Storytime with Rachel F Hundred

Sarah Katherine Hawke. The sound of her real name seemed strange to the petite brunette as she tried it out loud for the umpteenth time, the words floating away on the thin breeze that ruffled her shoulder length hair and skimmed over her pale skin. She sighed and hugged her knees to her unconsciously as she stared out at the peaceful lake in front of her from her place on the porch steps of her brother’s cabin. The water was a silvery grey with the peaks of the surrounding mountains casting dark shadows. Sarah breathed deeply and let the serenity settle in her soul.

It was so beautiful, she thought wistfully. She turned her head and glanced back at her brother’s home. It suited Stringfellow Hawke and his wife, Caitlin. There was something solid and unyielding about the place from the outside yet once beyond the front door, it was softened with warmth – a bit like the couple themselves. Sarah smiled amused at her whimsy. The cabin had been a great place to hide for the previous two weeks since the reunion with her two older brothers. She rubbed her cold hands together as she watched the first glimmer of light break the dark sky.

‘There’s nothing like a sunrise.’

Sarah’s head snapped around to the porch at the quiet words and she put her hand to her chest as though to soothe her racing heart. Her brother stood there dressed in jeans and a thick woollen sweater.

Hawke took in her alarmed expression. ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.’

‘It’s OK.’ Sarah smiled ruefully. ‘I’m kinda getting used to your ninja like ability not to make any noise.’

He returned the smile as he walked the few strides that separated them and sat down beside her. His knee nudged hers as he settled into position. They watched the sun come up in silence for a long while.

‘You’re up early.’

She heard the subtle concern in his statement and almost smiled. She had quickly realised that her brothers had a protective streak a mile wide. ‘I woke early.’

‘Nervous about today?’ Hawke asked gently. It was the first day that Sarah and her young son, Chris, would leave the cabin and begin their lives in LA.

‘I guess I am.’ Sarah admitted. She glanced over at Hawke who was looking back at her with a steady blue gaze from eyes that matched her own. She gave another half-smile. ‘You’ll be the same when you have to drop Nicky off at school for the first time.’ She gestured. ‘You worry if they’ll be OK, if they’ll make friends, if they’ll fit in. You just want so much for them.’

Hawke conjured up the moment when he would have to take his baby son, Nicky, to school and grinned at the image. ‘Yeah.’ His knee nudged hers again; this time deliberately. ‘Chris is going to be OK though. He’s a great kid and it’s a good school, very secure.’

‘I know.’ Sarah shivered. She’d never thought security would be top of the list of qualities to look for in a school but with the reality that her family were being targeted by the Mafia, security wasn’t only the top of the list, it was in bold capital letters and underscored several times.

‘You know Saint John would understand if you didn’t want to start work today.’ Hawke murmured. Sarah had opted to work at Santini Air claiming she was more comfortable with the familiar set up of an air service than the world of espionage and aerial combat that Hawke and Caitlin inhabited flying a technologically advanced helicopter, Airwolf, for a shadowy division within the Department of Defence.

‘I’m OK.’ Sarah insisted. ‘I can’t hide out here forever.’

‘No.’ Hawke agreed.

Sarah glanced over at him curiously. She figured there had been a time when Hawke had tried hiding out on the mountain. She faced the scenery again. Despite the fact that they had never met until two weeks before, she felt a certain empathy with Hawke. Maybe it was because they were so alike physically, she mused; looking at Hawke was like looking at a slighter older male version of herself unlike Saint John. She bit her lip.

Saint John looked so like their father, it was hard for her to get past that especially given the slightly combative relationship with her parents that had triggered her running away from home. She sighed heavily. She couldn’t regret it. If she hadn’t run away with Lee Edwards, he wouldn’t have gotten her pregnant at sixteen and she wouldn’t have Chris. Still, given her wariness about Saint John she was questioning whether she had made the right choice about going to work with him and his girlfriend Jo Santini at Santini Air.

‘Nervous?’ Hawke asked hearing her sigh.

‘Yeah. A little.’ Sarah admitted.

‘It’s a good place to work.’ Hawke assured her. ‘ Saint John and Jo will see you’re OK and Lord knows they pay better than Dom ever did.’

He succeeded in raising a smile and she shook her head in disbelief. ‘This is just so weird.’

‘What?’ Hawke asked.

‘Sitting here with you.’ Sarah said with a chuckle. ‘Talking about Dom.’ She waved a hand vaguely in the air. ‘Dad used to tell us all these old stories about him and his best friend Dom, about their escapades during the war. I always thought he made him up.’ She shook her head again. ‘I wish I could have met him.’

‘Me too.’ Hawke said gruffly. ‘You’d have liked him.’

‘Ah but would he have liked me?’ Sarah said lightly. As a young single Mom with no husband in tow she was used to being judged.

Hawke’s lips curved slightly as he thought about the likely reaction Dom would have had to Sarah. He could almost see the gap-toothed grin. ‘He’d have loved you.’

Sarah ducked her head before she registered the grief in his voice. ‘You miss him a lot.’

Hawke nodded. ‘He pretty much raised me after we thought Mom and Dad died in the boating accident.’

Sarah reached out and tangled her hand in his to comfort him and ease the pain she could hear underlying the simple statement. He frowned at how cold she was and rubbed at her fingers, warming them.

‘You really think we’re going to find them?’ Sarah asked. She had given up hope of ever seeing her parents again when she’d become separated from them and her younger brother. She had known the score, she told herself firmly. Their parents were on the run from a revengeful Mob family called the Cordelli’s, they had to keep moving even if that meant leaving her behind.

‘Larry Mason is the best there is.’ Hawke said referring to the information analyst who was tracking their parents down. ‘If anyone can find them, it’s him and all the information you provided has got to help.’

‘Do you really think Dad’s still alive? I mean with Yahara thinking he was dead.’ Sarah had been shocked to find out that the revengeful Japanese pilot who had prompted Hawke and Saint John to look for their family had thought their father had died of a heart-attack.

‘I’m hoping he was wrong.’ Hawke admitted.

‘I can’t believe I’ll get to see them all again. I’d given up hope of ever being able to tell them how sorry I was.’ Sarah murmured.

‘You were only a teenager.’ Hawke said gently. ‘Give yourself a break.’

‘I made their lives hell.’ Sarah corrected. ‘I never really understood why they were so protective, I just felt smothered. Even when they told me about losing you and Saint John, I didn’t get it.’ She felt him squeeze her fingers lightly. ‘It wasn’t until I had Chris that I understood.’

‘Rebellion’s fairly normal for a teenager.’ Hawke commented.

‘Did you rebel?’ Sarah asked.

‘I really wasn’t a normal teenager.’ Hawke said wryly.

‘Seb never rebelled either.’ Sarah said referring to the youngest of the Hawke siblings, a brother Hawke and Saint John had yet to meet. She felt a pang of regret. She had never paid too much attention to Seb; he’d simply been her annoying geeky younger brother but finding Saint John and Hawke had made her realise how much she missed him.

‘Maybe rebelling is an elder child thing.’ Hawke mused. ‘ Saint John did the whole rebellion thing. He tried to run away and join the army.’ He smiled at her. ‘You two have more in common than you realise.’ He caught the flicker of doubt in her eyes. ‘You just have to give him a chance.’

‘I know.’ Sarah said defensively. ‘It’s just…’

‘He looks like Dad.’ Hawke said.

She looked at him surprised he’d worked out why she was having a hard time connecting with their older brother.

Hawke shrugged. ‘Cait worked it out.’

‘Oh.’ Sarah looked down at the worn patch of grass at the bottom of the steps. She really liked Hawke’s wife. There was something immensely likeable about the pretty no-nonsense redhead. It had been Caitlin who had found her in the kitchen in the middle of the night when she’d had a nightmare about being abducted by Harold Watson. Somehow for Sarah confiding in the woman who had saved her from rape had been cathartic not least because Caitlin had shared some of her own experiences and offered to teach her some self-defence. ‘She’s a clever woman your wife.’

‘Yes, she is.’ Hawke said.

Sarah felt a pang of envy. She wondered if she would ever find a man who would speak about her with the same mixture of love and pride, and who she would look at the same way Caitlin looked at Hawke. Maybe one day that was possible now, she thought. She wasn’t running anymore. She wasn’t exactly safe yet; she understood that but she was done running. It was a good feeling. She might be nervous but she was also excited about Chris starting a new school, and starting her new job. She’d have to look for a place too, she thought a little regretfully. As much as she had enjoyed the sanctuary Hawke and Caitlin had offered, it was time to find somewhere closer to Chris’s school and Santini Air.

‘It’s going to take time for us all to get used to each other.’ Hawke commented as he rubbed her hand between his. ‘ Saint John understands that.’

‘I know. I wouldn’t be working at Santini Air if I didn’t think so.’ Sarah said trying to reassure him. ‘It’s just…it’s not just that he looks like Dad but he sounds so like him too.’

‘Really?’ Hawke’s eyes widened. ‘I hadn’t thought of that.’

‘He’ll say something and I’ll turn around expecting to see Dad and it’s him.’ Sarah shook her head. ‘And it’s been a little difficult getting him on his own to talk to him about it.’

Hawke’s eyebrow quirked upward. ‘Jo?’

‘She doesn’t seem to leave him alone.’ Sarah observed trying to lighten the words with a smile.

‘Well, they’ve just got together.’ Hawke said. ‘I think Caitlin calls it the can’t-be-without-each-other stage.’

Sarah remained diplomatically silent. Saint John and Jo had stayed at the cabin with them for the first week and she and Jo had gotten along but she hadn’t clicked with the blonde pilot in the same way as she had clicked with Caitlin. She sighed. In many ways she was beginning to question why she had chosen Santini Air where she would be working on a daily basis with Jo and Saint John when she got on so much better with Caitlin and Hawke. Guns scared her, she reminded herself; that whole world of spies and missions scared her.

Hawke patted her hand. ‘I think we should probably head in. Get the day started.’

She nodded and he released her, going back into the cabin as silently as he had come out. She glanced back at the sunrise; the light had turned the lake to a shimmering gold. A new day, she thought; her own new beginning.

—

Michael Coldsmith-Briggs III tugged on his white waistcoat as he limped around his desk to the wall where the current details of the latest Airwolf mission were displayed on the large monitor.

‘So what are we looking at here, Michael?’ Hawke asked impatiently.

Michael sighed as he glanced across at the pilot. He could almost believe the last few years hadn’t happened and it was still the beginning of the original Airwolf project. Hawke hadn’t changed much; his boyish looks gave him the deceptive appearance of someone much younger than his thirty-six years, his short brown hair was in its usual military style and there weren’t that many more laughter lines around his startling blue eyes. Michael’s good eye dropped to the unopened briefing file clutched in Hawke’s hand. No; nothing changed. He cleared his throat and gestured at the photo. ‘This is Jarvosibrov, Russia. It’s not far from the location where we discovered Moffett last year.’

Hawke sighed automatically tensing at the mention of Airwolf’s late twisted creator. ‘Why do I get the feeling I’m not going to like this?’

‘Because you’re not going to like it?’ quipped Mike Rivers.

The blonde haired Air Force Major had assumed the position of Hawke’s co-pilot in Airwolf a few weeks before having previously flown the helicopter with Saint John during the time the intelligence agency the Company had been in control of the machine. He had willingly transferred over when the Airwolf project had been transferred to the Department of Defence on the authority of a Presidential order. He, Hawke and Caitlin were beginning to find a rhythm as a crew and while Michael grimaced at the humour, Hawke’s carefully guarded eyes lit up with appreciation while Caitlin hid a smile.

Michael hit the remote and another picture slid onto the screen. All three pilots leaned forward for a better look. ‘Satellite picked this up two days ago.’

Caitlin frowned. ‘That looks kinda like…’

‘Airwolf.’ Hawke completed.

Michael had the grim satisfaction of seeing them all turn to regard him with serious concern.

‘Is that…?’ Mike waved at the screen unwilling to complete the sentence.

‘Yes.’ Michael said.

There was a brief rap on the office door and it opened to reveal Marella, Michael’s fiancée and right-hand woman. She swept across the office gracefully and handed him a set of pictures before she perched on his desk to join the rest of the briefing.

Michael glanced at the pictures before he handed them out to the Airwolf team. ‘These are the latest images.’ He leaned back against the console. ‘We’ve known for some time that the Russian’s were working on an Airwolf design. James Byrne managed to steal the first completed blueprint and get that away from Russia.’

Hawke and Caitlin exchanged a look; Caitlin had been badly wounded in the op to bring in Byrne. It was a mission both of them were happy to forget.

‘When you went into Russia after Moffett last year, you reported that the Russian general told you their Airwolf design had been stolen.’ Michael frowned. ‘We’ve always assumed that he was referring to Byrne’s theft.’

‘But he wasn’t.’ Hawke murmured.

‘These pictures would suggest otherwise.’ Marella said smoothly brushing her hair back over her shoulder. Her dark eyes seemed to simmer with secrets as she looked at him. ‘They show an almost fully completed Airwolf helicopter.’

‘Almost?’ Caitlin held up the picture. ‘I would say she was done.’

‘Our intel indicates that she’s undergoing final flight tests.’ Marella said.

‘You want us to go in and destroy it.’ Hawke surmised.

‘Actually, that’s not the primary objective.’ Michael said.

Hawke’s eyes narrowed on the spy. ‘You want us to recover it.’

‘You have to be kidding.’ Mike gestured at the monitor. ‘That place is a fortress.’

‘A third Airwolf craft would be invaluable.’ Michael said.

‘Because the two we have aren’t enough.’ Caitlin said sarcastically folding her arms.

‘At the moment, we only have one mission ready helicopter,’ Marella pointed out, ‘the original Airwolf. The newer model is still undergoing tests and adjustments. If Airwolf was damaged on a mission, we don’t have a spare so having another would provide us with the ability to continue to perform missions if the original Airwolf was in for repair or for maintenance.’

Hawke rubbed his chin. ‘You want us to steal the Russian Airwolf as a back-up.’

‘Recover.’ Michael said primly. ‘After all, her design is owned by us but if you can’t recover her, you’re authorised to destroy her.’

‘Mike’s right; recovering her is going to be difficult.’ Hawke said pointing at the screen. ‘I’m seeing an outer and an inner perimeter; both of which are heavily guarded. There’re anti-aircraft guns on the roof; four look-out positions with serious artillery…and I’m going to assume they have radar and other surveillance equipment.’

‘You’d be right.’ Marella said calmly.

‘And you still expect us to recover it?’ Mike asked in disbelief.

‘We’re confident if anybody can find a way, it’s this team.’ Michael confirmed.

Hawke leaned over to Mike although he kept his eyes on Michael. ‘You know when he starts to flatter you that he’s asking the impossible.’

Mike grinned appreciatively as Michael looked exasperated. ‘What about an undercover op?’

‘We don’t have the time to create a feasible cover and quite frankly, we’re playing catch up on this.’ Michael admitted. ‘If satellite images hadn’t picked this up twenty-four hours ago, we’d still be none the wiser.’

Hawke sighed. ‘We can go take a look but I’m not guaranteeing we’ll bring it back.’

Michael nodded. ‘There’s one other thing.’

‘There always is.’ Hawke said dryly.

