidable team when they worked together.’

‘You knew Dominic Santini.’ Locke recalled. ‘What was he like?’

‘Dominic?’ Michael gathered his thoughts for a moment, his mind’s eye turned inward. ‘On the surface, an old veteran pilot who lived to recount past glories and tried to run a half-decent air service and underneath? He was a bona fide American hero.’ He didn’t realise his words were coated with fondness. ‘A damned good engineer. A patriot. Loyal.’ He looked back up at Locke. ‘He loved the Hawke brothers like they were his own sons. He would have done anything for Hawke, anything. Backed him up without question.’

‘It sounds like it’s a shame he’s no longer around.’ Locke noted.

‘A damn shame.’ Michael said.

‘Saint John said you got his killer.’

‘A few weeks back.’ Michael sighed. ‘We’re a little off track here.’

‘Well, you’ve answered my questions; you think there is a real possibility their parents might still be out there and you think they’ll go after them regardless of what we think.’ He rubbed his chin. ‘We could both refuse to help them.’

Michael shook his head. ‘It won’t stop them.’

‘But it’d slow them down.’

‘I’d rather back them up.’ Michael said carefully.

‘The Company won’t like this.’ Locke said quietly.

‘I’m not worried about the Company.’ Michael rejoined.

Locke shook his head in disbelief. ‘You should be. We don’t have jurisdiction to go anywhere near this. Witness protection, organised crime on US soil. The FBI would have a field day with us if we so much as stuck our toe in that pond.’

‘Locke,’ Michael leaned forward putting his own mug down, ‘Hawke asked me to help him not because I work for the Company but because I’m his friend. I assume Saint John asked you on the same basis. Now I don’t know what your friendship with the man is but I know I’m helping my friend find his family.’ He got to his feet. ‘I think this conversation is over.’ He made for the door.

‘Wait.’ Locke almost shouted the word as he lurched to his feet. He sighed at Michael’s inquisitive expression. ‘If we’re going to do this then we should work together and make sure that we limit the fallout.’

Locke resumed his seat as Michael sat back down. He picked up his coffee and took a healthy gulp as he reviewed his predecessor’s calm expression. ‘Where do we start?’

‘I’ve agreed with Hawke that the first thing we do is limit the risk of the Cordelli’s or Sallis going after other people close to the brothers.’ Michael picked up his own mug. ‘Caitlin remains officially dead and I’ve sealed Nicky’s birth record in the same way as I did with the marriage.’

‘That still leaves Jo and Mike exposed as associates of Saint John’s.’

Michael inclined his head. ‘Jo in particular is at risk given her relationship with Dominic.’

Locke grimaced. ‘I don’t think there’s a way around that.’

‘Possibly not given the set-up you have with the Airwolf team.’ Michael stroked his moustache. ‘We’ll just have to deal with that as a risk.’

‘What about the exposure to the Company?’

‘Unofficial business. We keep it off the books.’ Michael said annoyed that the second thought the other man had was for the agency; he tried to remind himself that when he’d worked for the FIRM, it had been his first thought in everything he did. ‘It gives the director complete deniability.’

‘Agreed.’ Locke said. ‘So I guess that leaves us with two activities; one to find the Hawkes and the second to monitor Cordelli and Sallis and ensure they don’t get interested.’

‘Hawke has a plan for the latter.’ Michael said.

‘He does?’

‘He wants to take them down.’ Michael leaned back and watched the incredulity chase across Locke’s face.

‘He…he…’ Locke gestured. ‘Does he know the Cordelli’s are a powerful mob family with connections into most of the organised crime in this country? The odds of him achieving that are…are unimaginable.’

‘But we have one thing going for us.’ Michael said calmly.

‘What’s that?’

Michael smiled. ‘Hawke doesn’t know the odds.’

Locke was speechless; he didn’t know what he was more stunned by – Hawke’s idea to take out the Cordelli’s or Michael’s total confidence that Hawke would do it. He drank his coffee down and wished it was something much stronger. ‘How do we find the Hawkes?’ He asked trying to steer the conversation back onto what he considered sensible ground.

‘Two avenues.’ Michael noted. ‘Firstly, the FBI, both the agent in charge and the file itself, and secondly, this Yahara character. He must have got his information from somewhere.’

‘Right.’ Locke nodded.

‘You know it wouldn’t look odd for you to follow up on Yahara officially given what happened.’ Michael said.

‘I could do that.’ Locke agreed. ‘You’ll take the FBI?’

Michael nodded. He felt the other agent was probably comfortable with that arrangement; any fallout would land directly on Michael’s head. ‘I’m going to Washington for a few days for budget meetings after Christmas. I intend to start digging then.’

Locke sighed and put the mug down. ‘We’re really going to do this.’

Michael smiled sympathetically. ‘One thing I’ve learned from dealing with a Hawke, Locke; you back them up and they’ll return the favour a hundred times over.’

There was the sound of the front door opening and a clatter of footsteps.

Locke was on his feet in an instant and was about to reach for his weapon when the study door was flung open and a young girl barrelled in and came to a breathless stop at the sight of him. Her blue eyes went worriedly to Michael.

‘Hi, angel.’ Michael stood up, took the couple of steps to his daughter and placed a reassuring arm around her shoulders. ‘This is Jason Locke, a colleague of mine. Jason, this is my daughter, Angelina.’

Angelina looked at the African-American agent with suspicion but politely stuck her hand out. ‘I’m pleased to meet you, Mr Locke.’

Locke took her hand and shook it solemnly. He could see the familial resemblance in the girl’s features especially the eyes. ‘Likewise.’

‘Michael, I’m afraid we need a bigger budget for Christmas presents…’ Marella came to a surprised halt in the doorway. Her expression changed in an instant from one of warm affection to that of an impassive spy. Michael’s lips twitched at the change.

‘Ms Chappelier.’ Locke said wondering how many surprises he could endure in one afternoon as he deduced her presence in Michael’s home was not part of her duties as his aide but of a far more personal nature.

‘Mr Locke.’ Her dark eyes went to Michael questioningly.

‘We were discussing some unofficial business.’ Michael said smoothly. ‘But we’re all done now.’

‘Yes,’ Locke gestured at the door, ‘I should be going.’ He nodded at Angelina and Marella. ‘Thanks for the discussion, Archangel.’

Michael inclined his head in acknowledgement. ‘I’m sure we’ll talk again.’

‘I’ll see myself out.’ Locke said and hurried out of the room.

They all waited until they heard the front door shut before moving; Marella to check he had actually left. She came back swiftly.

‘He’s gone.’ She confirmed.

‘Sorry about that.’ Michael said. ‘I thought we’d be finished by the time you came back.’

‘Well, we are usually longer when we go shopping with Auntie Caitlin,’ Angelina noted, ‘but Nicky got tired and she had to take him home.’ Her face brightened. ‘We could all go to the beach for a picnic.’

‘Sounds good.’ Michael said. ‘Why don’t you head down with Brownie? He’s in the back garden,’ he had put the dog there whilst he’d taken the meeting with Locke, ‘and we’ll follow you?’

She gave him a hug and sped off. Michael watched her with the strange mixture of love and pride that never ceased to amaze him. He sighed and returned his attention to Marella who was looking back at him with amused indulgence.

‘Was Nicky OK?’ Michael asked.

Marella nodded and slid her arms around his neck as his went automatically around her waist. ‘Babies get tired.’ She kissed him. ‘So I take it Locke was here about the Hawkes?’

‘He was.’ Michael answered.

‘Is he going to help us?’

Michael sighed. ‘He’ll help but with one eye on what’s good for the Company.’

‘We used to be the same.’ Marella said.

‘I can’t believe we were ever that pompous.’ Michael commented.

‘I certainly wasn’t.’ Marella agreed with a smile and slipped out of his hold.

His good eye gleamed at her. ‘You’re going to pay for that.’ He said as he followed her to the kitchen to gather the picnic.

‘Promises, promises.’ She called over her shoulder.

—

Hawke stroked the bow across the cello and let the last note drift out onto the early morning sunlight as it touched the waters of the lake. The eagle cried overhead and he looked up to catch the sight of it majestically gliding, it’s wings at full stretch. He got up and stretched a little. He’d been sat out playing for a while. The past few weeks had made for a poignant holiday season; their happiness and joy at having Saint John around and having Nicky’s first Christmas had been mixed with their sadness at Dom’s absence. Hawke sighed. He was due to start working on the new Airwolf project the next day and he was having a few mixed emotions. Part of him wanted to stay and spend the time with his family; part of him wanted the challenge of piloting the new Airwolf helicopter. He stretched again. He’d given his word to Michael so he’d show up at Red Star the next day however much he wanted to stay home.

Hawke stooped to ruffle the fur on Tet’s head before he picked up the camping stool, cello and bow and headed back indoors. Caitlin was curled up on the sofa, her nose buried in a book. Nicky was asleep in the carrier next to her. She glanced up as Hawke came in and stored the musical instrument back on the wall.

‘You finished?’ Caitlin asked.

‘Yeah.’ Hawke sat down beside her and leaned in for a kiss. His head tilted suddenly.

‘Company?’ Caitlin asked.

Hawke nodded and kissed her anyway before they wandered out to the porch and watched the white helicopter descend.

‘I thought Michael was in Washington?’ Caitlin murmured.

‘So did I.’ Hawke admitted.

They exchanged a worried look when Marella climbed out. Their stylish friend had pulled her wiry black hair into a ruthless French plait and was wearing a white flight suit. Although she had long been able to forego the usual all-white uniform of Michael’s aides, they knew she continued as a sign of her loyalty to him.

