CHAPTER 1

A cool wind blew in from the lake, sending a shiver up his spine, but Saint John Hawke continued to sit perfectly still, staring off into the dark sky. It was a beautiful night, but as cold as it was clear; the moonlight danced over the waters and soft rustling of leaves could be heard, but tonight was far from peaceful.

There was something bothering String, it was like he left out half of everything he said, habitually ending his phrases mid-sentence, and was constantly antsy about something. He was up in the middle of the night on a reoccurring basis, reading or fiddling with something, wandering the cabin even, but it seemed he hardly slept - this he would know because he was doing a similar thing on a regular basis. They had spent nearly two weeks up here, and he had only managed one night of undisturbed sleep. The relationship between the two of them was also somewhat stressed. He believed that in time it would improve, but right now they couldn't figure out exactly what to say to each other.

He couldn't complain much; it was better then being in the hospital or the psych ward where they seemed to be ready to put him as soon as he was recovered enough from the physical injuries, and it was definitely a lot better then being stuck in a cage doing nothing but bake in the sun all day. But he still felt there was something String was holding back from him, wanted to tell him even, but couldn't quite.

The cold finally beginning to get to him, he slowly made his way inside and back to the sofa where he had been sleeping, or at least trying to. Everything he did brought back memories - the carpet beneath his feet, the constant ticking of the old grandfather clock, the smell of the pines - it all reminded him of their childhood and early teenage years. When it was hot he thought of Cambodia and Vietnam; when it was cold he relived getting dumped into the cold lake, the last glimpse he got to see of his parents. No matter what he did he just couldn't escape the past.

Sitting on the edge of the sofa, he looked around the room warily as if someone was trying to sneak up on him. Or maybe someone was. Whirring around suddenly, he came face to face with his brother.

"Oh, it's you."

"Nice to see you too. I didn't wake you did I? Was trying not to."

"No," Saint John answered, his heartbeat slowing again to a normal cadence, "just startled me. I still don't sleep enough for you get much chance to wake me."

"You can take the bed if you want, might help a little," String offered, although sounding a bit skeptical himself.

"You don't sound so sure of that."

"Well it didn't help me much, but that doesn't mean it won't help you."

"You don't….. did you ever have the nightmares?"

"I don't know anyone who came back and hasn't, I have had more than my fair share though, still do sometimes."

"It does get better though?"

"Eventually." He paused as if deliberating whether or not he should share anymore, but at last decided to continue. "It was hard at first, there's no denying that. I felt so guilt for coming back when so many others didn't, you didn't. I pushed everyone else away, even Dom, locked myself up here whenever I wasn't chasing some lead for almost a year. After that I joined the FIRM and still tried to avoid reality. I guess that's what I regret the most; Dom did his best to be supportive when he was hurting too and all I did was ignore him and push him away."

"What else? I'd say we have a lot to catch up on, but it's more like I have a lot to catch up on."

"I guess I'll come straight out with it, there's quite a bit to share and I've got to start somewhere. I did a few missions for the FIRM, but quickly found out I wasn't a match for long term undercover ops, at least not with that partner."

"Who was your partner?"

"Her name was Lexa Cole, but she isn't particularly important."

"Fine, I'll ask you about her later," he compromised, as much a threat as a promise. "Continue your story telling."

"The FIRM started a new project and where that's gone is a whole series of stories in an of itself."

"I still have a hard time picturing you as a company man, it just doesn't seem like a match to me."

"And you'd be right, it wasn't a match. I competed for the position of chief test pilot on the project known as Airwolf and actually got it, but the creator, a crazed psychopath named Moffet, and I had our differences so I left."

"Left? You just walked away from a job like that?"

"Yeah, if I hadn't chances are I wouldn't still be here today either. During the presentation for the senator he blew up the control tower and killed all but a couple of the people there, took the thing to Libya."

"The thing - Airwolf - you want to be a little more specific?"

"You saw it; it was what was providing air support and transportation from the camp in Cambodia."

"Wait, now I'm confused. You said you left and Moffet took it to Libya, how did… How was is there then?"

"It's story I prefer not to discuss, but none of the rest is going to make much sense otherwise, so I guess I'll have to.

"Airwolf isn't just a chopper, and by that I mean more than she's a dream to fly. She's got state of the art weapons and surveillance equipment, stealth capable and can do over mach one, it's even been claimed she's somewhat of a living creature, a merc's dream, most anyone's dream for that matter. Do you remember Archangel - the FIRM agent we dealt with when we were doing some of those covert ops?"

Saint John thought back a minute then nodded. "He was that kind of weird one with all the good-looking assistants that had a thing for white, right?"

"One and the same. He's a bit more battle worn now, but still at the FIRM. Now deputy director, but doing more less the same thing. About two year after I left the project he came offering me a job, for a million dollars I was to retrieve Airwolf from Libya. I told him I wanted information on your whereabouts instead. I'm not going into details, but I did recover Airwolf fro Libya, but I 'lost' my escort home and hid the Lady - that's what Dom calls her - said I wasn't going to return it until I knew what happened to you - you brought back if you were alive and your body if you weren't. I don't know where that leaves me now though; I guess I'll have to return Airwolf and move on. The Committee still doesn't like me, that much hasn't changed, so Archangel supplied me with armament, fuel, and updates on what everyone else was doing to try to seize Airwolf for themselves in exchange for my flying certain missions for him."

"I see" he commented as she absorbed all the new information, "wow, I really have missed a lot."

"I won't say you haven't missed anything, but you'll catch up."

"Yeah, maybe."