Michael pushed his glasses up his nose, brushing the black eye-patch. He pressed the remote again and the picture changed to a map showing a blacked out circle around Jarvosibrov. ‘The area marked seems to be experiencing problems with long range communications.’

‘A jammer?’ Caitlin asked.

‘Undoubtedly.’ Michael agreed. ‘Unfortunately, it’s yet to be located. Once you enter this zone, communication will be impossible.’

‘Although short range communication doesn’t seem to be affected,’ Marella added, ‘so you should be able to use radios during your mission if you split up as a team.’

‘Great, just great.’ Caitlin muttered. She frowned. ‘If long range communication is being jammed, what about Airwolf’s AI?’ She asked referring to the artificial intelligence Airwolf had developed. It operated from the new ship but used the telecommunications system to transfer between computers and helicopters. ‘How is she going to keep connected with us?’

Marella smiled reassuringly. ‘We had the relevant parts of the programming supporting the AI moved back to the original Airwolf and removed from the new ship last night in preparation for the mission today. She won’t need the connection to remain with you.’

‘Any other questions?’ Michael asked.

Hawke looked at Caitlin and Mike who both shook their heads. He looked back at Michael. ‘I guess not. We’ll get going.’

They all rose to their feet as Michael and Marella wished them good luck.

Caitlin turned to Marella. ‘Can you take look after Nicky until we get back?’

Marella nodded. ‘No problem, and don’t worry. Just get back within forty-eight hours; don’t forget we have that dress fitting for the wedding.’

Caitlin attempted a smile. Marella and Michael were getting married in June and the final preparations were in full swing including dress fittings. The dress couldn’t be any worse than the one her sister had chosen for her, Caitlin reassured herself.

‘Damn.’ Hawke sighed and pushed a hand through his hair. ‘I’d better call Saint John and see if he can stay at the cabin tonight with Sarah and Chris.’

Caitlin laid a hand on his arm. ‘Good idea. We can call him from Airwolf. The sooner we get this mission over with the better.’

Hawke didn’t argue with her; he shared the sentiment.

Michael wandered back to the white leather chair behind his desk, his mind already turning to the other problem that had surfaced that morning and sat down.

Marella closed the door after the departing Airwolf team and walked back to him. ‘You really think they can pull it off?’

‘Hawke will think of something.’ Michael said, glancing over the briefing document in front of him.

‘What is it?’ Marella asked seeing the concern on his face.

He passed her the piece of paper and leaned back in his chair watching her reaction.

‘Jason Locke disappeared twenty-four hours ago.’ Marella’s dark eyes met Michael’s gaze. ‘I take it that wasn’t planned.’ The Company agent was undertaking a risky undercover operation to get close to Matt Sterling. The well-known businessman had been named as the man behind two attempts to grab Airwolf. They believed he was backed by Mafia money and ran a number of illegitimate activities alongside his legitimate business and philanthropy. He apparently had been able to compromise a number of Company operatives including an ex-deputy director called Marshall Evan whose betrayal of the Airwolf team had precipitated the Presidential order to move the Airwolf project to the DoD.

‘No.’ Michael rubbed his moustache. ‘Locke was reporting in as scheduled until yesterday.’

‘What are you thinking?’ Marella asked.

‘I’m not sure what I think.’ Michael admitted. ‘According to his reports, Locke was doing well. He was approached forty-eight hours after arriving in New York. They apparently fell for his act about bitter about losing control of Airwolf.’

‘I don’t think it was all an act.’ Marella murmured.

Michael raised a hand from the desk in a vague gesture of acceptance. ‘Which made it all the more convincing.’ He swung back around to face her fully. ‘He was expecting to be contacted by someone around the time he disappeared at a nightclub called Shakers.’ He paused. ‘It’s owned by Sterling.’

‘What about his back-up?’ Marella asked.

‘Simone lost him in the nightclub.’ Michael admitted. ‘She says he was taken to a VIP section and she couldn’t follow him; by the time she’d convinced the bouncer to let her in, Locke was gone.’

‘And no sightings at airports or train stations.’ Marella noted.

‘Kara’s checking back through the surveillance tapes at the New York airports to be sure.’ Michael sighed. ‘I have a bad feeling about this.’

‘What are you going to do?’ Marella asked.

‘Wait another twenty-four hours.’ Michael said firmly. ‘See if Locke surfaces on his own.’

‘And if he does?’ Marella probed.

‘Then we’ll soon find out if he’s been compromised.’ Michael said solemnly.

Marella put the document back down on the desk.

‘Where are you going?’ Michael asked bemused.

‘To tell security to arrest Locke on sight.’ Marella said continuing to walk to the door. She paused when she had the handle in her hand and turned back to look at him. ‘I’m not taking any chances on losing another Airwolf.’

Michael nodded. He stared at the wooden door for a long time after she had left. What the hell had happened to Locke?

—

Saint John smiled at the sight of the brunette vacuuming out the Jet Ranger. He walked over and nudged her arm to get her attention. He tried hard not to notice the way her eyes did a double take before the understanding that he wasn’t their father asserted itself and she smiled at him.

‘Here.’ Saint John offered her a mug.

Sarah switched off the vacuum cleaner and accepted the drink. ‘Thanks.’

‘I even got you a new mug.’ Saint John said gesturing at it.

She glanced at the design which proclaimed she was the world’s best sister. Her smile widened. ‘I like it.’

‘Well, you are my favourite sister.’ Saint John said with a grin.

‘I’m your only sister.’ Sarah said laughing.

‘Well, there is that.’ Saint John pushed his hands in the pockets of his jeans. ‘I just want you to feel welcome here.’

‘I do.’ Sarah replied reaching out to touch his arm gently. ‘Thank you for giving me a job,’ she raised her drink, ‘and the mug.’

‘My pleasure.’ Saint John leaned against the side of the helicopter as Sarah sat in the cockpit doorway to drink her coffee. ‘I’m really glad you decided to come and work here.’

‘Me too.’ Sarah said. ‘It’s a really good set-up.’

‘That’s more down to Jo than me.’ Saint John admitted. ‘She organised everything after Dom died.’

‘You recently became a half-owner though, right?’ Sarah checked.

Saint John nodded and folded his arms across his chest. ‘I wanted out of the spy business.’

‘How did you get into it?’ Sarah asked curious.

‘I got approached when my Special Forces unit was disbanded.’ Saint John said. ‘It seemed like a way to keep on doing what I did best.’ He gave a short laugh. ‘Or to keep running.’

‘I know all about that.’ Sarah commented.

‘What happened? I mean if you don’t mind…’

‘I don’t mind.’ Sarah said quickly. She shrugged. ‘Mom and Dad were always over-protective with me and Seb. I didn’t really understand why and even when they explained it, it didn’t make sense to me. In fact, if anything finding out the truth made it worse.’

‘Because they’d been lying to you.’ Saint John surmised.

‘Yeah.’ Sarah winced. ‘I rebelled big time. I broke all the rules they set, did my best to get into as much trouble as I could and finally I ran away.’ She took a sip of her drink. ‘I just felt trapped.’

‘I can understand that.’ Saint John admitted.

‘Is that why you joined the army?’ Sarah asked.

‘In a way.’ Saint John allowed. ‘Although I think it was more the reason why I stayed away once the war was over.’

‘That had to be tough on you.’ Sarah sympathised.

‘It was tougher on String.’ Saint John said bluntly.

Sarah bit her lip. ‘When I had Chris, I suddenly realised what affect my running off must have had on my parents.’

‘That’s when you went back and tried to find them?’ Saint John asked.

She nodded. ‘Only they’d moved on.’ She couldn’t keep the forlorn note out of her voice; the way she had felt so alone when she’d knocked on the door and been told her parents weren’t there.

Saint John shook his head. ‘I can’t understand that. It just doesn’t sound like the parents I knew.’

‘Things change.’ Sarah pointed out. ‘They changed, I guess, after thinking they’d lost you and String, being on the run, always having to hide.’ She sighed. ‘I didn’t blame them; not really. I mean the way I was when I left…’ she shrugged, ‘I was really horrible to them.’

‘You didn’t have the best relationship with our Dad.’ Saint John guessed.

‘No.’ Sarah agreed gently.

‘That’s why you’re having problems with me,’ Saint John concluded, ‘because I look like him.’

‘You look and sound an awful lot like him,’ Sarah said truthfully, ‘but the more time I spend around you, the more I notice the differences.’

‘Then we’ll have to spend more time around each other.’ Saint John said with a smile.

‘I’d like that.’ Sarah said.

A noise at the doorway had them both turning to look and they smiled as Jo entered the hangar. She was in flight overalls with her blonde hair tied back in a ponytail and hidden by a baseball cap.

‘Hey.’ Saint John greeted her with a hug and a kiss as Sarah mentally waved goodbye to her alone time with her brother.

Jo returned Saint John’s greeting and tried hard not to feel jealous at finding him in a deep discussion with his sister. ‘So what were you guys talking about so seriously?’

‘Stuff.’ Saint John said covering with a smile.

Jo gestured at the mug Sarah held. ‘Is there any more of that coffee?’

‘Nope, that was the last.’ Saint John said keeping his arm around her shoulders.

‘Sorry.’ Sarah said weakly.

Jo attempted a friendly smile. ‘Not your fault. I guess I’ll go make some more.’ She patted Saint John’s stomach and walked quickly away to the office. She grabbed the coffee pot and headed for the small kitchen. She was filling the carafe with water when she felt hands sliding around her waist and lips at her neck. ‘That had better be you, Saint John.’ She murmured as she tilted her neck to give him better access. A second later she turned around in his arms and kissed him. They were both breathing deeply when they parted.

‘What was that for?’ Jo asked.

Saint John shrugged, his eyes twinkling. ‘I couldn’t resist you.’

She forced a smile. The physical side of their relationship was great but she was beginning to wonder if Saint John was ever going to allow her into his thoughts and his feelings. Caitlin had called it emotional intimacy. Her fingers worried at the button on his shirt. Caitlin had also warned her it would take time to develop but Jo could admit to herself that she was impatient especially when she saw Saint John developing a relationship with another woman. Intellectually, she knew it was different; Sarah was his sister but emotionally, she hated that he was spending time with her and connecting with her in a way he seemed not to be ready to do with her.

‘Hey.’ Saint John nudged her chin up forcing her to look at him. ‘You OK?’

She nodded.

‘It’s been a little crazy around here with finding Sarah and everything, huh?’ Saint John said.

‘A little.’ Jo admitted. They had barely been together a week when they had found Sarah; the next week had been spent at the cabin and even the past week had involved spending every evening there as Saint John made an effort to get to know his sister.

‘How about we spend the evening alone?’ Saint John suggested. ‘Just the two of us? I’ll cook; nice bottle of wine; candle-lit dinner…what d’ya say?’

Her eyes opened wide in delighted pleasure. ‘Sounds good.’ She reached up and kissed him.

The sound of the phone ringing in the office separated them.

‘I’ll get that.’ Saint John said as he dropped another quick kiss on her lips.

She could hear him faintly as she completed her task; he was talking to Hawke. She wondered absently what Saint John’s brother wanted as she made her way back to the coffee machine in the office to fill it with the water she had collected.

‘No, it’s no problem.’ Saint John said into the phone. ‘No, I agree. Sarah shouldn’t be on her own up at the cabin. No, no. Jo and I will stay up there tonight.’

She turned around in surprise.

‘OK. Take care and good luck with it.’ Saint John dropped the receiver back into the cradle.

”Jo and I will stay up there tonight.” Jo repeated folding her arms. ‘I guess our romantic evening for two just disappeared huh?’

Saint John gave her a sheepish look and rubbed the back of his neck. ‘They have a mission. They’re going to be away overnight and Hawke didn’t think it was a good idea for Sarah to stay alone at the cabin.’

‘I see; so our night together gets cancelled without so much as a discussion.’ Jo retorted. She sighed and turned back to the coffee machine and continued with her task in short, jerky motions.

‘You’re angry.’ Saint John said accusatorily.

‘I’m not angry.’ She denied slapping the on button on the machine.

‘Why are you angry?’

Jo whirled around to face him again. Saint John was standing by the desk with his hands on his hips. There was a hint of temper in his hazel eyes which infuriated her. Why was he upset? ‘I said I’m not angry.’

‘Well, you’re sure doing a good impression of it.’ Saint John snapped back. He gestured at the open office doorway into the hangar. ‘Sarah’s, and Chris’s, safety has to come first…’

‘And I come last.’ Jo blurted out.

Saint John was bemused. ‘No! Of course not.’

‘Really?’ Jo waved her hand at him. ‘When have you put me first in the last couple of weeks? When?’

‘Well…’

‘I’ll tell you when; you haven’t.’ She said. ‘You haven’t even discussed any of it with me; not the decision to go off and find her with just String, whether we should have stayed at the cabin the first week back, the fact that we’ve spent all our time there since and offering her the job? I’m part owner; I should have been consulted.’

The words fell out of her mouth in a torrent leaving Saint John feeling adrift. ‘Why haven’t you said anything?’

‘I didn’t think I needed to say anything. I’m your girlfriend. I deserve a little consideration.’

‘Consideration?’ Saint John felt his own temper spark. ‘I’ve considered you every day! If I hadn’t, I would have spent some time with my sister alone this last couple of weeks.’

‘What is that supposed to mean?’ Jo demanded, her eyes flashing.

‘It means I didn’t expect to have such a clingy girlfriend.’ Saint John shot back.

‘Clingy?’ Her voice was barely a squeak. ‘Maybe I wouldn’t have to be clingy if you actually confided in me or talked to me like you do Sarah.’

‘Oh my God.’ Saint John said. ‘You’re jealous of her!’

‘I’m not…’

‘She’s my sister!’ Saint John yelled.

‘You know what, forget it! Just forget the whole damned thing!’ Jo shouted.

Saint John physically reeled backwards.

‘Am I interrupting?’

The two of them spun round to the door. Jason Locke looked back at them. The African-American agent was leaning against the door post, his arms folded over his light brown suit, his dark eyes concerned.

Jo glanced over at Saint John, the colour fading from his cheeks. ‘No, Jason. You’re not interrupting.’

Saint John remained silent.

‘Excuse me,’ Jo continued feeling the tears starting to press against the back of her throat and her eyes, ‘I have to prepare a chopper for a flight lesson.’ She headed out and stopped to place a light kiss on Locke’s cheek before she hurried from the hangar.

Locke straightened and took a step into the office. He closed the door behind him. ‘That didn’t look pretty.’

‘That’s because it wasn’t.’ Saint John admitted running his hands over his face. He gave a deep sigh and shook himself mentally. His eyes settled on his friend and roamed over the relaxed features. ‘You look good.’

‘Yeah,’ Locke smiled, ‘I guess not having to worry about Airwolf anymore has done wonders for my stress levels.’

Saint John smiled. ‘I thought you were in New York.’

‘Actually I came back for a reason.’ Locke sobered. ‘I need your help.’

Saint John gestured at a free chair and sank onto the desk.

Locke took a seat and clasped his hands together. ‘Twenty-four hours ago, I met with one of Sterling’s lieutenants and he told me something worrying.’ He paused.

Saint John frowned. ‘Don’t keep me in suspense.’

‘ Sterling made a deal with Archangel.’ Locke said.