‘Hawke, Caitlin.’ Marella greeted them with a tight smile accepting quick hugs from each of them.

Hawke frowned, noting the shadows under her eyes that her expertly applied makeup couldn’t hide and the fatigue in the tense set of her shoulders. ‘What’s up?’ He asked bluntly.

Marella looked across at the spectacular view of the lake and took a deep breath. ‘Michael’s missing.’

‘This sounds familiar.’ Hawke sighed as Marella pinned him with a furious stare.

‘Dammit, this isn’t funny Hawke.’

Caitlin laid a comforting hand on Marella’s arm before Hawke could make a reply. ‘Tell us what’s happened.’

‘Michael went to Washington three days ago. He had various meetings arranged with the Company’s financial committee and he was planning to renew some political and intelligence connections. He missed an appointment to report to the Committee yesterday morning. The Company office in Washington did a preliminary check. He hasn’t been seen in over twenty-four hours.’ Marella swallowed hard. ‘The Company’s already written him off.’

‘Are you closed down?’ Hawke asked, remembering the first time Michael had gone missing.

‘No.’ Marella rubbed her hands together trying to get warmth into her fingers. ‘The project is too important. They’ve put me in charge but they’ve told me if I go after Michael, then we’ll both be out of a job.’ She turned to face them. ‘I need you guys to find Michael.’

‘Of course.’ Hawke said dryly. ‘And how exactly would we do that?’

She dived into the briefcase she held and brought out a CD case. ‘All the information I have is on the disc.’

‘Marella…’ Hawke tried to interrupt her as she pushed the case into Caitlin’s hands.

‘It’s compatible with Airwolf’s computer.’ She continued. ‘All you need to do is get Airwolf and go find him.’

‘All?’ Hawke gave a short humourless laugh. ‘Marella, you do realise that we don’t have Airwolf anymore?’

‘You owe Michael.’ Marella stated firmly, her desperate gaze unwavering.

‘Marella,’ Caitlin broke in before Hawke could say anything else, ‘why aren’t the Airwolf team already on this?’

‘The Committee,’ Marella spat the words out, ‘decided it wasn’t a priority mission for them. They said the team are already engaged on another mission and they won’t divert them.’ She looked away from them, back at the lake.

‘So you’re asking us to sneak into the Lair, steal Airwolf – which might not even be there if the team’s on a mission – and find Michael with a trail that will be at least twenty-four hours cold?’ Hawke asked.

‘Yes.’ She stared at him defiantly.

Caitlin sighed at Hawke’s look of exasperation. ‘Marella, we can’t steal Airwolf.’

‘Sure you can.’ Marella looked at Hawke. ‘It won’t be the first time.’

‘Actually it will.’ Caitlin laid a hand on Hawke’s arm before he could react, her eyes flashing angrily at Marella. ‘Hawke told Michael he would only recover Airwolf if the FIRM found his brother. He was within the terms of his agreement by keeping her until the FIRM held to their side of the bargain.’

‘Do you have any idea how far Michael has stuck his neck out for you guys? Is still sticking his neck out for you guys?’ Marella said.

‘Yes.’ Caitlin met Marella’s dark eyes. ‘We really do. We know how much we owe Michael but he didn’t help to save Hawke’s life so he could spend the rest of it in a federal jail for stealing Airwolf.’

‘And it wouldn’t be just me, Marella.’ Hawke added gently. ‘You’re asking us both to do it and we can’t; we have Nicky to consider.’

‘Not to mention the position we’d be placing Saint John and Jo in.’ Caitlin remarked.

‘Or the fact that, if they are on a mission, it’s probably not even there.’ Hawke added.

‘I can’t believe this.’ Marella whirled away. ‘I can’t believe you won’t help.’

‘Marella,’ Hawke rose and grabbed her hand to prevent her leaving. ‘We never said we wouldn’t help.’

‘Just that we can’t steal Airwolf.’ Caitlin said placing an arm around the other woman’s shoulders. ‘Come on inside. I think I have a plan.’

Marella allowed herself to be guided inside. Caitlin sat her down on the sofa in front of the fire and headed into the kitchen to make some tea.

Hawke joined her casting a worried glance at their friend. ‘Do you have a plan?’ He asked keeping his voice low.

‘Maybe.’ Caitlin said setting the kettle to boil and placing all the usual paraphernalia on a tea-tray. She shot a quick look at Marella. ‘I’ve never seen her this…’

‘Panicked?’ Hawke shook his head and folded his arms. ‘This is the first time Michael’s been in serious trouble since they got together.’

Caitlin sighed. ‘Whole different kinda territory, huh.’

‘Yeah.’ Hawke brushed a lock of red hair back behind her ear. His blue eyes drifted back to the agent. ‘I hope she’s going to hold together.’

‘She will.’ Caitlin said pouring the boiling water into the teapot.

Hawke picked up the tea-tray and carried it over to the living area. He poured Marella a cup and handed it to her.

‘You said you had a plan?’ Marella asked as soon as Caitlin settled into an easy chair.

Caitlin nodded and accepted a cup from Hawke. He didn’t pour one for himself but wandered over to the hearth to lean on the mantel.

‘What’s the status of the new Airwolf helicopter?’ Caitlin asked.

Marella frowned. ‘Apart from the armament, she’s completed. We would have begun system and flight tests if…’

‘Your test pilot wasn’t on paternity leave.’ Caitlin said wryly. Her eyes met her husband’s. ‘What do you think?’

‘Wouldn’t be the first time I took an untested helicopter out for a spin but it’s a big risk flying her all the way across the country on her first time out.’ Hawke said lifting a hand. ‘But I don’t see that I have a choice if I’m to get there quickly.’

‘If I’m to get there quickly?’ Marella asked. Her eyes shot to Caitlin’s. ‘You’re not going with him?’

‘Risking me on the maiden flight is one thing, Marella. Risking Cait is entirely different matter.’ Hawke said before Caitlin could reply. ‘I wasn’t joking when I said we had Nicky to think about.’

‘Of course you have to…’ Marella’s breath caught in her throat. ‘I’m sorry I’m just…’

‘Worried about Michael. We understand.’ Caitlin rubbed her back comfortingly. Her blue-green eyes drifted back to Hawke’s. ‘I’m not real happy about you being alone and without back-up though.’

‘Maybe we could use the remote access for the actual flight.’ Marella suggested.

‘Sounds good to me.’ Caitlin said.

Hawke nodded. ‘I’ll be OK once I get to Washington. I spent a lot of time undercover there and I know the place pretty well. Marella, is the old FIRM airfield still in use?’

‘No, but we could use it as a landing site and as somewhere to hide the helicopter.’ Marella said.

Hawke nodded. It was a fair walk to a main road but he figured he could flag down a lift.

‘I’m going to need everything you put on those discs as hard copy.’ Hawke said.

‘I’ll call Red Star now and make the arrangements.’ Marella said rising.

‘I’d better get my stuff together.’ Hawke said.

Caitlin sighed. ‘I’ll get Nicky.’ She and Hawke walked up to their room leaving Marella to make her calls on the satellite phone. It took Hawke no time at all to put a small overnight bag together and he went to help Caitlin gather everything for the baby.

‘Are you sure you want to go to Red Star?’ Hawke asked.

‘I think Marella needs the moral support and besides,’ Caitlin said stuffing a soft toy into the already overflowing bag, ‘if we can get the remote access working, at least I can back you up on the flight.’

He caught hold of her and hugged her. ‘I’ll be fine. I worked as a lone operative for a long time before we met.’

‘I know.’ Caitlin kissed him. ‘It won’t stop me worrying.’

‘To be honest with the way Marella is,’ Hawke said as he picked up the bags, ‘I think I have the easier assignment trying to find Michael.’

Caitlin smiled ruefully. ‘Thanks a lot.’

They all headed for Red Star, the complex which housed the Airwolf project. The buildings had been rebuilt after Moffett, Airwolf’s original designer, had destroyed the flight centre when he’d stolen the original machine. The main building still gleamed with a bright freshness and there was still the smell of newness that hadn’t quite been removed by the hustle and bustle of activity.

Marella made her way to the control room. Karen Hansen, Airwolf’s lead computer programmer greeted them absently before her eyes alighted on the baby carrier Caitlin held. ‘Is that the baby?’ She shoved her chair back, causing Hawke to take a stumbling step sideways.

Karen leaned over and cooed at the small child, her dark red bob swinging around her pale cheeks. ‘He’s so cute.’

‘Yeah, takes after his father.’ Caitlin commented with maternal pride.

‘Karen, is everything prepared?’ Marella asked sharply.

‘Everything.’ Karen confirmed. She patted Marella’s hand as though in understanding before she turned her attention to Hawke. ‘Ready to fly, Hawke?’

‘Is he ready to fly?’ Caitlin repeated smiling. ‘Is the sky blue?’

Karen grinned at her. ‘I’ve set up this console for you. There’s a direct link to the engineer’s console in the new machine. To all extents and purposes it’ll be like you’re in the helicopter.’

‘Great.’ Caitlin said.

Hawke reached over and ran a hand over his son’s wispy hair. Nicky turned at the touch and a light of recognition lit the baby’s blue eyes. ‘I’d better go.’ He said and leaned over further to drop a kiss on his son’s head and another on Caitlin’s lips.

‘I love you.’ She said. ‘Be safe.’

‘I love you too.’ Hawke kissed her again. ‘Wish me luck.’