‘What!’ Saint John stared at his friend. His own relationship with Michael was a little rocky. He had set his distrust of the spy aside because of his brother’s friendship with the other man and although Michael had done a great deal to help the brothers’ search for their family, that distrust hadn’t gone away completely. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Michael’s been working to regain control of the Airwolf project ever since the Company took over the FIRM.’ Locke explained. ‘He was really clever. He worked out his political strategy with an ex-NSA agent called Robert Delaney. It was a good alliance. As you know Delaney was part of the cross-agency taskforce assigned to recover Airwolf at the back end of 1985.’

‘Nobody would suspect them of being in league together.’ Saint John surmised.

‘Exactly.’ Locke nodded. ‘Delaney was responsible for prepping the political side of the deal leaving Michael responsible for ensuring there was enough doubt about the Company’s handling of the ongoing Airwolf file to enable Delaney to argue for a change.’

‘He needed examples where we were failing.’ Saint John filled in.

‘Unfortunately, we were doing a good job.’ Locke scowled. ‘So he had to create something.’

‘Which is when he made his deal with Sterling.’ Saint John shook his head and looked at the ceiling. ‘That was when Sterling grabbed you in Paris.’

‘I swear, Saint John, I don’t think I ever told them about the Lair. Afterwards, when I was rescued I second guessed myself, figured I must have told them in some torture session that I couldn’t remember.’ Locke caught and held his gaze. ‘But if I’m right,’ he pointed at Saint John, ‘if I didn’t tell them, who did?’

Saint John sighed. ‘Michael gave them the coordinates.’

‘And got to play the hero,’ Locke pointed out, ‘because he made a deal with Evan to take over the mission.’

Saint John threw up his hands and got to his feet. ‘Why didn’t I see it?’

‘Because he was careful.’ Locke said. ‘On the second attempt, he even played the odds with your brother’s flying ability on that crash. Tell me; who supposedly worked the bad guys plan out and had you return to camp?’

It had been Michael, Saint John thought. ‘This doesn’t make sense.’ He said as he stared out at the bustling airfield unseeingly. ‘When we were talking about taking down the Cordelli’s, Michael agreed we needed to put Sterling away.’

‘Did he?’ Locke said. ‘Did he really?’

Saint John flashed back to the conversation in Michael’s office.

‘The original plan was to find someway of taking down the Cordelli’s to enable your family to come out of hiding.’ Michael said. ‘ Sterling is a rival of the Cordelli’s…’

‘You want to do a deal.’ His brother answered.

It was Jo who had concluded that Michael intended to offer Sterling the Cordelli’s territory in exchange of his backing off Airwolf.

Michael had explained how it would work but they had challenged him, questioned letting Sterling go…it was String who had stepped in…

‘Actually I don’t think offering Sterling a deal was Michael’s plan.’ Hawke said slowly.

‘We make the deal with the Cordelli’s.’ Caitlin sighed and crossed her arms over the checked cotton shirt she wore.

‘Sterling’s territory for them leaving us alone?’ Saint John remembered saying…

‘Damn. This is going to kill String.’ Saint John murmured turning back to him.

‘I know but all we have at the moment is the word of one of Sterling’s men told to me on an undercover op.’ Locke said. ‘We need evidence, hard evidence.’

‘How do we get it?’ Saint John asked.

Locke smiled slowly. ‘I think I might know but I’m going to need your help.’

‘You’ve got it.’ Saint John said. He frowned. ‘How long will this take?’

‘A couple of hours.’ Locke said rising and fastening his jacket. ‘We should leave now though.’

‘Great.’ Saint John said. ‘Let’s go.’

They walked out into the hangar. Saint John interrupted Sarah who had resumed her vacuuming duty.

‘I’m going out for a couple of hours.’

‘OK.’ Sarah looked curiously at Locke.

‘Don’t worry.’ Saint John smiled tightly. ‘I’ll be back before you know it. Hawke’s away on a mission so it’s just you, me and Chris tonight.’ He patted her shoulder and headed out of the hangar. He glanced over at the Santini Air Jet Ranger where Jo was setting up for her lesson. Her back was a tense line and Saint John decided against walking over to her.

Jo heard the car doors slam and unwillingly looked over as the engine gunned and the car squealed away. She slumped against the helicopter and watched the vehicle disappear.

‘Who was that?’

Jo jerked upright at the sound of Sarah’s voice just behind her. ‘Jason. Jason Locke. He’s a friend of ours.’ She said returning to her task of cleaning the chopper.

‘Is it usual for them to take off like that?’ Sarah asked frowning. She could feel a tug between her shoulder blades; an itch that nagged at her that something was wrong.

‘ Saint John believes in helping his friends.’ Jo said shortly.

Sarah looked at the other woman who was studiously keeping her attention on the helicopter. ‘Jo, I couldn’t help but overhear your argument before…’

‘It’s none of your business!’ Jo snapped.

Sarah took a deep breath. ‘I know that. What I’m trying to say is…’

‘That’s my lesson now.’ Jo said pointing at the car pulling up in front of the Santini Air hangar. ‘Finish this for me, will you? And when you’re done, watch the office.’

Sarah completed removing the rubbish from the helicopter. She watched Jo leave with her student before she headed into the hangar. She reached into her pocket and drew out a piece of paper. It had a number that Hawke had scribbled down for her if there was an emergency. She bit her lip and hesitated. Maybe she was over-reacting. She’d wait, she decided. After all, Saint John had said he’d only be gone a couple of hours. She sighed and hoped she’d made the right decision.

—

‘Sir, there’s a Sarah Hawke on the line for you.’

Michael frowned at the phone. He had settled in for a long session reading a stack of intelligence reports; his jacket was hung carelessly on the back of his chair, his shirt sleeves were rolled up and his tie loosened. The coffee in the china cup on his desk had long gone cold. He wondered what Hawke’s sister could possibly want; there was only one way to find out. ‘Put her through, Gail.’ A moment later, he heard the click as the line switched. ‘Sarah?’

‘Michael, I’m sorry to disturb you but I didn’t know who else to call.’ Sarah hurried out the apology.

‘That’s OK.’ Michael said calmly. ‘What’s the problem?’

‘It’s Saint John.’ Sarah said trying hard not to feel like she was telling tales out of school. ‘He disappeared a little while ago with a friend of his and he hasn’t come back yet. I know I’m probably over-reacting but he did say he’d be back a couple of hours ago and…’ she closed her eyes and hoped he wouldn’t laugh at her, ‘and I have a real bad feeling.’

Michael leaned forward, his own senses suddenly on alert. ‘Well, I’ve learnt it’s never a good thing when a Hawke has a bad feeling.’

Sarah took a deep breath in relief. ‘So you believe me?’

‘I believe you.’ He assured her. ‘Do you know who the friend was?’

‘Jo said his name was Jason Locke.’

Michael froze. ‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes.’ Sarah frowned. ‘Something’s wrong, isn’t it?’

‘No, no.’ Michael hastened to reassure her. ‘I’m sure it’s fine. I just thought Locke wasn’t in LA right now. Look, do you know where they went?’

‘No,’ Sarah admitted, ‘but I do have the license plate number of the car they used. Will that help?’

‘It will.’ Michael jotted it down as she reeled off the combination of numbers and letters. ‘That’s great.’

‘Is there anyway I can help?’ Sarah asked anxiously.

‘The best thing you can do is sit tight.’ Michael advised. ‘I’ll follow up on this but I wouldn’t worry, it’s probably nothing more than Saint John and Locke getting a little delayed.’

‘And what about my bad feeling?’ Sarah pointed out.

‘Well, in case that’s true, I’m going to send an agent over to stay with you. It’s purely precautionary just in case something is wrong.’ Michael said.

‘Right.’ Sarah’s disbelief was clear.

‘I’ll be in touch.’ Michael promised. He hung up before she could say anything else and glanced at his watch. There was a chance that he might be able to catch Hawke before the communications black zone if he hurried. He left his jacket and paused only to snag his wooden cane from the side of his desk before he charged out of his office. He stopped to order Gail to make the arrangements for one of their operatives to perform bodyguard duty at Santini Air before he raced to the control room. He wasn’t surprised to find Marella there consulting with their expert on Airwolf’s computer programming, Karen Hansen.

‘Michael.’ Marella looked up and smiled at him assuming he had come for a progress report. ‘You’ll be pleased to know everything is proceeding as planned.’

‘I need to contact Hawke.’ Michael said without preamble moving to stand next to her.

Marella’s brow creased in concern. ‘They entered the communications black-out zone a couple of minutes ago.’

‘Damn.’ Michael muttered. He sighed realising the interested looks he was garnering from the technicians around him. ‘I need to speak with you.’ He ushered her into a nearby briefing room.

‘What’s going on?’ Marella asked worried at his evident agitation.

‘Locke just turned up.’ Michael informed her brusquely.

‘Where?’

‘Santini Air.’ Michael said leaning on the polished table. ‘Sarah called. Apparently he turned up and made off with Saint John. They were supposed to arrive back a couple of hours ago but haven’t arrived back yet hence…’

Marella nodded understandingly. ‘Was Saint John under duress when he went with Locke?’

‘It doesn’t look like it.’ Michael sighed, his good eye meeting Marella’s dark gaze. ‘Sarah had a bad feeling about it and if her bad feelings are anything like Hawke’s…’

‘Then Saint John’s in a lot of trouble.’ Marella murmured. She folded her arms across her white silk blouse. ‘You think Locke has been compromised.’

It was a statement not a question but Michael nodded anyway. ‘I think so.’

‘Any clue as to where he took Saint John?’ Marella asked.

Michael handed her the note on which he’d scribbled the license plate. ‘Sarah got that.’

‘Clever girl.’ Marella noted.

‘She is a Hawke.’ Michael said wryly. ‘We need to track down where…’

There was a sharp rap on the door and Karen stuck her head into the room, her red bob swinging around her chin. ‘Michael, sorry to interrupt, but your office is routing an urgent call for you to this phone.’

The conference phone on the table began to ring as she finished and Michael dismissed her with a brief word of thanks before he picked up. ‘ Archangel.’

‘I have Agent Locke on the line for you, sir.’ Gail said.

Michael stiffened and mouthed ‘Locke’ at Marella. ‘Put him through.’ He said to his assistant as he shifted so Marella could listen in to the conversation.

‘Michael.’ Locke greeted him calmly.

‘Locke, I was getting worried.’ Michael replied guardedly.

‘I know I’m sorry about that but I received some information from my meeting with Sterling’s man that I needed to check out.’

‘Without reporting in?’ Michael said sceptically.

‘It concerned the Hawkes.’ Locke sighed. ‘Look, we need to meet and discuss this; it’s bad.’

‘Do you want me to come to New York?’ Michael asked pretending to be unaware of Locke’s whereabouts.

‘I’m in LA.’ Locke replied.

‘Where?’ Michael scribbled the address down on the pad of paper Marella handed to him. ‘When?’

‘An hour from now. I’ll be outside the café having coffee; join me. Come alone.’ Locke said.

‘I’ll be there.’ Michael promised.

The dull tone signalled Locke had hung up.

‘It’s a trap.’ Marella said.

‘Undoubtedly.’ Michael brushed his moustache with a finger as he considered the address; a busy street in downtown LA. ‘He’s obviously unaware that I know about his trip to Santini Air.’

‘If Locke has been compromised,’ Marella continued, ‘this has to be Sterling making another play for Airwolf.’

‘Agreed.’ Michael pointed at her. ‘He grabs Saint John first…’

‘So he has a pilot.’

‘And then me.’ Michael frowned. ‘Why?’

‘So there’s nobody to rein in Hawke.’ Marella suggested. ‘Maybe even as an additional incentive for Hawke to deliver Airwolf.’

‘There is one way to find out.’ Michael noted. He checked his watch. ‘I’d better get going.’

‘I’ll arrange for back-up to go ahead to the meeting site and for your car.’ Marella said.

‘No back-up.’ Michael said.

‘Michael…’

‘He wants me there alone and I’m not placing Saint John at risk; Hawke would kill me himself.’ Michael pointed out. ‘Besides our best option of finding Saint John is for Locke to take me wherever it was that he took Saint John.’

Marella sighed. ‘At least wear a tracer.’

‘Agreed.’ Michael looked at his watch again. ‘I’ll meet you out front with the car in…fifteen minutes.’

She nodded.

It didn’t take Michael long to change into casual clothes; his all-white garb was too obvious for a supposedly inconspicuous meeting between two spies on an ordinary street. His jeans felt a little stiff and unfamiliar, as did the checked shirt and light jacket but Michael pretended not to notice as he made his way out of the front door.

Marella pushed off the beige sedan. ‘Are you sure about this?’

‘I’ll be wearing the tracer as soon as Hawke exits Russia, contact him. Airwolf can track me down if we haven’t managed to affect an escape ourselves.’

‘But will you still be alive by then?’ Marella said worriedly.

Michael rested his hands on her shoulders and pulled her in for a quick hug. ‘They want Airwolf; they’ll have to keep us alive if they want Hawke to deliver her.’

Marella returned his hug. She knew he was knowingly walking into a trap; knew that he had done so before as an operative and that she had to trust in his ability to stay alive no matter how much she wanted to plead with him to stay. She stepped back. She reached into the pocket of her jacket and pulled out a watch. Michael replaced his with the one she held. She handed him the car key and reached back into her pocket drawing out a small leather case. ‘I took the liberty of procuring this.’

‘The anti-brainwashing serum.’ Michael noted.

‘If Locke has been brain washed and not just turned…’ she shrugged and pushed her hands into her pockets. ‘It might help.’

‘Thank you.’ He leaned forward and brushed his lips lightly over hers. ‘I love you.’

‘I love you too.’ Marella said her voice choking with unexpected tears.

‘Tell Angelina…’ Michael sighed; he had no idea what he wanted her to tell his eleven year old daughter. ‘Tell her I love her and will be home soon.’

‘I’ll tell her.’ Marella promised.

Michael gave her another kiss and got in the car. He wouldn’t say goodbye to her; it wasn’t goodbye. A moment later he was driving away. He glanced in the rear view mirror and his heart skipped a beat; she was stood watching his car disappear.

He made good time to the meeting location, only stopping to secret the serum on his person. He parked the car down the street and walked up to the café. He could see Locke was already sat outside waiting, reading a newspaper. Michael scanned the area with the experienced eye of skilled operative. There was no sign of Saint John but he would bet any money that the two goons on the table next to Locke were there for additional incentive for Michael to cooperate. He pretended not to notice them as he slid into the available chair at Locke’s table.

Locke snapped his paper and folded it. He placed it on the table as a waitress placed two cups of coffee down in front of them. ‘I took the liberty of ordering.’

‘Thank you.’ Michael said.

‘You really did come alone.’ Locke said his dark eyes sliding over the busy street. ‘I’m impressed.’ He took a sip of his drink.

‘You mentioned you had sensitive information.’ Michael said picking up his coffee.

‘I know about your deal with Sterling.’ Locke said.

Michael frowned. ‘What deal?’

‘You really thought nobody would find out about it.’ Locke said with a humourless laugh.

‘I really don’t know what you’re talking about.’ Michael said stiffly taking another gulp of coffee.