‘Good luck.’ Caitlin called after him as Karen escorted Hawke out of the room. They headed over to the hangar with Karen briefing him about the latest changes in design. She left him to make the final preparations and Hawke acknowledged a few of the mechanics on his way to the changing rooms. He almost smiled at the air of excitement that surged through the place; the unconcealed air of anticipation. There was probably going to be quite a crowd when he took her up.

Hawke drew out the uniform from the locker and grimaced. He’d never understood why the outfits had to be lilac. He pulled on the suit and zipped it up. It was a new material that fitted snugly to his body but it was surprisingly comfortable. He strapped on the boots and shut the locker door. Hawke caught sight of his appearance in a mirror on the wall opposite and fingered the carefully stitched name over his left breast pocket before he spun on his heel and walked back out to the hangar.

‘She ready?’ He asked Karen and the lead mechanic, Frankie Hernandez.

Frankie nodded, his dark eyes smiling at Hawke. ‘Just take it easy.’

‘Always do.’

‘Right.’ Frankie drawled with clear disbelief.

‘Caitlin’s confirmed that she’s linked up in the control room. She’ll be monitoring the systems from there. The Lady herself also seems to have graced you with her presence. Oh, and we took the liberty of stowing your bag.’ Karen said and handed him a helmet.

Hawke took it with a sigh. ‘You guys couldn’t improve on this?’ He asked waving the heavy object at them.

‘Good luck.’ Frankie said and patted his shoulder. He ran outside to join the gathering crowd who were waiting to watch the test flight.

Karen smiled. ‘Don’t break her.’ She said before she followed after Frankie.

Hawke took a moment to admire the new helicopter. Same basic design although the nose was a little sharper, the wings a little more set back. She had the same shining black armour and white underbelly as the original machine and the same aura; she was meant for the sky. Hawke opened the cockpit door and slid into the commander’s seat. He did his usual pre-flight check before he closed the door and settled into position. He adjusted the helmet until it sat more comfortably.

‘Here we go.’ He took a breath, ignored the pounding of his heart. He tapped the buttons to start the engines and bring her other systems online. He could barely hear the thud of her rotors gaining momentum or the roar has her engines fired in the quiet bubble of the cockpit but he felt the tremors through her frame, the hum underneath his feet. The screen in front of him lit up with a display of all systems status.

Systems ready.

Hawke smiled at the text when it scrolled over the screen. It looked like Airwolf was keen and eager to get going. He punched a few buttons to connect the radio through to control.

‘Airwolf to control tower, requesting permission to taxi to helipad.’

‘Permission granted.’

Hawke smiled at the nervous tone of the responding air traffic controller. He grasped the stick and eased Airwolf forward. She moved smoothly out of the hangar and emerged into the morning sunshine. Hawke blinked at the sudden brightness and slowed until his eyes adjusted. He ignored the crowd around the hangar, and concentrated on getting her to the wide open space of the helipad.

‘Cait?’ Hawke asked as he took up position. ‘Are you with us?’

‘I’m with you. You’re looking good.’ Her calm tone with its tinge of wonder settled the nerves pulling and pushing in his guts and he felt the tension drain out of his shoulders.

‘Have we got a flight plan?’ He asked.

‘Heading on your screen now.’ Caitlin confirmed.

‘Airwolf to control, requesting permission to depart.’

‘Permission granted.’

Hawke took another quick look around, did another fast check of the primary system status on his monitor. He grasped the cyclic and raised the aircraft a mere foot off the ground. The landing gear retracted automatically. He took her up another foot.

‘Nice and steady.’ Hawke said softly. ‘Nice and steady.’ The slow ascension gave him the opportunity to test her balance, check the responsiveness in the flight controls, how much he needed to push, how much he needed to pull.

He rotated her until she faced the heading he’d been given and eased the stick forward, accelerating gradually to her top speed without turbos. He felt the rush of exhilaration when he climbed with her and brought her to a hover above the layer of white, fluffy clouds, blue skies above them. He sighed in contentment and felt it; that deep, soulful click between man and machine.

‘How are we looking, Cait?’

‘So far so good.’ Caitlin’s voice confirmed happily. ‘How she feel?’

‘Balance is good. The flight controls are responsive.’ Hawke took Airwolf back down. ‘I’m going to open her up; see how she copes with some speed. Hawke out.’

Hawke was as good as his word. With a wicked smile he flicked the button on the side of the stick that would ignite the turbos and they shot forward. He felt the push of the g-force pressing him back into his seat as terrain disappeared underneath them.

‘Mach 1.’ Caitlin noted.

Hawke felt the stall before it registered.

‘Disengaging turbos. Re-engaging rotors.’ He stated as he glided the machine until he got control back.

‘What happened?’ He asked Caitlin.

‘Fluctuation in the power to the turbine system. Airwolf attempted to compensate but was using her old turbine system as the baseline so she overcompensated causing an automatic shut-down.’ Caitlin explained.

Failed. He almost jumped at the text on the monitor.

‘Uh, Hawke?’ Caitlin’s stunned voice told him she’d seen it too.

‘I see it.’ Hawke said. ‘Airwolf, establish a new baseline for the turbine system.’

Request confirmed. New baseline being established.

‘I’ve reset the system, Hawke.’ Caitlin said. ‘You should be OK for turbos. Now.’

Hawke hit the button. ‘OK. Let’s try this again.’ Airwolf shot forward. The landscape slipped by beneath them.

‘Mach 1.’ Caitlin noted again.

He adjusted the balance, angled her nose more and accelerated again.

‘Mach 1.5.’ Caitlin said calmly. The original machine had been capable of almost mach 2 when pushed to her limits and this new helicopter seemed to be holding up fine.

‘Mach 2.’ Caitlin confirmed.

Hawke grinned. He was going mach 2 in a helicopter. He sobered. He was doing mach 2 in this helicopter for a reason. ‘I’m going to hold her here for as long as possible.’ He radioed back.

‘Roger that, Airwolf.’

Hawke settled back and focused on his heading. Don’t worry, Michael, he thought determinedly, we’re on our way.

—

Caitlin knocked briefly on the office door before she entered. She smiled at the sight of Marella with Nicky in her arms showing him the harsh landscape of Devil’s Anvil through the large picture windows.

Marella looked across at her. ‘Is…’

‘Hawke’s arrived in Washington. Safe and sound.’ Caitlin confirmed. She rubbed the back of her neck tiredly. The flight to Washington had gone remarkably smoothly; three more stalls but Airwolf was learning and learning fast. She figured it helped that the artificial intelligence was capable of rewriting her programming as she went along.

‘Thank God.’ Marella sighed and placed Nicky back down in his carrier that was perched on the sofa in the seating area of her office. Her hands smoothed the baby blanket over his waving limbs.

‘He woke up, huh?’ Caitlin said crossing to stand next to her. She smiled down at the blue eyes staring up at her.

Marella moved back a little to allow Caitlin to fuss over the child. She felt a wave of envy and turned abruptly on her heel. She headed for the drinks cabinet and poured a large measure of gin.

Caitlin frowned at her. ‘Are you OK?’

Marella stared at the alcohol; she didn’t really want it. She put the heavy crystal glass down. ‘Not really.’ She wrapped her arms around herself. ‘How do you do it?’

‘Do what?’ Caitlin asked.

‘Cope with the possibility that Hawke might not make it.’

‘Oh, that.’ Caitlin sighed and looked back down at the baby, at the eyes that were so like his father’s. ‘It’s hard.’ She admitted. ‘But Hawke’s not the type to sit quietly on the sidelines. It’s not in his nature and if I want to be with him…’ she shrugged, ‘I’ve accepted that there will be the odd time I go out of my mind with worry. What makes it a little easier is knowing we’re in it together. He feels the same way about me.’

Marella slumped into one of the chairs. ‘I thought I would be better at coping than this.’ She ran her hands through her hair. ‘I feel like a mess.’ She flushed. ‘I mean look at my behaviour with you guys.’

Caitlin sat down opposite her. ‘There is no right way to act, Marella, you just do the best you can and as for this morning, forget about it. We all have our moments.’

‘I don’t.’ Marella said forcefully. ‘I don’t usually go to pieces like this.’

‘The man you love is missing.’ Caitlin stated quietly. ‘Give yourself a break.’

‘Maybe it was a mistake, Michael and I getting involved.’ Marella mused out loud.

Caitlin’s eyebrows shot up. ‘Do you really believe that?’

Marella sighed and rubbed her face. ‘No.’ She admitted. ‘I’d rather be with him than not.’ She sat up. ‘I think I’m just going so crazy because I’m stuck here. The Company made it pretty clear what the repercussions would be if I went after him and Michael’s worked so hard for this project. If he lost it on top of the division…’

‘You’re doing the right thing.’ Caitlin said.

‘I know but I can’t help thinking that I wish I was with Hawke in Washington.’

‘I know how you feel.’ Caitlin said. ‘I hate that Hawke’s on his own in Washington too. If Dom were alive…’ she sighed. ‘It’s a shame the Airwolf team are on a mission otherwise I’m pretty sure Saint John would have backed him up.’

‘Really?’ Marella asked. ‘I get the impression your brother-in-law isn’t exactly Michael’s biggest fan.’

‘Neither was Dom at first.’ Caitlin pointed out. ‘Saint John and Michael just need to get to know each other more and whatever the mission, I’m sure Saint John would back up his brother regardless.’

Marella considered it for a long moment. ‘You know I went through the official channels to request the Airwolf team search for Michael…’

‘The official channels?’ Caitlin’s eyes sparked with sudden calculation. ‘Then…’

‘If you were to contact the team directly…?’ Marella raised a questioning eyebrow.