‘Sure.’ Locke reached into his pocket and brought out a photo. ‘You care to explain.’

Michael looked at the picture. It was of himself and Sterling taken at a charity gala dinner in Washington at the start of the year. Sterling had been a guest of honour; he’d been told to attend by the Company. He hadn’t realised they had been pictured together. ‘I spoke with him for a sum total of two minutes, Locke. It was a charity event.’

‘And yet in all the time we’ve known Sterling was behind the attacks on the Airwolf team, you never felt it relevant to mention you know the guy?’ Locke asked in disbelief.

‘Like I said, I barely said two words to the man at a dinner attended by over three hundred Washington digni..dignitaries.’ Michael frowned at his slurred speech and looked down at his coffee. His eye snapped back to Locke. ‘You drugged it.’

‘You’ve been out of the field too long, Michael.’ Locke said with a sigh raising his own cup with smug satisfaction.

Michael knew he should make some attempt to get away to make the meeting believable from Locke’s perspective. He staggered to his feet and took a stumbling step away from the table. His legs wouldn’t work properly and he almost fell. Locke caught him and he could dimly hear him tell the other diners that his friend wasn’t well. Michael tried to think through the fog…did Locke truly believe that Michael had made a deal with Sterling or was the other man brainwashed? It was his last thought before everything went black.

—

The first thing Michael noticed when he came to was the pounding headache he had above his good eye. His hand went automatically to his head without thought which he figured was a good thing because actual thought would have made the headache worse. He groaned and rolled over into a sitting position. His glasses were missing and he worriedly checked to ensure the eye-patch was in place and gave a sigh of relief to find it intact. He began to do an inventory; himself first. Apparently, they’d removed his glasses, the car key that had been in his pocket and his watch. He smiled ruefully. Locke was no doubt aware that the watch was the most likely location for the tracer. Physically, apart from the headache, he seemed no worse for wear. He eased his shoes off and levered off the heels revealing the two syringes and serum vials he had secreted there. He took them out and hid them in his pillow within easy reach. He replaced the heels and put his shoes back on before sitting back.

So where was he? The room was small, little more than a cell. The only window to his left had metal bars that criss-crossed it. There was a sturdy lock on the door. He was sitting on a metal cot with a thin mattress; there was a second cot across the room. Both had a blanket neatly folded at one end, a thin pillow at the other. There was a sink on the opposite wall by the window; a bucket beneath it; obviously his captors had no intention of letting him out for toilet breaks. They were the only objects in the room and he was the only person; no Saint John. He didn’t know if that was good news or bad news.

‘Bad news.’

Michael’s head jerked up. The late Dominic Santini sat on the cot opposite him. He looked very much like he had done in life; same blue shiny jacket, same plain shirt and brown pants, same gap-toothed smile and wispy grey hair. He looked remarkably relaxed; he was sat so his back was flush with the wall, legs crossed at the ankle dangling a foot off the floor, hands folded over his substantial belly. It wasn’t the first time Dom’s ghost had appeared to him. The first time Michael had thought he was hallucinating, had almost convinced himself when it had happened a second time. A large part of Michael hoped Dom would stop haunting him one day; a larger part of him that he would never admit to hoped Dom never would.

‘Well, if you’re here, I must be in trouble.’ Michael commented dryly.

Dom nodded. ”Fraid so.’ He said cheerfully.

‘You don’t need to sound so pleased about it.’ Michael said.

‘You’ve done a brave thing.’ Dom said sobering. His dark eyes caught Michael. ‘I appreciate you trying to help Saint John like this.’

‘I’d agree with you except the plan seems to have back-fired.’ Michael said. ‘I seem to be alone.’ He waved at Dom. ‘Apart from you.’

‘He’s here.’ Dom confirmed.

Michael raised an eyebrow. ‘That’s a fairly direct answer from you.’

Dom shrugged. ‘You’ll find out soon enough.’

‘I don’t suppose you want to tell me whether Locke’s really brainwashed or not.’ Michael sighed.

‘You planning to use that serum stuff on him?’ Dom asked. ‘The same stuff Cait used on String that time?’

Michael nodded.

‘Isn’t that just as likely to kill him?’ Dom queried seeming surprised.

‘We’ve refined it a great deal since Caitlin had to use it on Hawke.’ Michael said. ‘It’ll only kill Locke if he’s not brainwashed when he’s injected with it.’

‘Ah.’ Dom said sagely.

‘So is he or isn’t he?’ Michael asked.

‘Is he or isn’t he what?’ Dom said innocently.

‘You can’t tell me?’ Michael pressed. He caught the flicker of something across Dom’s face. ‘You don’t know!’ He said accusingly.

‘OK, OK, keep your hair on.’ Dom muttered. He sighed heavily. ‘Yes, I don’t know.’

‘That’s why you’re vague at times isn’t it?’ Michael shook his head and winced at the jab of pain which reminded him he had a headache. ‘It has nothing to do with blurring lines and not being able to tell me; you just don’t know.’

‘Sometimes that is true.’ Dom allowed.

Michael rubbed his head trying to ease the ache there. ‘Well, some use you are.’

‘How can you not know if Locke is brainwashed?’ Dom pointed out. ‘I would have thought that was obvious.’

‘Not as obvious as you’d think.’ Michael muttered.

‘Take me through it.’ Dom insisted.

‘I think there’s a good chance Locke thinks he’s doing the right thing.’ Michael sighed.

‘Why would he think that?’ Dom asked perplexed.

Michael sat forward and clasped his hands together resting his elbows on his knees. ‘We think a man called Matt Sterling is behind the attempts to get Airwolf; is behind this.’ He waved a hand vaguely to suggest the situation. ‘Locke has a photo of me with Sterling in Washington.’

‘You know the guy?’ Dom’s eyebrows shot up.

‘It was one of those social events I was forced into attending.’ Michael shot back defensively. ‘ Sterling’s legitimate face is as a man who has lived the American dream; he pulled himself out of the depths of Hell’s Kitchen and built himself a business empire. He’s well known for his philanthropy and charitable works. What the Washington socialites don’t know is that his whole business is built off the back of drug money care of the New York Mafia.’

‘So you were pictured with him at some fancy do?’ Dom clarified.

‘Yes. There must have been a photographer making the rounds.’ Michael rubbed his moustache. ‘I vaguely remember being introduced to him, making small talk about the charity for a couple of minutes and then we both moved on.’

Dom frowned. ‘OK, so why is Locke so worked up about this picture if it was that innocent?’

‘Someone’s told him I made a deal with Sterling.’ Michael said.

‘Did you?’

‘No!’ Michael retorted immediately.

Dom held his hands up in supplication. ‘I was only asking. It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve made a deal with the devil for the greater good, Michael.’

‘That’s true but not on this occasion.’ Michael said.

‘But Locke might think it is.’ Dom said sadly.

Michael spread his hands wide. ‘Look at it from his perspective; he’s presented with a picture of me talking with Sterling; he knows I wanted control of Airwolf. Why wouldn’t I make a deal to undermine his Airwolf team and make my team look good?’

‘You would never have agreed to those attacks though.’ Dom said firmly. ‘You would never have risked revealing the Lair in the first one, or putting Marella and Angelina, not to mention yourself, in danger in the second.’

‘Thank you.’ Michael said wryly. ‘I think.’

Dom harrumphed. ‘I guess I could see how someone who doesn’t know you as well as I do might think otherwise.’

‘Locke might have trapped me for no other reason than to try to get me to confess so he can regain control of Airwolf himself.’ Michael said rising to his feet and pacing to the window. He peered through trying to see what was outside. The sight of the ocean stilled him. Wherever they were, they were on the coast.

‘Think about this, Michael.’ Dom said passionately. ‘If it were just you then that might make a lot of sense, but Saint John? Why would Locke grab Saint John if he wasn’t brainwashed?’

‘I don’t know.’ Michael admitted as he turned around. He found himself talking to an empty room. Dom had disappeared. ‘That’s really annoying you know.’ He muttered under his breath.

The key grated in the lock and Michael stayed back as the door burst open and two men hauled in an unconscious Saint John. He tried to move to help them lower the pilot gently onto the cot but was pushed back by one of the men. Warned, he didn’t make any attempt to approach again until the two men had gone and the door was locked behind them, even then he approached cautiously.

The pilot had been worked over with a ruthless efficiency that had Michael wincing and wondering if the same would happen to him. He took out a linen handkerchief from his jeans pocket and hurriedly wet it under the cold water tap. He dabbed at the blood on Saint John’s face before he rinsed the blood-stained cloth out; the water ran red. He lost count of how many times he repeated the exercise before Saint John’s face was clean. He placed the wet handkerchief over the most livid of bruises and stepped back. He had done what he could to make the other man comfortable; rolling him into a recovery position, covering him with a blanket. He was certain Saint John had a couple of broken ribs; his left arm looked like a suspected fracture. Michael had made a makeshift sling from a pillow-case to immobilise the arm; there was nothing he could do for the ribs. Worse, there were fresh needle marks on the inside of the unbroken arm; Saint John had been injected with something. Michael briefly speculated on what before he gave up that thread of thought. Hawke’s brother hadn’t stirred during any of Michael’s first aid.

Michael sat back down on his own cot and rubbed his eyes with a hand he was surprised to see was trembling.

‘He’s not looking so good, is he?’ Dom said quietly, appearing by Michael’s side.

‘No.’ Michael answered keeping his voice low. ‘No, he’s not looking so good.’ He was beginning to question whether his original assumption that they would keep them alive to bait a trap for Hawke and Airwolf was right.

‘You’ll get the two of you out of this, Michael.’ Dom assured him seeing the doubt race across Michael’s pale features.

The spy turned to his former sparring partner. ‘Is that a guarantee, Dom, or something else you don’t know for certain?’

Dom remained silent and Michael sighed.

‘Yeah,’ he said, ‘that’s what I figured.’

—

Sarah frowned as the car pulled up in front of the Santini Air hangar. She smiled at the agent Michael had sent over; a friendly older woman called Hannah.

‘Thanks so much for the ride.’ Sarah said as she unhooked her seatbelt.

‘My pleasure.’ Hannah finished her quick check of the immediate area to flash a grin at her charge.

‘Are you going to drive us every day?’ Chris asked excitedly.

Sarah and Hannah turned to the young boy in the back.

‘Not every day.’ Sarah said. ‘Say thank you to Hannah.’

Chris rolled his eyes but complied with his mother’s request.

Hannah ruffled his hair. ‘They’re so cute at this age.’ She said to Sarah. ‘Enjoy it while it lasts.’

‘You have kids?’ Sarah asked interested.

‘Two boys, both grown now.’ Hannah replied.

Sarah’s eyes travelled over the other woman; with her elegantly arranged blonde hair, bright green eyes and ready smile, Hannah barely looked older than herself, certainly not old enough to have grown children. She pushed the thought away and with another smile, got out of the car and opened the back passenger seat to let Chris out. He took her hand as they walked back into the air service.

Jo barely looked up as Sarah settled Chris at the spare desk with some pens and paper for him to draw on. The two women had scarcely spoken to each other since their clash when Saint John had left except to exchange information on the running of the air service.

Sarah approached Jo warily. ‘He’s still not back?’

‘No.’ Jo said shortly, not looking away from the computer monitor.

‘I’ll finish tidying the hangar then.’ Sarah said trying hard to keep her annoyance out of her voice. She repressed her sigh as Jo remained silent. She managed a reassuring smile for Chris who was looking over at her in concern before she headed out of the office.

Jo continued to type and tried to ignore the small voice in her head that told her she was acting like a spoilt brat. As much as she hated to admit it, Sarah had done a good job and had put in a solid day’s effort. She was a skilled mechanic and her experience of air services had ensured the office had ran like a dream while Jo had been out. She had even followed Jo’s filing system to the letter.

Jo frowned as her fingers slowed on the keyboard. She was also beginning to think that Sarah’s concern for Saint John wasn’t misplaced either. When he hadn’t come back immediately after a couple of hours, Jo hadn’t thought much about it. She had been annoyed to learn Sarah had called Michael and that an agent had turned up to protect them while Michael investigated. She simply figured Saint John was sulking about their argument. Her mind shied away from examining that too closely. But his continued absence without any word especially when he was supposed to spend the night at the cabin with his sister and nephew…that was unusual and Jo was beginning to get worried.

‘Why are you being mean to my Mom?’

The question caught her by surprise and her head shot up to stare at the young boy glaring at her from the opposite desk. ‘I’m not being mean.’ She denied automatically even as she flushed bright red.

‘Yes you are.’

‘No I’m not.’

‘Are.’

‘Not.’ Jo sighed hearing her childish answer and wondered how she’d been pulled into the back and forth argument so quickly.

‘Are.’ Chris muttered as he lowered his blue eyes to his drawing.

Jo reminded herself she was the adult. ‘I’m not being mean to your Mom.’

He simply stared at her in disbelief.

‘I’ll prove it to you.’ Jo got up and poured Sarah a mug of coffee. ‘See. I’m going to take her a drink.’

‘What about a cookie?’ Chris said.

Jo stared at him for a moment before she picked up the tin next to the coffee pot and walked out with it. She hesitated outside the office but straightened her shoulders. She probably did owe Sarah an apology for the way she had acted. She spotted the younger woman cleaning the tools on the other side of the hangar and headed over. Sarah looked up hearing her approach and Jo felt guilty at the surprised look in the blue eyes that briefly glanced at her before they returned to the tools.

‘Coffee?’ Jo offered.

Sarah took the mug from her a little warily. ‘Thank you.’

‘Cookie?’

‘No, thank you.’ Sarah shook her head.

Jo put the cookie tin down on the workbench. ‘I’m sorry.’

Sarah looked at her questioningly.

‘I’m sorry about my stand-offish behaviour today,’ Jo began, ‘I’m sorry that you overheard my argument with your brother.’ She sighed. ‘And I’m sorry I haven’t been the most welcoming since you came home.’

Sarah was taken aback at the sincerity gleaming in Jo’s eyes. ‘Well, thank you.’

Jo nodded. ‘You did a good job today.’

‘You have a good system.’ Sarah said gently.

A faint blush heated Jo’s cheeks at the compliment. She turned to leave and picked up the tin. ‘You sure you don’t want one?’

‘OK,’ Sarah said gesturing, ‘if you join me.’

‘I could do with a cookie.’ Jo admitted. She eagerly opened the tin and offered it first to Sarah before snagging a chocolate chip cookie for herself. She perched on the workbench to eat it. ‘I really am sorry.’ She said after swallowing a first mouthful.

‘I can understand,’ Sarah said generously. ‘I mean you and Saint John just got together. It’s natural you’d want to spend time together without a pesky younger sister hanging around.’ She dipped her cookie into the coffee before shoving it quickly into her mouth.

‘It’s really not about you.’ Jo said.

Sarah looked at her sceptically.

‘OK, so I think this has been bad timing.’ Jo admitted. She waved her half-eaten cookie at Sarah. ‘It would have been nice to have had Saint John to myself for a while but I know how important it is to him that you’re home and I know you guys need to spend time together too.’ She winced. ‘I guess I haven’t given you much of that.’

The younger woman shrugged. ‘So if it’s not me, do you mind me asking what it is?’

Jo hesitated torn between the urge to confide and the belief that confiding in her partner’s sister wasn’t the best move.

‘Come on.’ Sarah encouraged her. ‘I might be able to help.’

‘I think this is something Saint John and I need to sort out on our own.’ Jo said finally. ‘But thanks.’

Sarah patted her arm. ‘No problem and you will work it out. You’re obviously crazy about each other.’

If only it were that simple, Jo thought folding her arms. ‘I hope so.’ She said out loud. ‘I hope he still wants to after what I said to him earlier.’

‘It was an argument. Everybody says stuff they don’t mean in an argument. I’m sure he understands that.’ Sarah said taking a gulp of her drink.

‘Maybe, I just hate how we left it.’ Jo murmured.

‘You’re beginning to worry about him too aren’t you?’ Sarah asked perceptively.

Jo sighed. ‘If he’s not back when you’re done putting these away, I think we should all head over to Red Star.’

‘Red Star?’

‘The base for the Airwolf project.’ Jo explained. ‘We can check up and see how far Michael’s got with tracking him down.’

‘Can we just turn up like that?’ Sarah asked worriedly. ‘Won’t they mind?’

‘I don’t care if they do.’ Jo said bluntly. ‘I want to know where he is.’

‘Me too.’ Sarah murmured.

Two sets of blue eyes met each other in mutual understanding.

—

‘That’s not going to work.’ Dom cautioned Michael as he tried to loosen a wire from the mesh that made up the flat underside of his bed.

Michael gave a grunt and yelped as his hand slipped and caught on an exposed screw. He stuffed the bleeding scratch into his mouth.

‘Now that had to hurt.’ Dom whistled.

Michael glared at him. ‘Don’t you have anything better to do?’

‘Nope.’ Dom said cheerfully.

‘Then how about helping?’ Michael snapped.

‘Hey! I’m a ghost, remember?’ Dom pointed out. ‘You’re the spy.’

A low moan from the cot opposite had them both whirling around to check on Saint John. The pilot was beginning to move as he dragged himself into consciousness.

Michael laid a hand on his shoulder. ‘Easy, Saint John.’

‘Michael?’ Saint John murmured blinking past his blurred vision to focus on the other man.

‘It’s me.’ Michael confirmed keeping his voice low. ‘You have a broken arm and some broken ribs. Just take it slow.’

Saint John groaned as he shifted into a sitting position with Michael’s help. He flinched at the pain in his chest and placed a tentative hand over his ribs; another jab of pain from the arm in the sling told him that it probably wasn’t a good idea to move it. He looked around the room in confusion. ‘Just you?’

Michael glanced around at the empty space and sighed. Obviously Dom had decided not to stick around. ‘Just me.’

‘I thought I heard voices.’ Saint John insisted.

‘I was talking to myself.’ Michael said easily. ‘How’s your head?’

‘Sore.’ Saint John said shortly. He pushed himself off the bed and swayed dangerously. Michael supported him and they made their way over to the sink where Saint John scooped water from the tap into his mouth thirstily. They made their way back to the bed.

Michael resumed his place on his own cot. ‘You up to telling me what happened?’ He probed gently.

‘Locke.’ Saint John said with disbelief. ‘He turned up at Santini Air with some story about how you had made a deal with Sterling to undermine us.’

Michael frowned. ‘And you believed him?’

‘Yes, I believed him.’ Saint John said defiantly. ‘What did you expect me to do?’

‘Trust me.’ Michael shot back. ‘And if not me, your brother.’

Saint John flushed and focused on getting through the rest of his story. ‘He asked me to go with him as back-up for a meeting to get some hard evidence.’ He gestured weakly. ‘The coffee must have been drugged. I woke up here and then they took me for questioning.’ He fell silent remembering the beating; the feel of fists and feet hitting him and Locke standing in the back watching, just watching.

‘They injected you with something.’ Michael prompted.

‘Sodium pentathol, I think.’ Saint John said. ‘Some kind of truth serum anyway.’

‘What did they want to know?’ Michael asked.

‘That’s just it,’ Saint John said grimacing in pain again, ‘they injected me with it and then started pounding on me without really asking me anything.’ He motioned at Michael. ‘What about you?’

‘Locke called me a few hours after grabbing you. As Sarah had already called to tell me about your disappearance with Locke…’

‘Sarah called you?’ Saint John asked surprised.

‘She had a bad feeling and as I’ve learned to listen to a Hawke when they say they have a bad feeling, I took her concern seriously.’ Michael sighed. ‘We were just about to try and track you down when Locke called asking to meet. He didn’t mention you but he wanted to talk about something he’d discovered when he’d met his contact in New York.’ He paused. ‘I figured it was the quickest way of finding you.’

Saint John’s eyebrows shot up. ‘You let yourself get captured?’

Michael stiffened at the incredulity. ‘It seemed like a good idea at the time.’

‘Yeah, great idea.’ Saint John said wryly. ‘I see you’re doing a bang-up job of rescuing me.’

‘Don’t worry,’ Michael replied curtly, ‘the next time, I won’t bother.’

They glared at each other.

‘Where’s String anyway? Didn’t you tell him what was going on?’ Saint John asked wondering why his brother hadn’t shown up if Michael knew about Locke.

‘He won’t be contactable until tomorrow morning.’ Michael said succinctly.

‘Great. Just great.’

‘If we work together we might be able to get out of this before he gets back.’ Michael pointed out.

‘When you have a plan, let me know.’ Saint John swung his legs up on the cot and eased himself into a prone position.

‘Do you think Locke’s brainwashed?’ Michael asked sensing the other man was about to slip back into unconsciousness.

‘Of course, he’s brainwashed.’ Saint John snapped. ‘My friend wouldn’t have stood by and let them beat me to a pulp the way…’ he stumbled to a stop realising he was unintentionally revealing something he would have preferred to have kept to himself.

Michael sighed. ‘I’m going to give you a syringe filled with a serum that will counteract the brainwashing. Whichever one of us gets an opportunity first should use it.’

‘Good idea.’ Saint John said sincerely as he felt the spy slip the syringe into his jacket pocket. For the first time since his capture he began to feel some hope.

Michael subsided back onto his own cot. ‘You should rest.’

Saint John gave a grunt but didn’t argue. He closed his eyes.

A few minutes later, Michael cleared his throat. ‘You know what I don’t get.’

‘That I’m supposed to be resting?’ Saint John said dryly.

‘Why grab both of us if they want Hawke to deliver Airwolf?’ Michael frowned. ‘They have to know grabbing you would have been enough to capture Hawke’s attention.’

Saint John sighed. ‘You’re right. It doesn’t make sense. Maybe they have something else planned for you.’

‘That’s comforting.’ Michael said sarcastically.

‘My pleasure.’ Saint John replied. ‘Can I get some sleep now?’

Michael sighed and moved to lie prone on his own bed. He closed his eye and wished Dom was with him again.

—

Hawke rolled his shoulders and tried to ignore the itch that had settled there. He really didn’t like this mission, he mused, as he peered through the binoculars from his position in the dense bushes at the edge of the complex at the perimeter guards. The last of the night was clinging to the Russian sky in the early morning but there was enough light cast from the artificial lamps the Russians had set up as part of their security system to illuminate the patrols, artillery and other general obstacles between them and the Russian Airwolf. He checked his watch. He wanted this mission done already.

‘What are you thinking?’ Mike asked his voice barely above a whisper.

Hawke glanced at the other man. He was his only companion; Caitlin was back with Airwolf in a safe location about a mile into the forest. He frowned and pointed at the fence. ‘Electrified.’

‘Yeah and have you seen the gate beyond that?’ Mike shook his head. ‘It’s computerised.’

‘Not to mention the two guards, automatic weapons, one dog.’ Hawke noted. His eyes narrowed on the perimeter towers. ‘Cannons at every compass point with two guards, one watching inside the fence, one watching outside.’

‘Anti-aircraft guns on the roof of each building. I’m counting three.’

‘Four.’ Hawke motioned at the far building. ‘There’s one there.’

‘You can’t possibly see that far.’ Mike said accusingly.

Hawke shrugged. ‘You sure about that?’ He teased.

Mike’s eyes narrowed on the other pilot. He had only been working with the original Airwolf team for a few weeks and he was never quite sure when Hawke was teasing him and when he was being serious; he was a difficult man to read. ‘No, I’m not falling for that one. Even you can’t see that far.’

Hawke’s lips twitched. ‘Every building in this section that we can see has an anti-aircraft gun. We should assume that one does too.’

‘Right.’ Mike accepted Hawke’s explanation readily.

Hawke sobered as he considered their options.

‘Do you have a plan?’ Mike asked lowering his binoculars.

‘Do you?’ shot back Hawke.

Mike hesitated for a moment wondering if the question was a test. Hawke and Caitlin had ostensibly been training him for the past few weeks, something he’d found a little bizarre at first given he’d been flying Airwolf missions for the better part of a year before he joined their team but he had come to realise with only a few lessons that he had a lot to learn.

Flying with Hawke was incredible; the pilot had a natural ability in the air and combined with Airwolf…Mike considered himself lucky just to be in the same cockpit. Caitlin was actually the better teacher; more patient and understanding than Hawke with mistakes, not that he’d tell Hawke that. As the silence stretched on, Mike rapidly concluded that it didn’t truly matter if Hawke was testing him or whether it was a commander asking for input; he was still waiting for an answer either way.

‘One man on the ground digs a hole under the fence,’ Mike began, ‘Airwolf creates a diversion taking out any guns or artillery that could hit the guy on the way from the fence to the gate; allows the man time to get under the fence and through the first perimeter.’ He gestured. ‘Airwolf overrides the computerised gate; the man on the ground may have to deal with the guards himself. Airwolf continues to take out targets that would eliminate the man before he reaches the Russian Airwolf. Once in the air, both machines can deal with the rest of the artillery.’

‘If the Russian bird is loaded.’ Hawke pointed out.

‘Otherwise Airwolf provides cover.’ Mike concluded.

Hawke frowned as he turned the idea over in his head. ‘Risky. The man on the ground could get shot or taken out at any time despite the air cover.’

‘True.’ Mike said. ‘But if they get taken out, Airwolf can still destroy the other bird and leave.’

‘So who’s the man on the ground?’ Hawke asked wryly.

Mike shrugged. ‘I’ll do it.’

‘You’ll do it?’ Hawke asked sceptically.

‘Sure. You and Caitlin have a kid to consider. Anyway, the two of you are a better combination in Airwolf for the diversion and air cover and besides, if I get captured rather than killed, I know the least about Airwolf if tortured.’

Hawke softened at Mike’s reasons to be the man on the ground. ‘You’ve thought about this a lot.’ He realised.

‘It has occurred to me before this mission.’ Mike admitted.

‘Hmmm.’ Hawke raised the binoculars again and frowned. The patrol was every ten minutes like clockwork. ‘It’s not a bad plan.’

‘Thank you.’

‘But not every plan needs to involve you getting shot.’ Hawke pointed out.

‘I’m relieved to hear it.’ Mike quipped. ‘So you have a plan?’

‘Yeah.’ Hawke lowered the binoculars. ‘I have a plan.’

‘You want to share?’ Mike asked impatiently.

‘I need to check a few things with Caitlin and Airwolf.’ Hawke said. ‘If they pan out, we do my plan; if they don’t, then we’ll go with you as the sacrificial lamb.’

‘Can we not use the word sacrificial?’ Mike pleaded as Hawke signalled for them to scurry backwards out of sight to begin the journey back to Airwolf.

‘Would you prefer suicidal?’ Hawke commented.

‘Heroic?’ Mike suggested.

Hawke’s eyebrow quirked upward.

‘What?’ Mike demanded.

They set a punishing pace back to the helicopter and climbed aboard relieved to be back in the relative safety of her cockpit.

‘How did it go?’ Caitlin asked interested as they both turned round to face her from their seats in the front.

‘About as bad as we thought.’ Hawke replied. ‘Mike has a plan that involves him getting shot.’

‘Well, there’s more to it than that.’ Mike said defensively.

‘I hope so or this mission is going to over real quick.’ Caitlin said. She looked over at her husband. ‘You have a plan?’

‘Michael said short range communications were still possible, right?’ Hawke checked.

‘Right.’ Caitlin confirmed. ‘I’m hearing radio chatter so it’s true.’

‘OK.’ Hawke took a breath. ‘Airwolf, can you hack into the Russian communication system?’

Yes.

Caitlin smiled at her monitor. ‘Airwolf says yes.’

‘Can you use that to transfer yourself to the Russian ship, Airwolf?’ Hawke asked.

Yes.

Caitlin confirmed the answer and her eyes widened in realisation of where Hawke was going with his plan. ‘You want the AI to steal the other ship?’

Hawke tilted his head in acknowledgement that she’d worked it out. ‘It’s a thought.’

‘A good one.’ Caitlin said.

I can execute.

‘Airwolf says she can do it.’ Caitlin said. ‘As long as we maintain a communication link with her she should be able to utilise the ship’s systems and initiate flight herself.’

‘Isn’t there a risk if we lose the communication link of losing the AI completely?’ Mike asked concerned.

‘That is the risk.’ Caitlin answered.

Hawke sighed. ‘If we try a ground assault, it’s very likely one of us is going to end up dead. The only alternative to Mike’s plan is for us to go with Airwolf and drop a pilot next to the Russian bird. With the amount of firepower they have around that place, that’s just as suicidal.’

I am prepared to take the risk.

‘Airwolf says she’s prepared to take the risk.’ Caitlin said with a sigh.

‘OK. Let’s do it.’ Hawke said.

Initiating link with Russian telecomm system.

‘Now what?’ Mike asked.

‘Now we wait for Airwolf to do her stuff.’ Hawke said firmly.

An hour later, Airwolf had accessed the local Russian telecommunication system and had identified the access number into her Russian counterpart.

Connection established.

Hawke nodded at Caitlin and Mike. ‘Time for the diversion.’

They all put on the heavy football style helmets and Hawke powered up the helicopter.

‘Caitlin?’

‘Systems ready.’ Caitlin confirmed.

‘Weapons deployed.’ Mike added, hitting the last of his buttons as the thud of the cannons under the helicopter clicking into position sounded dully in the cockpit.

‘We’re going in low so we should be off their radar.’ Hawke said. His hand grasped the cyclic and he rose up slow and steady to hover just above the tree-tops.

‘Airwolf, initiate engines on your ship.’ Hawke ordered.

Confirmed. Engines started.

‘Good. As soon as you’re ready, take off.’

Confirmed.

‘Turbos.’ Caitlin said.

Hawke fired the turbos and they shot forward. They could see the chaos Airwolf’s self-initiation had caused on the ground.

‘Sequential missiles ready.’ Mike confirmed.

Hawke slid the visor down and targeted the anti-aircraft guns; four missiles shot out from the cannons.

‘Targets eliminated.’ Mike said. He held his breath as Hawke angled Airwolf downwards into the smoke. The rotors whipped it into a screen that masked the Russian bird ascending into the air.

‘Turbos.’ Hawke ordered.

Caitlin confirmed it and Hawke hit the button that had them flying forward in perfect synchronisation with the Russian bird.

‘Hawke,’ Caitlin read the monitor to check Airwolf’s statement, ‘Airwolf is confirming copying her required programming to the Russian ship. She’ll disconnect from the Russian telecomm system and initiate a ship to ship link for communication only.’