Caitlin moved to the satellite phone on Marella’s desk and punched in the numbers for the Lair; if they really were on a mission they’d mostly likely be there. The phone rang without reply. Caitlin disconnected and dialled another number; Santini Air.

‘Santini Air.’ Jo’s crisp answer had Caitlin smiling.

‘Jo?’

‘Caitlin? Hi. How are you?’ Jo asked, her voice ringing with pleasure at hearing from the other woman.

‘Actually a little frazzled.’ Caitlin said. ‘Look, I know you guys are on a mission…’

‘We’re not on a mission.’

‘You’re not?’ Caitlin shook her head at the confirmation; obviously the Company had lied about that. ‘Well, that’s good news. I kinda got the impression that you…well, never mind, would you mind watching Nicky for me?’ She wondered if she’d overacted a little too much.

‘I’d love to…look, Caitlin is something wrong? You sound a little upset.’ Jo said.

‘Well, actually…’

‘Caitlin? It’s Saint John. What’s wrong?’

Caitlin sighed in relief. Saint John must have snagged the phone as soon as Jo had said she sounded upset. ‘Hi, Saint John. I’m fine really. It’s just…Hawke’s gone to Washington to find Michael and I just need someone to watch the baby whilst I go and join him. I don’t like the idea of him being there alone without back up especially if someone’s snatched Michael.’ Come on, Saint John, she thought; take the bait.

‘Hold on a minute, Caitlin. Start at the beginning.’

‘Michael’s missing, Saint John. He was last seen the day before last.’ Caitlin said. ‘The Company refused to search for him so Hawke headed to Washington to find him.’

‘On his own?’ Saint John’s anger roughened his voice.

‘The Company said you guys were on a mission.’ Caitlin said blithely.

‘Did they?’ Saint John muttered. ‘Look, you stay with Nicky. Jo and I will take Airwolf and go help String.’

Caitlin breathed a sigh of relief. ‘Thanks, Saint John. I’ll transmit the details straight to Airwolf’s computer including where you can reach me.’

‘We’ll be in touch.’ Saint John said. He hung up.

Caitlin put the receiver down and smiled at Marella. ‘He’s on his way.’

‘That was nicely done.’ Marella said admiringly. ‘You sure you haven’t trained as a spy?’

‘No it’s just all natural sneakiness.’ Caitlin said with a smile.

—

Hawke towelled his face dry and examined his clean shaven face in the mirror of the hotel bathroom. He had quickly caught a lift in a truck on the road outside the old airfield. It had taken him to the outskirts of town; a cab had brought him into the political capitol itself and he’d found a cheap hotel to use for a change of clothes; jeans and a leather flying jacket just wouldn’t cut it with the Washington elite.

He rubbed a hand over the smooth skin of his jaw and decided it would do. He headed into the bedroom and pulled on the shirt he’d packed, fastened the tie and shucked on the brown suit jacket. He checked his appearance. He was a little crumpled but he would do. He picked up the sheet of paper that detailed Michael’s itinerary for his Washington trip and grimaced. The schedule was certainly packed; budget meetings, Senate Committee hearings, a couple of evening receptions, lunches…where the hell did he start? He was thinking the best place would be at Michael’s hotel when a meeting half-way down the page caught his eye. Michael had met for lunch with Robert Delaney on the day he went missing.

Bob Delaney, mused Hawke. The man was a retired NSA agent and Hawke had worked with him once as an operative and again when the agent had helped the Airwolf team stop a power hungry general getting his hands on the helicopter. Delaney was a good man and a good agent. He knew the politics in Washington inside out; if anyone could help Hawke find Michael, it was Delaney. Hawke snatched up the phone and dialled Red Star. He was quickly put through to Caitlin and Marella.

‘I’m about to start the search and I thought I’d just check in.’ Hawke said.

‘I’m pleased you did.’ Caitlin said. ‘We’ve got some news.’

‘Oh?’

‘Saint John and Jo are on their way in Airwolf to give you some back-up.’

Hawke’s eyebrow quirked upwards and he rubbed his chin. ‘I thought they were on a mission?’

‘Apparently the Company was mistaken.’

He smiled at the anger in his wife’s voice. ‘You decided to call them on it, huh?’

‘Kinda.’ Caitlin admitted. ‘At least, you won’t have to go after Michael alone.’

‘Hopefully, I’ll have found out where to find Michael by the time they get here.’ Hawke said. ‘Marella, do you have an address for Bob Delaney?’

‘Are you thinking about talking with Delaney first?’ Caitlin asked before Marella could answer.

‘He might be the one person here who would be willing to point me in the right direction.’ Hawke said. ‘I’m betting someone here in town knows what happened to Michael and the only person I know who has better connections than Bob is Michael.’

‘You’re probably right.’ Marella said. She reeled off an address and he scribbled it on the telephone pad supplied by the hotel.

‘Watch your back.’ Caitlin said worriedly.

Hawke sighed. ‘I’ll call in again when I’ve got some news. Bye.’

‘Bye.’

He dropped the receiver back into the cradle, tore off the address and after retrieving his wallet and sunglasses from his leather jacket he headed out to the bustle of the Washington streets to flag down a cab. He was soon at the apartment building. The entrance way was ornate; polished marble competed with gilt mirrors and striking art. Hawke ignored the opulence as he strode to the security desk.

‘Can I help you, sir?’ The young security guard asked nervously.

Hawke took off his sunglasses. ‘I’m here to see Mr Delaney.’

‘Are you Captain Hawke?’ The security guard asked checking his list for the day.

It wasn’t often Hawke was surprised and he barely managed a nod to confirm he was.

‘If I could see some identification, sir?’

Hawke handed over his wallet.

‘That’s fine, sir. Mr Delaney is expecting you. If you take the elevator to the sixth floor, you’ll find apartment twelve on your left hand side.’

‘Thanks.’ Hawke put his wallet back in his inside pocket and got into the elevator as instructed. Damn, but Bob was good. He got out at the sixth floor and rapped on the door to apartment twelve.

Delaney answered the summons. A slim man of sixty with a tanned, lined face and dark hair still trimmed to an army regulation length. His dark eyes smiled back at Hawke. ‘It’s good to see you.’

‘Good to see you too.’ Hawke replied shaking the other man’s proffered hand.

‘Let’s take a walk.’ Delaney said.

They made their way back out of the building to a park down the street. Delaney bought them coffee from a little cart vendor and they sat down on a bench overlooking a stretch of perfectly manicured lawn.

Hawke sipped on his drink and reviewed Delaney with curiosity. ‘How did you know I’d come?’

‘You’ll have to forgive him but Michael let me on the secret that rumours of your death were greatly exaggerated.’ His eyes scanned the park for any eavesdroppers. ‘I knew as soon as I heard Michael was missing that you’d come into town to find him and I figured as my lunch with him was on his official schedule, you’d come by to see me.’

‘Can you help me find him?’ Hawke asked.

He surprised Delaney into looking at him. ‘You’re not curious about why Michael and I were meeting?’

Hawke shrugged. ‘Does it have anything to do with why he’s missing?’

‘No.’

‘Then, no.’ Hawke replied.

‘You always were focused.’ Delaney said. ‘I’ve managed to track down who and where.’ He reached into his own jacket pocket and extracted an envelope. He set it down on the bench. ‘All the information I’ve got is in there.’

Hawke picked it up and leafed through the contents. He stopped at a photo of a man about Michael’s age with blond hair and blue eyes leaving an embassy building. ‘This the guy who’s got him?’

‘Yes. Robin Terrence. He’s ex-MI6.’

‘British Intelligence?’ Hawke said. ‘I thought we were supposed to be on the same side.’

‘Not with this guy.’ Delaney frowned. ‘He was very good even if he did stomp all over other agents to get results. He got captured by the Chinese a few years back and although he escaped by some miracle, he became unstable. MI6 cut him loose. Since then he’s set up his own security firm and has even been doing some freelance work; not always for allies of the British. There are rumours the British tried to terminate him last year and failed.’

‘Nice.’ Hawke muttered. ‘What’s he want with Michael?’

‘If I had to guess I’d say it was personal.’ Delaney said. ‘Michael and I attended the same reception the night he arrived in Washington. Terrence was there. When they laid eyes on each other…if looks could kill both of them would be dead on the floor.’

‘Did they speak with each other?’ Hawke asked.

‘Not as far as I’m aware but I wasn’t keeping track of Michael all night.’

‘This building?’ Hawke gestured at a second photo.

‘An old sanatorium on the outskirts of Washington.’ Delaney said. ‘It’s part of his firm’s holdings. I’m betting if Michael is anywhere it’s there.’

‘Do you have confirmation on any of this?’

‘I haven’t been able to check on the sanatorium, I didn’t want to tip off Terrence. But I have linked Michael’s aide, Tricia Marley, here in Washington with a series of phone calls to Terrence’s firm within the last few months and a significant sum of money deposited into her account at the start of this week.’ Delaney noted. ‘I think Marley betrayed Michael to Terrence.’

‘So he’s been planning to snatch him for some time?’ Hawke mused.

‘It looks like it.’ Delaney noted unhappily. ‘His timing is probably based on the fact that Michael’s no longer protected by his position at the FIRM. I think Terrence figured the Company was more likely just to write Michael off.’

‘He was right.’ Hawke said with a bite of anger.

‘Then there’s you and Airwolf, of course.’