Her husband didn’t reply; his attention was on his flying.

‘We have MIGs.’ Mike said.

‘Three.’ Caitlin confirmed. ‘Approaching on an attack vector.’

Hawke dived to the ground; the Russian Airwolf followed them.

‘They’re not shaking loose.’ Caitlin said calmly. ‘We have two heat-seekers.’

‘Deploying sunbursts.’ Mike said.

‘Airwolf has confirmed transfer is complete to the other ship; she has established a new ship to ship link.’ Caitlin remarked. ‘Her weapons are deployed.’

‘Airwolf,’ Hawke cleared his throat, ‘attack pattern alpha.’

Caitlin’s eyes widened. ‘She is breaking off left.’

Hawke went right. Both Airwolf helicopters ascended rapidly; they came up behind two of the MIGs and fired simultaneously. The MIGs exploded.

‘The third MIG is retreating.’ Caitlin said.

Hawke dived back down; Airwolf followed him in the Russian ship and eventually pulled up alongside them.

‘Good work, Airwolf.’ Hawke radioed across.

Mission successful.

‘Yes. Let’s not get too cocky until we’re home and safe.’ Hawke said dryly reading the monitor.

Mike craned his head to get a good view of the helicopter flying alongside them. He took in the angled nose; the dull black armour and the glimpse of her white underbelly. ‘My God. She looks exactly like this ship.’

Hawke spared a quick glance and shifted in his seat. ‘There’s a difference.’

‘How can you tell?’ Mike asked.

‘She’s not the same.’ Hawke muttered.

‘Well, I can’t tell the difference.’ Mike said a little defensively. ‘Shouldn’t we set down and one of us take over flying her?’

Hawke glanced over at the helicopter flying beside them. ‘Nah. Airwolf’s got it under control.’ She might not be the same as the ship he flew – he could tell the difference in the way the clouds and shadows played over her subtle angles – but while the AI flew her, she was definitely Airwolf.

‘Is that a good idea?’ Mike asked.

‘What’s the matter, Mike?’ Hawke replied. ‘You worried she’s going to start shooting at us.’

‘Well, now that you mention it.’ Mike said cheerily.

‘I trust her and she’s earned it.’ Hawke said firmly, unaware of how his words pleased the Airwolf AI flying beside him. He was relieved when Caitlin diverted Mike’s attention asking for a rundown on the remaining armament. His blue eyes slipped back to the other ship momentarily before he focused back on his own flying. He trusted Airwolf, he mused, but he couldn’t help but think something else was going to go wrong. Deep in his gut, he still had a bad feeling. He sighed inwardly. They’d be home soon and the mission would be over; he was probably worrying over nothing. He hoped.

—

It was the sound of groaning that shifted Saint John from sleep and into consciousness. Something cool was placed over his forehead and he heard the sigh that escaped his lips at the relief it brought; he felt so hot. He vaguely realised it must have been him who was groaning and he forced his eyes open. Michael filled his vision.

‘It wakes.’ Michael said dryly before retreating to his own cot in the dark room.

Saint John’s eyes followed him as his brain sluggishly assessed his own condition; fever, cramping in his gut, pain. His gaze met the spy’s. ‘It wasn’t truth serum they injected me with, was it?’

Michael expression became guarded. ‘I don’t think it was the only thing, no.’

‘Slow acting poison.’ Saint John surmised.

‘That would be my guess.’ Michael acceded.

Saint John was helpless to prevent the shudder that racked his frame. ‘How long have I been asleep?’

‘A couple of hours.’ Michael said.

‘When is String due to return from Russia?’ Saint John asked pointedly.

Michael sighed. ‘ Saint John…’

‘When?’ Saint John insisted.

‘We were estimating he’d be back in communications range by twenty-one hundred our time depending on how long the mission took,’ Michael said gently, ‘and he’s likely to test Airwolf’s top speed as soon as he hears about you.’

‘And then he has to find us, plan a rescue and execute it.’ Saint John turned over the timings in his head. ‘So we’re looking at the early hours of the morning.’

Michael sighed. ‘Not necessarily.’

‘I’m not going to make it until then.’ Saint John pointed out with blunt honesty as he reached up and removed the handkerchief lying over his forehead with his good arm.

‘Your brother has a habit of turning up just in the nick of time. Don’t count him out just yet.’ Michael said gently.

Saint John crumpled the handkerchief in his hand. ‘Don’t patronise me, Michael.’ He swallowed hard against the sudden bitter taste in his mouth; he was going to die. He closed his eyes briefly, his argument with Jo rushing back to him. God, he’d made such a mess of it. He couldn’t bare it if that was how it ended between them.

‘I think I know why Locke grabbed both of us.’ Michael said changing the subject.

‘Why?’ Saint John said opening his eyes and pretending an interest he didn’t feel.

‘Two years ago the Company had a disaster with two of its agents in the Middle East.’ Michael began sitting back on his bed fully and folding his hands over his stomach. ‘Both were apparently taken by the same renegade terrorist group. The Company were told the location for an exchange to be made. En route they were contacted by the terrorists and informed that they had separated the two men for insurance. If all went well with the exchange the second man would be returned to them later.’ He sighed. ‘The commander decided to go ahead with the mission. The group saw the first agent tied to a post outside a building as arranged. As soon as they approached him; he and two of the rescue party were shot dead before they could get to him. They later found the second agent. They estimated that he was already dead at the time of the attempted rescue.’

‘Locke was the commander on that rescue mission.’ Saint John said.

Michael nodded. ‘You’ve read his file.’

‘I wanted to know who I was working with.’ Saint John muttered. ‘Damn.’

‘Of course, I don’t think Locke’s intention is just to kill us both.’ Michael said.

‘Airwolf.’ Saint John said.

‘Actually, I don’t think so.’ Michael sighed. ‘I think he wants to hurt your brother as much as possible.’

Saint John frowned. ‘He’s going to give him a choice, isn’t he? Between saving you or saving me.’

‘Only it won’t be a choice.’ Michael commented. ‘Because he’ll choose you.’

‘But I’m dying already.’ Saint John said. ‘If he chooses me, he’ll lose both of us.’

‘He’ll choose you.’ Michael said softly. There was no doubt in his mind where Hawke’s loyalties would lie if it came down to it.

Saint John closed his eyes. ‘God.’ He knew his brother and he knew how devastated String would be, not only to find him dead, but in realising he’d made the wrong choice and effectively killed Michael too.

‘It will cripple Hawke,’ commented Michael, his mind darting back to when Hawke had thought he had lost Caitlin and finding the pilot on the sofa with a loaded gun.

‘We have to stop this.’ Saint John said opening his eyes.

Michael allowed himself a small smile and breathed a sigh of relief, pleased that he’d refocused Saint John’s attention onto survival again. ‘If we can get Locke back to normal, we might have a chance to stop this.’

‘I hope you’re right.’ Saint John said.

There was silence between the two men for a long while. Saint John turned over the probabilities and outcomes in his head and grimaced. Despite what he had said to Michael, he didn’t see an easy way out of their situation; he didn’t see a way out for him at all. Regrets flooded him…about String and staying away for so long…about the missed opportunity to get to know his sister and find the rest of his family…about Jo and their argument.

‘Michael.’ Saint John cleared his throat.

‘Hmmm?’

‘If I don’t make it….’

‘You have to stop thinking…’

‘Michael.’ It was the calm quiet of Saint John’s voice that made Michael stumble to a halt. ‘If I don’t make it, I need you to deliver some messages.’

Michael pressed his lips together as he slowly nodded. ‘What do you want me to say?

‘Tell Sarah that I’m sorry I only knew her for a few days but I loved her anyway; her and Chris.’ Saint John felt his throat close up on a wave of emotion, tears springing into his eyes. ‘And tell Jo that I love her and I’m sorry I was an ass today.’

Michael raised an eyebrow and wondered what had prompted the last remark.

‘And String…’ The tears he was trying to hold back spilled over and ran down his face. ‘Tell my brother that I love him, that I…I’m sorry I wasted so much time.’ His gaze met Michael’s suddenly and held it. ‘You have to look after my brother, Michael. You have to promise me.’

‘I promise.’ Michael said solemnly.

Saint John nodded relieved and turned his head away, swiped at his face.

‘So, not that I disagree with you, but you want to explain to me why you’re an ass?’ Michael asked curious.

Saint John gave a short humourless laugh which turned into a cough but before he could answer, the lock clicked and the door was thrown open.

Locke strolled in with another couple of guards. He smiled at them both. ‘Well, well, well. Look at this.’ He gestured at them. ‘Two of America’s finest and I beat you both.’

Saint John didn’t move but his hazel eyes narrowed on his friend.

‘Feeling a little smug, are we, Locke?’ Michael said calmly as he shuffled to the edge of the bed and surreptitiously took hold of the syringe he had secreted away.

‘I have you and Saint John.’ Locke waved a hand at the pilot and the spy who hadn’t moved.

‘Yeah, Jason, you got us.’ Saint John waved the white handkerchief he was holding. ‘If this is all to prove yourself; you’ve done it. You’ve gotten yourself brainwashed and killed a friend.’

‘You were never my friend.’ Locke snapped. ‘You lied to me.’

‘You’re never going to forgive yourself for this.’ Saint John said quietly.

‘He’s right.’ Michael added.

Locke glowered at his predecessor. ‘You never thought I was good enough, did you, Michael?’

‘Honestly?’ Michael met Locke’s angry stare head on. ‘No, I didn’t.’ He smiled at the furious flash in the Company man’s dark eyes. ‘You’re a good agent, Locke, but you’re not exceptional.’

‘I’ve beaten you.’ Locke almost spat the words at Michael.

‘Have you?’ Michael smiled at him.

‘I’ve destroyed your tracer and you’re trapped here.’ Locke said. ‘As soon as I can make contact with Airwolf…’ his eyes slid questioningly to Michael.

‘He’s on a mission in Russia. They’re jamming long range communications.’ Michael explained helpfully.

‘That’s unfortunate.’ Locke sighed. He shrugged. ‘But when I do make contact, I’ll have Hawke.’

Michael raised an eyebrow. ‘You won’t beat Hawke.’

Locke laughed. ‘I’m the one holding the best hand.’

‘Hawke could beat you even if you were holding all the cards.’ Michael taunted. ‘That’s why you dislike him so much.’

‘He isn’t better than me.’

‘Oh yes, he is.’ Michael said rising to stand and face Locke; they were practically nose to nose.

‘I’m going to destroy him.’ Locke shot back.

‘He’s going to beat you.’ Michael said again challengingly, bracing himself for Locke’s attack. It happened fast; Locke threw himself at Michael grabbing his shoulders and forcing him back to the far wall, slamming him into it. Michael punched Locke under the ribs using the force of the blow to cover the syringe plunging into Locke; the anti-brainwashing serum was delivered. Michael’s head snapped back and hit the wall as Locke’s fist connected with his jaw.

Locke staggered back breathing heavily and rubbing his ribs gestured at the guards. ‘Pick him up.’ He scowled at Saint John. ‘I’ll be back for you later.’

‘I’m not going anywhere.’ Saint John said dryly.

Locke stormed out. Michael shook off the guards’ hands. He reached out to shake Saint John’s hand on his way past, transferring the empty syringe to the pilot with careless ease.

‘Remember your promise.’ Saint John said.

Michael nodded slightly before a rough push from the guard, had him moving reluctantly forward. Locke was slumped on the wall outside but straightened rapidly at the sound of Michael and the guards. Michael wondered if the serum was taking affect as they followed Locke through an empty mansion house and out to a manicured lawn. Michael recognised the type of house; he figured they were somewhere in Orange County by the coast. There was a waiting helicopter on the lawn.

‘I guess I’m going on a trip.’ Michael said.

Locke didn’t say anything.

Michael looked over at Locke and frowned. Locke seemed stunned. When he finally looked at Michael, the spy knew they were in trouble. Locke was back to himself but if he didn’t pull it together and quickly, the guards would get suspicious.

‘So you’re going through with your plan.’ Michael said pointedly although he was careful to say it sarcastically and hoped Locke would take the hint. ‘I take it this is a solo trip and you’ll be staying with Saint John?’

‘Yes. You and Saint John are being split up.’ Locke started hesitantly but his voice got stronger. He placed his hands on his hips. ‘But don’t worry; I’ll take care of Saint John.’ His tone was mocking but the gaze that met Michael’s was contrite.

Michael allowed the corner of his mouth to turn up slightly. ‘Goodbye, Locke.’

The other man gestured at the guards. ‘Get him out of here.’ Locke whirled and walked away. He held it together until he got back into the house and he headed straight for a bathroom where he barely made it to the toilet before throwing up, the events of the past couple of days racing through his head including how he had watched Saint John be beaten. He collapsed on the torn linoleum floor and held his head in his hands before raising his face to the heavens.

‘What have I done?’ He asked brokenly. ‘What the hell have I done?’

—

Jo entered the bustling control room and searched the rows of consoles for Marella. She found the dark-haired woman on the far side. Marella was stood staring out at the harsh landscape, her arms wrapped tightly around her middle. Jo walked over to join her and pushed her hands in her jeans.

‘Any word?’ Jo asked quietly. She had been torn between annoyance and concern when they’d arrived at Red Star earlier and Marella had filled them on what had happened. Jo could hardly believe that Locke had been brainwashed but it was the only thing that made sense. What she had found even more unbelievable was Michael risking his own life to find Saint John; the two men had a very fractious relationship.

‘No.’ Marella shook her head. ‘We finally have a fix on Michael’s tracer though. He’s in transit again.’

‘I would have thought Locke would have worked out Michael was wearing a tracer.’ Jo said with a sigh.

‘He did.’ Marella said wryly. ‘Michael was wearing two. Locke destroyed the one we planted as a decoy.’

‘Oh.’ Jo rocked back on her heels. She guessed they knew what they were doing. ‘So do you know where Michael and Saint John are?’

‘Not exactly.’ Marella admitted. ‘Michael’s still in the air. They’re heading inland towards the mountains. Their previous location seems to have been by the coast in Orange County. I’ve sent a team to check on the point of departure.’

‘Why? I mean if the guys have left there and being transported somewhere else.’

Marella hesitated and turned from the view to glance at the petite blonde haired pilot. ‘Have you ever read Locke’s file?’

Jo shook her head.

‘There was an incident in the Middle East. Locke was the commander of a rescue mission for two captured agents. The terrorist group who had captured them ended up fooling the rescue team by splitting the agents up.’

‘And you think Locke has done the same thing with Saint John and Michael?’ Jo sighed heavily. ‘That’s why you’re sending a team isn’t it? To check it out?’

‘Yes.’ Marella turned back to the window. ‘They’ll do a standard recon and let me know what they find.’

‘You’re very good at this.’ Jo murmured.

‘It’s my job.’ Marella replied.

‘Is that why you’re taking everything so calmly?’

Marella smiled ruefully. ‘I’m not.’

‘You are.’ Jo insisted. ‘I can barely piece together two coherent thoughts in a row but you…’ she waved at the room, ‘you’re running all this; keeping tabs on what’s happening; planning a rescue. I don’t think I could do that.’ She sighed again. ‘All I can think about is Saint John and whether he’s OK.’