Hawke raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

‘Whilst you had Airwolf, Terrence probably also had to consider you would come after Michael. You and that machine have a legendary status in the corridors of power; even Terrence might have decided it was too risky to take you on.’ Delaney took a sip of his coffee. ‘But now, Airwolf is ostensibly with the Company and you…you’re supposed to be dead.’

‘Well he’s going to get a surprise on both fronts then.’ Hawke muttered.

‘You have Airwolf?’ Delaney said shocked.

‘My brother’s on his way with her.’ Hawke replied absently.

‘I didn’t think the Company…’

Hawke smiled without humour. ‘Who said anything about the Company?’

Delaney gave a nod of understanding. ‘Terrence has made a big show of being visible the last couple of days since Michael was snatched.’

‘Establishing alibi.’ Hawke deduced.

‘That would be my guess.’ Delaney sighed. ‘He’s probably got a small team at the sanatorium with Michael and I think he’ll have kept him alive until he could face him personally.’

‘But Michael’s running out of time.’ Hawke concluded. ‘Terrence is probably figuring if he’s gone almost forty-eight hours without being questioned or any kind of rescue attempt that he’s safe to make his move. I should get going.’

‘Hawke,’ Delaney said rising as Hawke got up, ‘good luck.’

‘Thanks for all your help.’

‘Just bring him back alive, Hawke.’

Hawke replaced his sunglasses. ‘I’ll do my best.’

Delaney smiled. ‘That’s good enough for me.’

—

Michael landed in a heap on the floor of the padded room and heard the loud slam of the door being closed followed by the snick of the lock being thrown. He rolled over onto his back and winced. He breathed deeply to get past the pain and slowly shuffled into a sitting position with his back against the far wall grateful that it was in fact padded and not made of hard brick. His one good eye looked at his surroundings. Everything was a little blurred without his glasses. He raised a cautious hand to his bad eye and checked the eye patch was still in place. He gave a sigh of relief before his hand move to his right temple and came away bloody.

Head injury, possible skull fracture and concussion.

He didn’t even remember how it had happened. Hell, he thought tiredly, the hours since his capture had all merged into one long mess of being beaten, interrogated and beaten. The last thing he remembered clearly was the sight of his aide, Tricia, being shot by her conspirators. He eased his bruised body into a less painful position and sighed. He made a determined analysis of his own injuries. Nothing was broken as far as he could tell, just bruised. That was good. They had bizarrely gone easy on his legs, his weakest point. It wasn’t information they were after, he mused. The questions had been routine but not directed at something specific. Someone wanted him personally, Michael realised, and since he was still alive there was good bet that meant whoever it was wanted to face Michael themselves before…before they what? Killed him? It was the most likely possibility.

Michael made a brief review of the room. It was empty and white. He almost laughed at the irony. He was going to die in an all white cell with padded walls. Maybe he should rethink the whole white thing, he thought tiredly. His codename, Archangel, had less meaning with the disbanding of his division. He rubbed his ribs and coughed a little. He missed having a division more than he would admit to anyone. The Airwolf project was his baby and he loved it, but it wasn’t the cut and thrust of international politics and espionage.

He wondered how much time had passed. He figured it was over a day, maybe more since he’d been snatched. He had passed out on a couple of occasions and he had no idea how long for. It was likely that the Company had written him off. They had even less reason to affect a rescue than the FIRM had the last time he’d gone missing. Maybe Hawke…he sighed. Hawke didn’t have Airwolf anymore. Even if the other man made it to Washington through ordinary means of transport it would be another twenty-four hours before he could realistically start to search and the trail would be cold by then. Hawke might find him but it would probably be too late.

Angelina.

His heart ached and for a moment he rubbed his chest as though he could physically reach it before he realised with a start that the ache was emotional. He loved his golden-haired daughter more fiercely than he had ever imagined. She was so bright and loving. Remarkably well adjusted given all she had been through. He had wanted to see her graduate high school, and college. She would be a stunning woman and although he couldn’t fathom letting her date and go out with boys, he could already see how beautiful she would look on her wedding day. He blinked the tears out of his eye.

Weddings, he thought tiredly. He had been thinking about asking Marella to marry him. He hoped she was OK. They had talked about the likelihood of one of them dying when they had all thought Caitlin was dead for a brief time, when Hawke had lain seriously injured. Both times it had prompted a frank discussion between Michael and Marella about their own mortality. They had both been in the business a long time, both had suffered brushes with death and both knew it was more than likely that one of them would die in the line of duty. They had both accepted the risk but a rational discussion when they were both safe and well was one thing, Michael mused, the reality would be another.

Still, he thought, if he had to die he knew Hawke and Caitlin would be there to support Marella and get her through her grief, that they would take care of his daughter, become loving parents to her in the same way they were with their own child. He couldn’t ask for better friends. More than friends, Michael acknowledged, more like family. He wondered if Hawke would be shocked to know Michael considered the younger man as a brother, how he slightly resented Saint John for returning.

His eye closed. Maybe he should sleep, conserve his strength for what was to come. Yes, he thought tiredly, if he had to die, he was content; Angelina and Marella would be safe. Hawke wouldn’t fail him; he could always count on the pilot.

‘You see that’s the problem with you spies. You give up too easy.’

Michael’s eye snapped open at the gruff voice and his head turned sharply to stare at the far corner of the room.

Dominic Santini grinned back at him. ‘Hello Michael.’

—

Saint John adjusted the course and rolled his shoulders.

‘Want me to take over?’ Mike Rivers offered. His hands were itching to take over the stick.

‘I’m good.’ Saint John said. ‘How’re the systems looking back there, Jo?’

‘Everything’s in the green.’ Jo sighed. ‘I don’t know half of what Hawke and Caitlin did before you all went to Russia after Moffett but she’s been acting great since.’

‘Maybe we should ask them to come in and do a regular service.’ Mike suggested with a smile.

‘Might not be a bad idea.’ Jo said. ‘Although I’d prefer it if they just showed us what they did.’ Her fingers tapped the console. ‘I think I might discuss it with Caitlin.’

Mike’s green eyes glanced back across the cockpit at Saint John’s stern profile and sighed. ‘Jason will get over it, Saint John.’

The older pilot didn’t reply although he heard Mike’s words. He knew Mike was worried about the exchange of harsh words that had taken place over his taking Airwolf to back up his brother…

‘Where are you going?’

Saint John turned at the sound of Locke’s voice. The other agent walked further into the Lair with Mike at his side.

Mike frowned at the sight of Saint John and Jo all kitted out in the lilac Airwolf uniforms. ‘What’s going on guys?’

Jo looked at Saint John. The tall pilot brushed a hand through his light brown hair and met Locke’s dark gaze firmly with his own hazel eyes. ‘We’re heading to Washington.’

‘What for?’ Locke asked confused. ‘We’re on standby.’

‘Did you hear Archangel went missing?’ Saint John asked.

‘I heard.’ Locke admitted.

‘My brother’s gone to Washington to look for him.’ Saint John said. ‘I’m going to give him some back-up.’

‘Saint John, I received orders for us to stay well away from it. The Company thinks it could be an attempt to take Airwolf.’ Locke said.

Saint John shook his head. ‘I’m going.’

‘No you’re not.’ Locke’s eyes flashed and he stabbed a finger at Airwolf. ‘This helicopter is for official use only.’

Saint John gestured angrily. ‘My brother could be walking into trap without any back-up and that’s what you’ve got to say?’

‘This isn’t about your brother.’ Locke retorted.

‘Like hell it isn’t.’ Saint John took an angry step towards Locke and both Jo and Mike reacted.

Jo reached out and snagged Saint John’s arm as Mike placed himself between the two men.

‘Hey come on guys.’ Mike held up his hands. ‘Why don’t we just talk about this?’

Saint John sighed and he looked Mike regretfully. ‘There’s nothing to talk about, Mike. I’m going.’

‘You take Airwolf and you’re off the team.’ Locke said furiously.

‘Jason…’

‘I’m sorry, Mike, but the fact is that Airwolf isn’t ours. She belongs to the Company.’ Locke scowled. ‘The sooner everyone realises that the better.’

‘Jason,’ Jo pleaded, ‘we have to go. String could be in trouble.’ Her anxious blue eyes met Mike’s beseechingly.

‘Jason,’ Mike whirled around to face his friend, ‘look, I understand where you’re coming from, I do but if Hawke is walking into a trap then isn’t it more dangerous to have someone with his understanding of Airwolf fall into enemy hands? Even more so than risking Airwolf to give him some back-up?’

Locke’s jaw worked furiously. ‘Fine.’ He said to Saint John. ‘But Mike goes too and I want regular updates.’

‘Thanks, Jason.’ Jo said as Mike hurried off to change.

Locke glanced at Saint John who gave a sharp nod of acknowledgement and turned to get in Airwolf.

Saint John sighed deeply. ‘The thing is, Mike, I’m not sure I’m going to get over it. I mean Jason knew what was happening and didn’t tell us.’

‘Jason only knew Archangel was missing, Saint John, he had no way of knowing your brother had gone after him.’

Saint John grunted.

Mike sighed. He could see both sides but he was more inclined to side with Saint John; the Company could be a little too quick to decide that saving someone’s life wasn’t worth the risk. Both he and Saint John had military backgrounds where it was ingrained that people weren’t left behind if it was humanly possible to save them. He frowned. He knew Saint John’s motivations were primarily about backing up his brother but he guessed it was probably one time that the pilot could actually sympathise with Archangel; the Company had written off Saint John once in the same way, had left him without any hope of rescue and with his brother as his only hope.

The beep of an incoming communication broke the silence in the cockpit and Mike answered the summons grateful for the interruption.

He smiled as the video screen filled with the cute face of Caitlin Hawke with the lovely Marella standing over her shoulder. ‘Caitlin. Marella. It’s great to see you both.’

‘You too, Mike.’ Caitlin smiled. ‘I’m going to patch in Hawke on audio.’ She gave a nod to someone off screen. ‘Hawke, you with us?’

‘I’m here.’ Hawke said gruffly.

‘Hey, String.’ Saint John breathed out deeply. ‘What’s the latest?’

‘I’ve got a location and a possible perpetrator.’ Hawke said bluntly.

‘That was quick.’ Jo commented.

‘I got lucky.’ Hawke said. ‘Delaney helped me out. Marella, what do you know about a Robin Terrence?’

Marella blinked. ‘Ex-MI6. Runs a security firm in Washington DC. He and Michael have some history.’

‘What exactly?’ Hawke asked.

‘Long story. From what I understand, they crossed swords a lot when Michael was a field agent back in the Seventies. But there was an incident back in the early Eighties, Terrence had a reputation for not worrying about giving up other agents if it suited his purposes and we lost an operative on a mission in China. Michael was convinced Terrence was responsible.’

‘Which is a good reason for Michael to be pissed at Terrence but not the other way around.’ Hawke said. ‘What aren’t you telling me?’

Marella sighed. ‘It’s possible that Terrence thinks Michael was responsible for him getting captured in China a few years ago.’

‘Was he?’ Saint John asked.

‘I don’t know,’ Marella’s dark eyes flashed across the video link at the pilot, ‘but it’s not Michael’s usual style.’

‘No,’ Hawke agreed dryly. Michael usually liked his revenge a little more subtle and a little more final than that.

‘You think Terrence has got him.’ Caitlin stated.

‘I think so.’ Hawke said. ‘Terrence’s firm owns a sanatorium.’ He gave them the address. ‘I’m going to head there now and do a standard recon. What’s your ETA, Airwolf?’

‘Forty minutes.’ Saint John said.

‘I’ll find someway to call you in thirty to verify the location.’ Hawke said. ‘You can come in and provide cover fire whilst I go in and get Michael.’

‘Mike can provide cover fire. I can help you on the ground.’ Saint John said.

‘Negative.’ Hawke said.

‘You don’t know how many men you’ll be up against on the ground, String.’ Saint John insisted.

‘OK.’ Hawke gave in. ‘There are two entrances. Meet me at the East one.’

‘I’ll be there.’

‘Sounds like we have a plan.’ Caitlin said.

‘Let’s hope it works.’ Hawke replied. ‘I have to get moving.’

‘Good luck.’ Marella said. Her eyes glanced back to the Airwolf crew. ‘To you all.’

—

Michael stared at the image of the older man for a long moment. It looked like Dom; same wispy grey hair, dark eyes and wide, gap-toothed smile. The same shiny blue Santini jacket and red baseball cap. Only it couldn’t be the pilot; Dom was dead.

‘It’s me.’ Dom smiled encouragingly. ‘It’s really me.’

‘Am I dead?’ Michael demanded.

‘Why would you think that?’ Dom asked puzzled.

‘You’re dead.’

Dom’s bushy eyebrows rose. ‘Ah. Well. Yes.’ He wagged a finger at Michael. ‘But you’re not.’

‘Well, if I’m not dead…’ he sent another questioning glance across the padded room.

‘You’re not.’ Dom confirmed again.

‘Then either you’ve come back to haunt me or I’m losing my mind.’ Michael deduced. He rested his head against the padded walls and closed his eye again. ‘All things considered I think I’d prefer it to be the latter.’ A hallucination that’s probably what this was; he had a head injury after all. Yes, he concluded, a hallucination.

‘You’re not losing your mind and I’m not exactly haunting you.’ Dom said with exasperation. ‘Although, given that you went and told Hawke about his parents, I am considering it.’

Michael’s eye snapped open. ‘He worked it out.’ He said defensively. ‘They both did.’

‘I know.’ Dom sighed ruefully. ‘I guess I should have realised they probably would.’ He smiled proudly. ‘They’re smart boys.’

‘Hawke wants to take out the Cordelli’s.’ Michael commented.

‘He’s come up with crazier plans.’ Dom said.

‘When?’ Michael asked.

Dom opened his mouth to reply, seemed to think about it and closed it again. ‘Hmnph.’ He grimaced. ‘Maybe you’re right. But he’s got his brother with him. Nothing very much the two of them couldn’t accomplish together.’

Michael felt the glimmer of jealousy at Dom’s words and grimaced.

‘You know he thinks of you like a brother too.’

His eye shot back to Dom. ‘I didn’t…I’m not…’

‘Jealous? Sure you are.’ Dom said cheerfully. ‘I mean I didn’t see it when I was alive but now? Well, it’s kinda obvious that you took on the role of being a brother to Hawke a while ago. I don’t know how I missed it.’ He shook his head a little in disbelief. ‘Anyway, he thinks the same way about you as you do about him. He feels that you’re like another brother to him, an annoying one at times but a brother nonetheless.’

‘He’s never said anything.’ Michael murmured.

‘Well, neither have you.’ Dom pointed out. ‘And maybe saying something now isn’t exactly the best time.’

Michael raised an eyebrow. ‘Given my current situation, saying anything at all is highly unlikely.’

‘Ah, you’ll get out of this,’ Dom waved a large hand dismissively, ‘no I was thinking more about the fact that you and String admitting you’re like brothers right now is only likely to make Saint John more jealous about your relationship than he already is.’

‘Saint John’s jealous of my relationship with Hawke?’ Michael questioned surprised.

‘Of course he is.’ Dom said patiently as though talking to a child. ‘He looks at how easy your relationship with String is and he’s jealous.’

‘I thought he just didn’t like me.’ Michael said.

‘Well there is that.’ Dom sighed. ‘You know the enigmatic spy act doesn’t exactly make a great first impression, Michael.’

‘But Hawke’s his brother.’ Michael said a little confused. ‘I mean he only has to think about everything Hawke did to search for him to know how his brother feels about him.’

‘Yes, well, there’s a lot of healing that needs to happen yet.’ Dom said.

Michael frowned. He hadn’t considered that the brothers might be having difficulties re-establishing their relationship. He’d just heard so much over the years about how close the brothers were and what a bond they had, that it had never occurred to him. His tired mind slipped back to just before Christmas when Hawke had asked him not to visit over the weekend his brother was there saying he wanted some quality time with Saint John. Michael had pretended it was fine but deep down he’d been hurt at the request to stay away. He re-examined the request in light of the new information and sighed. ‘Why hasn’t he said anything?’

Dom laughed. ‘Hey this is String we’re talking about.’ He gestured at Michael. ‘You know how he is. The only reason I’m telling you any of this is because he won’t.’ He sighed heavily. ‘Cait’s doing the best she can to ease things between them but they need help.’

‘Dominic, Saint John doesn’t like me. I don’t see how I can help.’ Michael muttered.

‘You’ll think of something, Michael.’ Dom smiled. ‘I know you will. Besides I want you to promise me you’ll think of something.’

Michael stared at the man’s dark and serious eyes. He guessed he could now count on two fingers the number of times Dominic Santini had asked him for something.

‘I promise.’

Dom nodded with satisfaction.

Michael sighed and shifted to ease an ache in his side.

‘Hurts, huh?’ Dom noted.

Michael shot him a look. He gestured weakly. ‘Dominic, what you said before about my getting out of this…was that a guarantee?’

The older man’s eyes dimmed. ‘You’re going to have to hold on for a little while, Michael.’

‘Hold on? What kind of answer is that?’

‘What do you think?’ Dom rejoined smartly.

‘Hawke’s on his way, isn’t he?’ Michael said tiredly.

Dom nodded. ‘He’s on his way.’

‘And he’ll find me?’ Michael pressed.

‘Doesn’t he always?’ Dom replied.

‘That’s not really an answer either, Dominic.’ Michael said shifting position again.

‘It’s the only one I’ve got.’ Dom said.

Hawke always did find him, usually just in the nick of time. Maybe that was something to cling on to, Michael mused. Maybe he would get out of this after all.

‘You should really ask Marella to marry you.’

Michael glared at the pilot. ‘I might have known you’d be an interfering busybody of a ghost.’

‘You’ve been thinking about it.’ Dom said ignoring the insult. ‘What’s stopping you?’

‘Angelina…’

‘Likes Marella. Hasn’t she been hinting that if you two wanted to get married she’d be OK with that?’

‘I’m not getting married just because Angelina wants to be a bridesmaid.’ Michael said.

‘But you really shouldn’t allow it to stop you getting married either.’ Dom pointed out ruthlessly. ‘So are you going to tell me the truth here or what?’

Michael and Dom stared at each other for a long while. The spy looked away first and folded his arms against his chest. ‘I think you were marginally less annoying when you were alive.’

‘You know Marella isn’t Gemma.’ Dom said referring to Michael’s ex-wife.

‘I know that.’ Michael insisted rubbing his forehead.

‘Do you?’ Dom waved a hand at him. ‘Because I’m kinda thinking you’re worried history will repeat itself.’

‘You never remarried.’ Michael pointed out.

‘I never met the right woman.’ Dom said with a regretful smile. ‘You, on the other hand, have Marella. Smart, beautiful and, for some insane reason, madly in love with you.’

‘The feeling’s mutual.’ Michael said.

‘Then propose already.’ Dom insisted.

Michael laughed weakly. ‘You don’t give up do you?’