Marella shifted her weight. ‘The first time Michael was in danger after we got together, I was a mess.’

‘You were?’ Jo asked doubtfully.

‘I was.’ Marella sighed and nudged her dark curly hair back over one shoulder. ‘I yelled at Caitlin and Hawke; came up with the most insane plan to save Michael.’ She shook her head making the curls bounce. ‘If it hadn’t been for Caitlin, I think I would have gone completely mad.’

‘I wish she were here now.’ Jo muttered.

Marella looked back over at Jo’s despondent face. ‘Maybe I can help.’ She offered.

Jo was taken aback. She and Marella weren’t particularly close although she guessed they had a form of a friendship based on time spent together with Caitlin occasionally. The urge to confide in somebody was strong and Marella was a better choice than Saint John’s sister.

‘Why don’t we go up to my office?’ Marella suggested.

‘No, Sarah’s up there with Chris and I’d rather stay here.’ Jo said. ‘Just in case…’

Marella nodded understandingly.

Jo folded her arms across her chest. ‘ Saint John and I had a massive blow up before Locke turned up.’

‘Ah.’ The one word was filled with understanding and encouraged Jo to continue.

‘It was the stupidest argument.’ Jo said raising her eyes to the ceiling.

‘Let me guess,’ Marella said, ‘you’re feeling neglected and Saint John’s clueless.’

‘Well, he was until I yelled at him today.’ Jo admitted. ‘I mean, I know he needs to spend time with his sister but sometimes it seems like I come last on his list; like now we’re together he can take me for granted.’

The words spilled out almost without thought; she’d thought about it so much since they’d argued. ‘I guess I’ve got kinda clingy in response.’ Jo rubbed her face with her hands and gave a groan. ‘It’s such a mess. It escalated from nothing and before I knew it, I was telling him to forget the whole thing.’ She wrapped her arms around herself. ‘I didn’t mean it.’

Marella laid a comforting hand on Jo’s arm. ‘I’m sure when Saint John’s calmed down he’ll figure that out if he hasn’t already.’

‘What if he doesn’t?’ Jo whispered, her sad blue eyes meeting Marella’s. ‘I don’t think I could stand it if something happens and the last thing that happened between us was us screaming at each other.’

‘You have to believe it won’t come to that.’ Marella tried to reassure her. ‘You know the Hawkes all have a surprising tenacity for survival.’

Jo nodded. ‘I can’t believe we argued like that.’

‘All couples argue occasionally.’ Marella assured her.

‘Even you and Michael?’ Jo asked.

Marella gave a light laugh. ‘We’ve had our moments. So have Caitlin and Hawke.’

‘I guess.’ Jo said doubtfully.

‘I know.’ Marella said firmly.

Jo smiled at her; she was feeling a little better, she considered. ‘Thanks, Marella.’

Marella squeezed her arm.

‘Ma’am?’ A technician called Marella over to his station. ‘We have an incoming communication from Airwolf.’

Marella almost shoved the hapless man away from his monitor as she activated the receive button. The Airwolf cockpit appeared on the screen.

‘Marella.’ Hawke greeted her with only a flicker of surprise that Michael wasn’t with her. ‘You can tell Michael the mission was successful. We have the Russian ship and we’re on our way back.’

‘I’m afraid telling Michael will be a little difficult.’ Marella leaned forward. ‘There’s a situation.’

Hawke’s blue eyes narrowed as Caitlin and Mike both frowned. ‘What?’ asked the pilot crisply.

‘Locke went missing at a meeting with a contact in New York; he turned up today at Santini Air.’

‘And?’ demanded Hawke.

‘And he convinced Saint John into leaving with him.’ Marella continued calmly. ‘Sarah called Michael earlier because she had a bad feeling when Saint John didn’t return as scheduled. Unfortunately, you had just entered the communications black out zone or we would have recalled you.’

‘Sarah?’ Hawke asked concerned.

‘They’re here.’ Marella confirmed. ‘They’re safe.’

‘Where’s Michael?’ Caitlin asked.

‘Locke called him and asked to meet. He didn’t know we knew about Saint John being missing.’ Marella explained. ‘Michael thought it was the best way to get a lead on where Saint John was being held.’

‘There has to be some mistake.’ Mike said speaking up for the first time. ‘Jason’s one of the good guys.’

‘We think he’s been brainwashed, Mike.’ Jo said inching into the frame next to Marella.

Mike subsided unhappily.

‘Why did he grab both of them?’ Caitlin wondered out loud.

‘We think he’s trying to lure Hawke to deliver Airwolf.’ Marella said.

‘No, it’s more than that.’ Hawke mused. ‘He’s going to make me choose between Saint John and Michael.’

Marella nodded. ‘I think that’s possible. Michael was wearing a tracer. We only got a fix on it thirty minutes ago. It left a location in Orange County and is headed inland to the mountains. Locke’s splitting them up.’ She hesitated. ‘Hawke, I think Locke is using an old rescue mission of two agents that he was involved in as inspiration. The good news is that it should help us anticipate his next move.’

‘And the bad news?’ prompted Caitlin.

‘Both agents involved in Locke’s rescue mission were killed. One by a bullet in an ambush for the rescue party; the other had already been killed by the time of the rescue by a slow acting poison.’

Hawke’s face settled into an expressionless mask; his eyes iced over. ‘He’s going to kill them both.’

‘I think so.’ Marella admitted confiding her worst fears.

‘You say you have a fix on Michael’s tracer?’ Hawke asked.

‘Yes. We’re sending you the frequency now.’ Marella nodded at the technician who grabbed the nearest computer console to transmit the frequency. ‘We’ll keep tracking it until you get within range for Airwolf’s sensors.’

‘You’ve pinpointed the location where Michael was being held?’ Caitlin checked.

‘Almost.’ Marella said. ‘I have Zebra Squad doing a recon.’ She took a breath. ‘There’s something else you should know.’

They all looked at her expectantly.

‘Michael took some of the anti-brainwashing serum with him.’ Marella said. ‘It’s possible that he’s administered it to Locke.’

‘Wouldn’t this be over already if he had?’ Jo asked.

‘Not necessarily.’ Mike answered brightening. ‘If they’re surrounded with other people loyal to Sterling they might have decided to play along until they could formulate a plan on how to get out of there.’

‘I agree.’ Hawke said. ‘Caitlin and I had to do the same when Horn brainwashed me.’

‘So how will we know if Locke’s brainwashed or not if he contacts us?’ Jo asked anxiously.

‘Unless he can give us a clear sign, we should assume that he’s still brainwashed.’ Hawke said bluntly. He’d already increased their speed.

Jo sighed. ‘So what’s the plan? We wait until Locke contacts us?’

‘No.’ Hawke sighed. ‘We think Locke’s going to give me an ultimatum; Michael or my brother. Presumably he’ll give me the location of the one I choose.’

‘Presumably.’ Marella agreed.

‘But we’ll know both locations anyway without Locke telling us.’ Mike said.

‘We need to hit both locations.’ Hawke said. ‘If we wait for Locke’s exchange times either Michael or Saint John will be dead before we can move.’

‘There’s something we’re not considering.’ Caitlin said.

‘What?’ Mike glanced back at her.

‘Locke knows Hawke will choose Saint John.’ She gave an apologetic look to Marella. ‘He’s his brother.’

Hawke’s jaw tensed. ‘He’s expecting Airwolf to hit the Orange County location so he’ll be prepared for her there.’

‘We’re going to need to hit both locations simultaneously like we did in that attack at the Lair.’ Marella added.

Hawke looked over at Mike. ‘Locke’s also counting on us only have one working Airwolf to make a rescue attempt.’

‘But we have two.’ Mike said.

‘Yes.’ Hawke said pleased. ‘We do.’ He shifted in his seat and his eyes set on the sky in front of him. ‘Here’s the plan.’

—

Saint John felt a cool cloth over his forehead. His eyes opened and he blinked blearily. A figure appeared in his vision; an old man with wispy grey hair and a gap-toothed grin. He frowned. ‘Uncle Dom?’ He bolted into an upright position, ignoring the sharp pain that resulted across his chest from his ribs, and sat on his cot staring in disbelief at the man who’d once raised him.

‘It’s me. Just relax, kid.’ Dom patted his hand.

‘I’m dead already?’ Saint John said incredulously.

Dom sighed heavily. ‘Why does everyone assume that?’ He asked throwing his hands up. ‘You’re not dead yet.’

‘But soon?’ Saint John waved his good hand. ‘Don’t answer that.’

‘You used to have more faith in your brother.’ Dom said a little chidingly.

Saint John flushed at the perceived admonishment. ‘The timings are wrong.’ He said defensively. ‘Even if he knows where I am, String can’t get here fast enough in Airwolf.’

‘Your brother would move mountains to find you.’ Dom said sitting down on the cot next to him.

Saint John sighed. ‘You must be disappointed in me.’

‘Now why would I be disappointed in you?’ Dom’s brow creased with confusion.

‘I left him alone for so long.’ Saint John swallowed hard and met Dom’s solemn gaze. ‘You died without even knowing that I was alive.’

‘You did what you thought you had to do.’ Dom said. ‘String understands that you know.’ He shrugged. ‘And so do I. I know it wasn’t easy on you after the boat accident. I know you felt responsible.’

‘I tied String’s line.’ Saint John whispered helpless against the tears that started to fall. ‘It was my fault it came loose and swept him overboard.’

‘And you tried to make up for it by making yourself responsible for him.’ Dom sighed. ‘All that responsibility…it was too much of a sacrifice of your own life, Saint John. You were always bound to feel resentful eventually.’

‘I ran away from my own brother, Uncle Dom.’ Saint John lowered his head into his hand, the sobs starting in earnest. ‘What does that make me? I’m nothing but a coward.’

Dom wrapped his arms around the younger man and held him as he sobbed on his shoulder; heart-wrenching sobs that wracked Saint John’s frame. ‘That’s it.’ Dom said patting his back. ‘Let it all out.’

Eventually, Saint John quieted. Dom pulled away and took hold of Saint John’s head in both hands forcing him into looking at him. ‘I forgive you.’ He said. ‘String forgives you.’ His dark eyes held Saint John’s. ‘You have to forgive yourself.’

‘I don’t know if I can do that.’ Saint John admitted. ‘I hurt him so badly and I…I must have hurt you.’

‘If I can forgive you and your brother can forgive you, you can forgive you.’ Dom said firmly. He let go of him and passed him Michael’s handkerchief. ‘Now blow your nose and wipe your face.’

‘You really think String will get here in time?’ Saint John asked taking Dom’s advice.

‘Your brother has remarkable timing. You should ask Michael.’ Dom said.

‘You like him.’ Saint John realised with surprise.

‘You’re not to tell him that.’ Dom remonstrated light-heartedly.

Saint John sniffed. ‘I guess if you’re a ghost you know about me and Jo.’

Dom beamed proudly. ‘I couldn’t be happier.’

‘I screwed it up, Uncle Dom.’ Saint John said dryly waving the handkerchief at him.

‘Is that supposed to be a sign of surrender?’ Dom laughed.

‘I’m kinda figuring you’re about to kick my butt.’ Saint John admitted.

Dom folded his arms. ‘You kids need to work it out yourselves.’

Saint John sighed. ‘I’m not sure I know how.’

‘You know.’ Dom contradicted him gently.

‘It’s different.’ Saint John admitted.

‘From what you imagined?’ Dom nodded. ‘It always is.’

‘It’s not as easy as I thought it would be.’ Saint John said.

Dom tilted his head. ‘Do you love her?’

‘Yes.’

Dom smiled at the unequivocal answer. ‘Then you’ll work it out.’

‘Thanks, Uncle Dom.’

‘What for?’

‘Everything.’

Dom pushed him gently. ‘Lie back down and get some rest.’

Saint John felt awash with tiredness suddenly and followed Dom’s suggestion. His eyes closed gently. ‘Don’t go.’

‘I’ll be here, Saint John.’

He felt Dom’s hand brush over his hair.

‘I’ll always be watching over you boys.’

Saint John slipped into unconsciousness; Dom’s touch comforting him. The loud thud of the door woke him. He rubbed his eyes and opened them wearily, blinking against the harsh artificial light that swamped the room. ‘Uncle Dom?’

”Fraid not.’

Locke’s voice had his eyes snapping to the doorway. ‘Come to gloat some more, Locke?’ Saint John asked. He gestured at himself. ‘I’d get up but I’m dying here.’

Locke motioned at the guards behind him. ‘Leave us.’

The guards moved away and closed the door behind them. Locke hurried over to Saint John and took out a syringe.

Saint John caught Locke’s wrist as he went to inject it. ‘What is that stuff?’

‘The anti-dote to the poison.’ Locke said meeting Saint John’s eyes steadily.

‘Michael’s serum stuff worked, huh?’ Saint John let go and allowed Locke to dose him.

‘I’m sorry.’ Locke said as he replaced the syringe in his pocket. ‘I’m so sorry.’ He staggered the couple of steps to the cot opposite and sat down heavily. ‘When I remembered…’ he looked down unable to look at his friend, ‘I was sick, Saint John.’

‘You weren’t yourself, Locke.’ Saint John said. ‘You can’t dwell on it. We just need to find a way out of this.’

Locke nodded and rubbed his hands together. ‘I’ve spoken with your brother. He’s back in the country. I had to keep it cagey because I was being watched. I don’t know if he realised I wasn’t brainwashed anymore.’

‘He wouldn’t take it into consideration.’ Saint John said tiredly. ‘He’ll plan as if you are.’

Locke nodded again. ‘He chose you. I’ve given him this location.’

‘What was the original plan?’ Saint John said feeling comforted that Michael’s assumption that String would chose him had been proven right.

‘We’re moving artillery into ambush positions.’ Locke explained. ‘When Airwolf arrives in two hours, we’re going to destroy her.’

‘And Michael?’ Saint John asked.

‘He’s as good as dead.’ Locke cleared his throat. ‘There’s a small team with him of two men. They’re to pretend as though Hawke chose Michael and not you. They’ll take him out to a deserted location, shoot him in the gut and leave him for dead.’

‘So there’s time to save us both.’ Saint John said firmly.

‘No,’ Locke sighed and met Saint John’s gaze regretfully. ‘I could only give your brother the location of the person he chose; this location. I destroyed Michael’s tracer; there’s no way they would know where he is to save him and I’m not allowed to communicate with the other team.’

Saint John stared at him. ‘Jason, he has a kid; he has a family.’

‘I know.’ Locke’s gaze shot back to the floor. ‘But it’s going to be hard enough getting us out of here.’

‘What are you planning?’ Saint John asked his unease growing.

‘The only opportunity we’re going to get is when Airwolf arrives.’ Locke said. ‘There’s a helicopter out back. I can sneak you out to it and we can get away; radio Airwolf and hopefully all get away before…’

‘Before she gets blown out of the sky.’ Saint John said harshly.

‘Your brother has to know it’s a trap, right?’ Locke pointed out. ‘And he’s the best at what he does. There’s a good chance that he won’t get shot out of the sky.’

‘I’m not prepared to take that risk, Locke. It’s very likely that Caitlin and Mike will be in Airwolf with him.’ Saint John said forcefully. ‘I’m not sacrificing their lives along with Michael’s for us to get out of here.’