‘Nope.’ Dom grinned at him. ‘Angelina’s going to make a beautiful bridesmaid.’ He sighed happily. ‘Your kid’s a bucket of sunshine, Michael.’

‘She’s special.’ Michael said with fatherly pride.

‘You don’t know how special.’ Dom said with a faraway look.

‘Oh?’ Michael’s interest was roused.

Dom’s gaze snapped back to him and he smiled. ‘Can’t tell ya. Sorry.’

‘No, you’re not.’ Michael said recognising the laughter shining from the other man’s eyes.

‘You’re right,’ Dom readily admitted, ‘I’m not.’

There was a comfortable silence in the little padded room.

‘Thank you.’ Michael said quietly.

‘What for?’ Dom asked puzzled.

‘For being here.’ Michael gestured. ‘I’m not sure I care if you’re a ghost or a hallucination. I’m glad you’re here.’

‘Where else would I be?’ Dom said with a smile.

‘With Hawke?’ Michael suggested. ‘Or maybe with Nicky?’ He smiled. ‘You know they named the baby after you. Well, actually after you and Alan Hawke.’

Dom grinned. ‘I know. But Nicky’s safely with Caitlin and Hawke…well, he’s got more help than he thought he would have so…’

‘What about Alan? Doesn’t he need you?’ Michael asked casually.

‘Actually…’ Dom stopped and gave him an admiring look. ‘Sneaky, Michael. You have concussion and you’re still attempting to trick me into telling secrets.’ He sighed. ‘I guess I shouldn’t be surprised you being a spy and all.’

‘I’m not exactly a spy right now.’ Michael muttered unhappily.

‘You say that like it’s a bad thing.’

‘I miss it.’ Michael said.

Dom gave a little huff of laughter. ‘I don’t know why given it’s all that intrigue and stuff that got you into this mess in the first place.’

‘You know who has me?’ Michael asked.

Dom hesitated and sighed deeply. ‘I wish I could tell ya, Michael, but I’m already blurring the lines just being here as it is.’ His head cocked and his expression turned grave. ‘They’re coming.’

Michael frowned but he heard the lock snap open and the door opened. Two men filled the door way. The spy looked back over at Dom.

‘Just remember; you have to hold on.’ Dom said.

Michael nodded as he was pulled roughly to his feet and half-pushed, half-carried through the door.

—

Hawke’s grip tightened on his gun and he peeked around the corner. His steely blue gaze scanned the sky above as his ears caught the sound of Airwolf’s turbine engines.

‘About time.’ He muttered. He tensed at a sound behind him and he whirled his weapon ready.

Saint John held up a hand. ‘It’s me.’ He said in a stage-whisper.

Hawke lowered the gun. ‘Michael’s been held in a room on the second floor. I figure there are four guards patrolling the grounds, three on each floor and Terrence brought another two goons with him.’

‘He’s here?’ Saint John asked.

‘Arrived about ten minutes ago.’ Hawke said worriedly.

‘Well, I guess we shouldn’t wait.’ Saint John said. ‘Did you register all that Airwolf?’

‘Confirmed. We’ll take care of the patrols. Just give us the signal.’ Mike said confidently.

Saint John nodded at Hawke who quickly opened the door to the building and slipped inside.

The brothers made their way up the stairwell to the second floor. Hawke peeked out of the door and indicated for Saint John to precede him into the corridor whilst he provided cover. They made their way down the corridor in the same way until Hawke stood at the corner. He crouched down and took a look.

Two men, he hand-signalled to his brother.

Saint John nodded and indicated for him to go low; he’d go high – on a count of three. ‘Now, Mike.’ He whispered into his radio.

The scream of the Airwolf engines shattered the silence of the building as the brothers took out the guards. They took positions on either side of the door and as it was wrenched open as the occupants came out to see what was happening, Hawke brought his gun down on the head of the first man; Saint John tackled the second. He went sprawling into the corridor with the six foot muscle man.

‘Go!’ He yelled at his brother.

Hawke flung himself into the room. He shot the man lining up to shoot Michael without hesitation.

Michael stared at Hawke. ‘Your timing is impeccable.’

‘Yeah.’ Hawke said as he hurried over to untie Michael from the chair. ‘Can you walk?’

‘I can.’ Michael got up, swayed and Hawke steadied him. ‘I’m good.’ He said.

‘Yeah.’ Hawke let him go again. There was a crash outside the room. ‘I’d better…’

‘Go.’ Michael gestured for him to leave as he stooped and picked up Terrence’s gun. He looked at the dead man. His eye fell on the torture instruments lined up neatly on a side table and shuddered. The shots from the corridor caught his attention and he staggered to the doorway. He slumped against it whilst he took in what was happening. The brothers were pressed against the wall at one end of the corridor whilst another two guards at the other end of the corridor shot at them. It was difficult for them to shoot without exposing their position; Michael had no such trouble. He aimed and fired at the shooters. The corridor fell silent.

Saint John looked back at him in surprise. ‘Thanks.’

Michael nodded. ‘Shouldn’t we get out of here?’

‘Good idea.’ Hawke said. ‘Stairs are that way. We’ll take Terrence’s car.’

The chatter of Airwolf’s chain guns outside followed them down the stairs and apart from one guard that Saint John knocked out, they didn’t meet any resistance until they left the building.

A barrage of automatic gunfire hit the ground in front of them. All three men took refuge behind the car.

‘Mike, we need you.’ Saint John said.

Hawke took a quick look over the car before crouching down again. ‘There are two guards at that small wall across the lawn. If I take them out, we should be OK to move.’

‘Mike will be here in a minute.’ Saint John reassured him.

‘We should wait for support.’ Michael agreed.

Hawke frowned and went to shoot. Michael saw the movement of another guard across the front lawn in a different position. He grabbed Hawke’s jacket and pulled the pilot down as the bullet slammed into the side mirror where his head had just been.

Hawke glanced up at the shattered mirror. ‘Maybe we should wait, huh?’

Saint John let a shaky breath and his gaze met Michael’s with reluctant admiration. ‘Good save.’

Airwolf howled overhead and the rattle of her chain-guns took out the shooters around them.

‘You’re clear.’ Mike said. He brought Airwolf to a hover above the car giving them cover.

Hawke gestured at Airwolf and then at his brother. ‘You should head back with them.’

‘I should stay with you guys.’ Saint John said.

‘We’ll be fine now.’ Hawke said and pulled his brother in for a quick hug. ‘Thanks for the back-up.’

Michael offered his hand to Saint John as Hawke released him. ‘Yes, thank you.’

Saint John shook it firmly. ‘See you on the other coast.’

Hawke and Michael got in the car and pulled away as Airwolf landed to take Saint John back on board.

‘Where are we going?’ Michael asked as he realised Hawke was heading away from the city. Not that he minded; he could get someone at the office to deal with the hotels.

‘We have a flight to catch.’ Hawke said with a grin. His blue eyes twinkled with mischief. ‘I think we can beat them back to LA.’

Michael looked at him stunned. ‘You brought the new Airwolf?’

Hawke nodded.

‘But she hasn’t been tested yet!’ Michael yelled.

Hawke glanced across the car. ‘It’s good to have you back, Michael.’ He said dryly.

Michael subsided into his seat and shifted, trying to ease his bruised muscles. ‘Hawke.’

‘Yeah?’

‘Thanks.’

Hawke was smiling as he made the turn to the airfield.

—

‘Michael?’

Michael turned at Marella’s prompt and smiled at the sight of his partner in a deep red dress which set off her dark colouring beautifully. ‘You look stunning.’

She smiled pleased at the compliment. ‘You did say we should dress up.’ Her eyes ran over the dark slacks he wore with the matching cashmere sweater and pale shirt.

‘I did.’ Michael pushed away from the balcony and limped over to wrap her into a hug.

Marella sighed and breathed in the scent of him. She’d barely gone five paces from him since his return the week before and whilst she knew she couldn’t keep doing that forever she was pleased that he didn’t seem to mind.

‘Are you sure you’re up to this?’ Marella said.

‘It’s only dinner.’ Michael said with a smile.

‘Why are we doing this again?’ Marella asked.

‘What do you mean?’ Michael replied.

‘Well, I understand you asking Caitlin and Hawke to dinner to say thank you but the new Airwolf team?’ Her dark eyes searched his slightly amused expression.

‘They did help save my life.’ Michael commented.

She raised an eyebrow.

‘And I thought it might make it easier on Hawke if we all made an effort to get along.’ Michael conceded. ‘We’re all going to have to work together on the matter of the Hawkes’ parents, after all, so maybe we should consider that we’re all just simply one big Airwolf family.’

‘Hmmm.’ Marella smiled. ‘So you’re not the least bit smug that you and Hawke beat them back to LA by ten minutes.’

Michael’s lips twitched. According to the computer logs they had beaten the original Airwolf machine by a clear ten minutes, not counting the head start the other helicopter had enjoyed. He had to admit he’d rather savoured that news. But there again, Michael thought their helicopter did have a clear advantage over the original Airwolf machine; it had Hawke.

‘Was that Hawke and Caitlin?’ Michael had heard the doorbell as he finished dressing. He was still moving stiffly from his injuries and Marella had seen to it.

‘Yes. I showed them to their room. They’re getting Nicky settled.’ Marella said.

‘Is Nicky OK?’ Michael checked. He’d offered them the room when he had extended the invitation to dinner.

‘They are all settling in fine.’ She smoothed her hands over her shoulders. ‘How did you convince Chrissy’s Mom to take Angelina for the night?’

‘Charm, persuasion,’ Michael’s eye twinkled, ‘and something about promising that the next time the girls want a slumber party they have it here.’

‘That could be interesting.’ Marella said laughing. She gave into the urge to kiss him and when she pulled back, she smiled at the lipstick mark. She rubbed it off. ‘I’d better go and check on the caterers.’ She slipped out of his hold.

‘I’ll be down in a minute.’ Michael said. ‘Marella…’

She turned back to look at him inquisitively.

‘I do love you.’

Her smile widened. ‘I love you too.’

Michael watched her as she elegantly walked out of the room.

‘You really should ask her to marry you.’

Every bone and sinew in Michael’s body tensed. He turned back to the view of the ocean slowly.

Dom grinned at him. The old pilot had his back to the balcony railing which he was leaning on casually.

‘My God.’ Michael muttered. ‘You really are haunting me.’

Dom roared with laughter as Michael tried to recover his wits. He’d been sure his whole experience at the sanatorium had been a hallucination caused by the blow to his head.

‘I just wanted to check in on you, Michael.’ Dom said. ‘And to thank you for what you’re doing.’ He smiled. ‘I told you you’d think of something.’

‘Yes, you did.’ Michael said.

‘It’s a nice thing you’re doing.’ Dom nodded.

‘He misses you.’ Michael said pushing his hands in the pockets of his trousers.

‘I miss him too.’ Dom’s craggy face saddened a little before it brightened again. ‘I’ll be around for him but it helps knowing he’s got good back-up.’

Michael nodded. ‘Always.’

Dom nodded again. ‘Well, got to go. Got to go check on an old friend of mine. Look after my boys, Michael,’ he wagged a finger at the spy, ‘or I will come back to haunt you.’

Michael opened his mouth to retort…

‘Michael?’

Hawke’s voice had Michael spinning back to the doorway to find the pilot looking back at him with concern.

‘Are you OK?’ Hawke asked, his blue eyes running over the other man anxiously.

Michael looked back toward the balcony. It was empty. He really was losing his mind, he thought. He smiled sadly. ‘I’m fine.’

‘You sure?’ Hawke asked. ‘I kinda thought I heard you talking with someone.’

‘Just myself.’ Michael limped over to the railing. ‘It’s a great view isn’t it?’

Hawke joined him. He looked out at the crashing surf against the cliff, the sky deepening to lilac from blue and a molten sun heading into the horizon. ‘Yeah.’

‘I have a sudden appreciation for it.’ Michael said wryly.

Hawke’s blue eyes softened. ‘Well, almost getting killed will do that for you, Michael.’

Michael nodded. ‘I called Robert Delaney and thanked him for his help.’ He turned to face Hawke. ‘He said you never asked why we met for lunch.’

Hawke shrugged. ‘That’s your business, Michael.’

‘Actually, it’s yours too.’ Michael said. He waited until he had Hawke’s full attention.

‘I take it this has something to do with your plot to keep our brand, new shiny Airwolf out of the Company’s hands?’ Hawke asked.

‘Yes.’ Michael smiled. He might have known Hawke would figure it out. ‘How much do you remember about the plans for the original machine, before Moffett stole it I mean?’

Hawke shrugged. ‘That she was going to be the first of a fleet. That’s pretty much it.’

‘The FIRM planned to sell the project to the DOD. In fact that was the reason for the aerial and weapons demonstration the day Moffett stole her.’ Michael smoothed his moustache. ‘The DOD would take over production of the helicopters, the FIRM would be repaid for the R&D and we would receive the first five helicopters off the production line for use in intelligence work.’

‘And you’re planning to sell the project back to the DOD once the new helicopter is fully ready?’ Hawke asked.

‘Not exactly.’ Michael frowned. ‘Bob and I are working on getting a presidential order to move the Airwolf project to a new department. No intelligence agency has a remit for operating an attack helicopter; the project was always an anomaly so moving it should have support. But the move would be with certain conditions.’

‘Such as?’ Hawke asked.

‘We’ll limit production; have maybe two or three maximum and use a small team working on missions like today.’ Michael said. ‘But more importantly, the organisation will have complete autonomy and report directly to the President.’ He gestured. ‘No more intelligence agency calling the shots.’

‘Just the President.’ Hawke noted.

‘Got to offer the man a reason to do it.’ Michael said.

‘Bob’s helping you work out the politics?’ Hawke checked.

Michael nodded. ‘I’ve also thought he would be good to have as our liaison in Washington when the new organisation is established.’

‘You’ll command the programme from the ground at Red Star.’ Hawke surmised.

‘You’ll fly Airwolf and act as senior pilot.’ Michael noted. ‘What do you think?’

Hawke lifted a hand from the railing. ‘Beats dealing with the Company. How close are you to making it a reality?’

‘Close.’ Michael said. He sighed. ‘Not close enough though. Not yet.’

Hawke nodded. He shifted position a little. ‘Michael, I just want to say…’ he sighed and rubbed a hand through his brown hair, ‘thanks for this. For dinner.’

‘It’s only dinner.’ Michael said. He hesitated for a moment and then sighed. ‘I guess things haven’t been that easy for you and your brother since he came back.’

Hawke shrugged a little self-consciously. ‘Cait says it’ll get easier with time.’

‘She’s right.’ Michael murmured.

‘She usually is.’ Hawke said with a short laugh. His head tilted. ‘Nicky’s crying. I’d better go and see if he’s OK.’

Michael nodded. ‘I’d better go down.’

They walked out of Michael’s bedroom together separating on the landing. Michael limped down the stairs as Hawke went to see to his son.

The doorbell rang.

Michael sighed and opened the front door. The four members of the Airwolf team looked back at him. Saint John’s hazel eyes were guarded as were Locke’s, Jo’s hopeful and Rivers grinned at him.

Michael found himself smiling back and opened the door wider to let them in. ‘Welcome. I’m glad you could make it.’

It didn’t take long for everybody to gather in the sitting room. Michael was adept at arranging people and he easily managed to get the brothers sat together on one sofa with Caitlin whilst the others took the second sofa and Marella perched on the arm of Michael’s easy chair. For a little while the business of sorting drinks took up conversation until Locke cleared his throat uneasily.

‘I believe I owe you a thank you, Archangel.’ Locke murmured.

His team stared at him in surprise.

‘What do you mean?’ Jo asked.

Locke gestured. ‘Apparently we were going to catch hell for our little jaunt to Washington but someone intervened.’ His dark gaze stayed on Michael.

‘I might have made a few phone calls.’ Michael admitted. ‘I’m still not without some influence.’

‘Well, thank you.’ Locke said.

Michael smiled. ‘I think that should be the other way around. After all, you did save my life.’

‘Actually, talking about the mission, I’ve been meaning to ask you,’ Saint John said leaning forward, his hazel eyes seeking out Michael’s good eye, ‘were you responsible for this guy Terrence getting captured by the Chinese?’ He asked bluntly.

Marella’s dark eyes flashed and she opened her mouth to defend Michael when he slid his hand over hers and squeezed; an old signal that he would take the question.

Hawke missed the byplay between his friends as he turned in exasperation to his brother. ‘Saint John…’

‘It’s OK, Hawke. I don’t mind answering.’ Michael interrupted him.

‘You don’t?’ Saint John asked surprised.

Michael smoothed his moustache. ‘An old friend told me recently that the enigmatic spy act doesn’t make a good first impression.’

Saint John unwillingly smiled back. ‘He was right.’

Michael’s good eye met Saint John’s firmly. ‘I wasn’t responsible for Terrence in China. He always knew that.’

Saint John frowned. ‘Then why…?’

‘He knew I knew who was.’ Michael said simply. The image of the tray of torture instruments Terrence had arranged flashed in his mind.

‘Well, thank you for answering the question.’ Saint John said raising his wine glass a little. ‘I appreciate it.’

Hawke breathed a sigh of relief as the atmosphere in the room eased a little.

‘How about a toast?’ Rivers said stepping into the silence.

‘An excellent idea.’ Michael lifted his glass. ‘To the Airwolf team.’ His gaze moved from the Hawkes to Locke to Rivers and Jo before meeting Marella’s warm gaze. ‘Past and present.’

‘The Airwolf team.’ They all chorused.

‘I’ve been thinking,’ Michael said slipping his fingers through Marella’s as he addressed the brothers, ‘that it might be good for us to know more about your parents if we’re going to start looking for them.’

‘Honestly, Michael, I’m not sure how much we could tell you.’ Hawke said.

‘You must have memories of your childhood though.’ Michael replied. ‘You never know how much potentially useful information they could hold.’

‘I don’t know.’ Saint John said sceptically.

Caitlin’s eyes narrowed on Michael. She had a suspicion she knew what he was up to. ‘No, he’s right. Some of your childhood memories could be useful.’ She smiled at her brother-in-law. ‘Besides I never tire of hearing stories about Hawke.’

Hawke and Saint John looked at each other a little apprehensively.

‘I guess it couldn’t hurt.’ Hawke said.

Saint John sighed and nodded. ‘OK. Where do you want to start?’

‘How about that time you fell out of the tree house and broke your arm?’ Hawke said his blue eyes warming with the memory.

‘Or maybe we should start with the time you fell out of the tree house and broke your arm.’ Saint John countered smiling.

Michael sipped his champagne and watched as the brothers fell quickly into a steady rhythm of teasing banter as they recounted their childhood escapades. Mission not quite accomplished, Dominic; Michael thought firmly as he watched them, but it’s on its way; it was definitely on its way.

fin.

Next Story: Torn in Two