Locke sighed. ‘What do you suggest?’

Saint John thought furiously. There had to be a way out of this; there had to be.

There was a familiar shriek of engines overhead.

Both men’s gazes snapped upwards to the ceiling.

‘Was that…?’ Locke asked.

‘Airwolf.’ Saint John said.

‘He’s early.’ Locke shot across the room to the window and stared out. An explosion sounded dully through the walls. ‘He’s shooting everything up!’

The door burst open and a panicked guard entered. ‘Boss says we need to clear out.’ He took out his gun and aimed it at Saint John. ‘He wants him dead.’

‘I’ll do it.’ Locke snapped taking out his gun. ‘I want to make sure he’s dead myself.’

The guard shrugged and headed out. Locke fired his weapon into the empty cot to ensure the guard heard the shot. ‘Stay here.’ He said to Saint John in a low voice. ‘I’ll be back for you.’ He raced out of the room.

Saint John levered himself into a sitting position. It took all of his remaining energy and he sat on the edge of the bed gasping. He knew it would take a while for Locke’s antidote to take effect but it was time he knew he didn’t have; they needed to leave and leave immediately. He just needed to catch his breath; he closed his eyes.

‘ Saint John?’

His eyes snapped open.

Hawke was framed in the doorway, wearing a lilac Airwolf uniform and his gun held firmly in his hand. As his eyes swept the room and confirmed Saint John was alone, he lowered the gun and a second later was hugging his brother. ‘You OK?’

‘I will be.’ Saint John said hugging him back tightly with his good arm. He pulled away to look at Hawke urgently. ‘String, they’re going to try and shoot Airwolf down; that was the plan.’

He laid a hand gently on Saint John’s battered cheek. ‘Don’t worry.’ Hawke said. ‘It’s all under control. Come on. Let’s get you out of here.’

‘Locke was coming back.’ Saint John said.

‘He clean?’ Hawke asked.

‘Michael injected him with the serum.’ Saint John said. ‘String, Michael’s in trouble.’

‘Yeah, we know.’ Hawke said. ‘We have another team hitting his location now.’

‘How did…?’

‘He was wearing a second tracer.’ Hawke explained. His head tilted to the side and he raised a finger to his lips. He took a position on the side of the door, his gun ready. As Locke entered at a rush, Hawke stopped him by stepping up and placing the cold metal against his head; Locke froze.

‘I’m not brainwashed.’ Locke said raising his arms.

Hawke looked at his brother for confirmation.

Saint John nodded. ‘Let’s get out of here.’

Hawke lowered his gun and shifted to place one of his brother’s arms over his shoulder and hoisted him off the bed, putting his left arm around Saint John’s waist.

‘Come on.’ Locke said. ‘There’s a helicopter out the back.’

They followed Locke as they made their way out of the house. He led them down a flight of stone steps and they could see a glint of the metal rotors in the dark.

Suddenly shots rang out. They took cover behind a wall. The older man groaned as the move knocked his ribs and his broken arm.

Locke began to shoot back. He looked over his shoulder at Hawke and Saint John. ‘Go for the chopper! I’ll cover us.’

Hawke helped Saint John off the ground and they began their awkward run over the open ground. Shots hit the ground by their feet and there was a howl above them as Airwolf descended rapidly to cover them and returned fire; a line of bullets streaked across the ground and one shooter died in the shrapnel hail.

She arched upward to turn back for a better shot at the second shooter…

They were almost at the chopper. Hawke heard a whistling sound through the air…

A missile…headed for the chopper on the ground…for Hawke and Saint John…there was no time to deploy a countermeasure…

Airwolf shrieked downward to intercept…

The blast ripped through the sky…

Hawke and Saint John were propelled through the air, landing on the ground nearby in stunned disbelief.

‘Airwolf.’ Hawke murmured blinking past his shock at the falling fireball.

‘String.’ Saint John said his eyes wide with concern. ‘Who was flying her?’

Hawke shook himself. ‘We have to get out of here.’ He picked Saint John up and they started back to the chopper. Locke ran up to join them taking Saint John’s other side.

A shot rang out…Locke stumbled and went down.

‘Jason!’ Saint John fell to his knees beside his friend, barely noticing Hawke go to his, covering them with his weapon.

‘ Saint John.’

Locke raised a hand and Saint John grasped it weakly. He looked down at the spreading stain of blood on Locke’s stomach. ‘God.’

‘You have to know,’ Locke tasted his blood in his mouth and knew his life was measured in seconds, ‘it’s not Sterling.’

‘Who?’ Saint John asked urgently.

‘Cordelli. Giovanni Cordelli.’ Locke gasped. ‘It was always Cordelli.’ His eyes went wide and frightened. ‘I’m sorry…I’m so…’ he gave a gasp and was silent.

Saint John bowed his head and gently closed Locke’s eyes. He felt his brother’s hand on his shoulder.

‘We have to move.’

Saint John nodded. Hawke lifted him and they took a stumbling step forward. More shot rang out, hitting the ground by them. Hawke swore roundly. They were too exposed.

There was a howl of engines and a barrage of chain-gun fire. The second shooter couldn’t escape.

Saint John looked up at the familiar shape circling above them, taking out artillery with a systematic ruthlessness. ‘How…?’ He asked as Hawke yanked open the cockpit door to the stationary helicopter.

‘Later.’ Hawke promised as he pushed Saint John into his seat. He rounded the nose and climbed aboard, secure in the knowledge that Airwolf would provide cover until he could lift off. It took a few minutes for the rotors to reach full power and Hawke absently noted the beach house where his brother had been held was a wreck as he grasped the cyclic and ascended into the night sky. Zebra Squad would go in and clean up.

‘Airwolf, come in.’ Hawke radioed.

‘Hey.’ Caitlin replied. ‘You guys OK?’

‘Yeah, we’re OK.’ Hawke replied. ‘You?’

Across the sky, Caitlin turned her head slightly to glance behind at a tired but alive Michael and across to a sombre looking Mike. ‘We’re OK here too. All present and accounted for.’ She glanced at her monitor and smiled. ‘Airwolf too.’

‘The AI made it back?’ Hawke checked.

‘Yeah.’ Caitlin sighed. ‘It was close. We thought we’d lost her.’

‘I thought we had.’ Hawke admitted.

‘She sacrificed the Russian ship to save you.’ Caitlin said gently.

‘We appreciate it.’ Hawke cleared his throat. ‘Locke didn’t make it.’

‘We know.’ Mike replied. ‘We saw.’

Hawke repressed a sigh. ‘I’m taking Saint John to the nearest hospital.’

‘We’ll escort you.’ Caitlin said. ‘Michael could do with being checked out too.’

‘OK by me.’ Hawke said easily. ‘Over and out.’ He glanced across at his brother as he turned the chopper in the sky. Saint John’s eyes were pinned to the body of his friend on the ground.

—

Saint John woke up slowly. He stared at the tiles in the ceiling for a long moment before he turned his head to look at the woman holding his hand. Jo was asleep. She had pushed a chair right up to the side of the hospital bed, her head pillowed on one hand while the other clutched his good hand tightly, his other arm was in plaster and in a sling. His gaze softened. He guessed getting abducted and almost dying had helped her forgive him for their argument a little quicker than she would have done otherwise. His eyes drifted from Jo to the other side of the bed and he smiled. Sarah was curled up in a chair fast asleep, her hand enfolded into String’s. His brother smiled back at him.

Hawke nudged Sarah. She woke with a start, her blue eyes glaring at him questioning. He jerked his head at Saint John. She smiled broadly and stood up to reach over and cup his cheek with her hand.

‘I’m glad you’re OK.’ Sarah said in a whisper. ‘I’ve just found you. You can’t go leaving me yet.’ She leaned over and kissed his cheek before she stepped back.

Hawke gestured at the door. ‘We’ll leave you to it.’

Saint John nodded his thanks and he watched his siblings skirt the edge of the bed and quietly exit. The sound of the door clicking shut disturbed Jo and her head jerked upwards sharply. He squeezed her hand to get her attention. ‘Hey, you.’

Jo smiled at Saint John. ‘Hey.’

For a moment they gazed at each other in silence.

‘I’m sorry.’

They had spoken in unison and at the simultaneous apology had them both grinning inanely.

‘I guess we’re both thinking the same thing for once.’ Saint John said ruefully.

‘We haven’t done a lot of that lately.’ Jo admitted. She rubbed his fingers with hers, tears springing to her eyes. ‘I thought I’d lost you.’

He raised his hand and brushed her tears away; she leaned her cheek into the palm of his hand. ‘I’m OK.’ His jaw clenched. ‘Which is more than I can say for Locke.’

‘I know.’ Jo swiped at her face. ‘But I’m so glad it was him and not you.’

Saint John smiled sadly. ‘Me too.’ His thumb stroked over her cheekbone. ‘I had the strangest dream when I was being held captive.’

‘Oh?’ Jo asked.

‘I dreamed Uncle Dom came to look after me.’ Saint John said.

‘Uncle Dom?’

Saint John nodded. ‘He told me that we’d work it out.’

‘He did?’ Jo smiled tearfully.

‘I love you.’ Saint John held her gaze with his. ‘I’m not used to loving someone though.’

‘Me either.’ Jo confessed. ‘It’s harder than I thought.’

Saint John smiled sympathetically. ‘I haven’t meant to push you away.’

Jo shook her head. ‘It was me.’ She laid a finger across his lips when he would have argued. ‘I was worried that it wasn’t me you really wanted especially when you shut me out.’ She said. ‘I thought you had this dream but that it wasn’t really me who you wanted to fulfil it with.’

‘You’re the only one I want to fulfil it with.’ Saint John said forcefully.

‘I got scared and tried to hold onto you too tightly.’ Jo admitted.

‘It wasn’t just you.’ Saint John followed her example and laid a finger across her lips. ‘My turn.’ He sighed. ‘I’m so used to being on my own that I forgot that in a couple you need to make joint decisions. I’ll try to do better but you’re going to have to help me. If you think I’m agreeing to something without consulting you or taking you into consideration, you have to tell me.’

‘Deal.’ Jo said. She wrapped her hands around his and kissed his knuckles. ‘I love you too.’ She smiled. ‘I guess Uncle Dom was right; we did work this out.’

‘He always was right.’ Saint John said dryly. He sighed. ‘What’s happening?’

Jo sighed. ‘They’re not telling me much.’ She complained. ‘Mike told me about Michael’s rescue.’

‘Oh?’

‘Apparently, Michael’s eye patch contains an electronic tracer.’ Jo said wryly. ‘They managed to track it before they got the call giving them the choice between the two of you. Caitlin and Mike took the real Airwolf and rescued Michael while Hawke hit your location with some version they’d just liberated from Russia.’

‘It must have been a quick rescue if they got away so quickly to get to us.’

‘It was.’ Jo said. ‘Michael had already dealt with the two men holding him hostage when they arrived. He was sat waiting for them.’

‘He killed his captors?’ Saint John asked.

Jo nodded. ‘I think so. Mike was pretty vague but it sounded like it was either Michael or them so…’ she gave an awkward shrug. ‘Mike said it was the artificial intelligence was flying the helicopter when she took that missile.’

‘She saved our lives.’ Saint John murmured. ‘We would have been toast if she hadn’t.’

‘Well, I’m going to be eternally grateful to her, I know that much.’ Jo said fervently.

‘What’s happening with Jason?’ Saint John asked.

Jo sighed, her face saddening. ‘They recovered the body. Mike went to deliver the news to Jason’s parents. That’s why he’s not here. He said they’ve decided against a military funeral; they’re having a small private affair. We’re invited.’

Saint John nodded. ‘We’ll go.’

‘Yes, we will.’ Jo promised.

The funeral took place a week later in Jason’s hometown. It was a small ceremony with Jason’s family, friends and the Airwolf team. Saint John stood by the grave and watched as the polished coffin was lowered slowly into the ground; the sound of his mother weeping filled the air.

Jo was stood on one side of Saint John, her hand securely in his; Mike was on the other side of her, dressed smartly in his dress blues, his usual humour absent. On Saint John’s other side was Hawke; his hand holding Caitlin’s tightly. Michael and Marella were lined up next to her. Sarah had eschewed the funeral; she hadn’t known Locke. She was holding the fort at Santini Air along with Hannah who Michael had assigned as protection while they were all absent.

Eventually, the service was over and people started to drift away as they followed the family back to the house a short walk away for drinks. Saint John excused himself after a while to get some air. He walked the distance back to the grave and stood silently beside it grieving for his friend. He wasn’t surprised when he felt his brother settle in beside him a few minutes later.

‘Checking up on me?’ Saint John asked.

Hawke shrugged.

‘Cordelli’s going to pay for this.’ He said angrily.

‘You’re damn right.’ Hawke agreed.

His older brother took a step toward the marble headstone and placed a hand on it. ‘I swear to you, Jason. Your sacrifice will not be in vain.’ He closed his eyes briefly on a silent prayer before he turned back to his brother. ‘I know you didn’t like him much but he was a good man.’ He said, his eyes glued to the marble that marked the spot. ‘A good friend.’

Hawke placed a hand on Saint John’s shoulder. ‘You should remember that.’

‘It was my fault.’ Saint John said.

‘This wasn’t anyone’s fault, Saint John. You can’t blame yourself.’ Hawke said brusquely.

‘No, not this.’ Saint John swallowed and turned to look at his brother squarely. ‘When we were kids…on the boat…I tied your line; it was my fault it came loose and swept you overboard.’

Hawke blinked bemused. ‘You’ve been blaming yourself for that all these years?’ He asked incredulous.

Saint John nodded.

‘That’s why you looked out for me so much when it was just the two of us.’ Hawke surmised.

‘After I got taken prisoner in ‘ Nam, I realised that there would come a time when I couldn’t keep you safe…’ Saint John sighed and shook his head. ‘It was easier to run away then keep trying.’

‘And that’s why you stayed away for so long?’ Hawke sighed. ‘ Saint John…’

‘I’m so sorry, String.’ The words were barely audible but Hawke heard them.

‘I forgive you.’ Hawke said softly.

Saint John’s gaze snapped back to his brother.

Hawke looked at him evenly. ‘I forgave you a while back and I should have said it sooner…’

‘But I just told you about the line…’

Hawke waved his words away. ‘You didn’t tell me anything I didn’t already know, Saint John.’ He smiled at the stunned look on his brother’s face. ‘I’ve always remembered that it was you who tied the line and I never blamed you for that.’ He sighed again. ‘I was too busy blaming myself.’

‘It wasn’t your fault.’ Saint John said.

‘No, just like it wasn’t yours, or Mom’s, or Dad’s.’ Hawke said. ‘It was just a lousy rotten accident.’ He squeezed his brother’s shoulder. ‘Let it go, Saint John.’

Saint John pulled his brother to him with his good arm and hugged him. ‘I love you, you know that right?’

‘I love you too.’ Hawke patted his back gently before he pulled away. ‘Come on. We’d better get back before Cait and Jo send out a search party.’

Saint John gave Jason Locke’s grave one final glance and nodded. They walked out of the churchyard together; their arms slung carelessly around each other’s shoulders; brothers united again.

fin.

Next Story: Promises