Airwolf – Terminal Velocity
Chapter One
Stringfellow Hawke waited in the shadows for a couple of minutes, watching Sara Sykes make her way quickly and quietly back to the main complex, and then leaning heavily against the garage shed, he drew in deep, calming breaths and gazed up at the night sky, his eyes automatically picking out the constellations that were so familiar to him, replaying recent events in his mind, finding himself suddenly better able to understand why Sara had seemed to be cooling off toward him, while rubbing absently at a niggling little ache at the base of his spine.
The guy in the bar last night, he must be her contact on the outside, Hawke surmised.
He had probably been the one she had passed on the specimen carton to, and the one who had run the background check on Roger Dobbs, and his fingerprints.
So, it naturally followed that the guy was also military.
Maybe even her commanding officer.
It also naturally followed that it was because of what that guy had told her, that Sara ….
Yes, keep thinking of her as Sara ….
It was because of what she had learned about him, at that meeting, that her feelings for him had begun to change.
She hadn't liked what she had discovered.
He wasn't the man she thought, and his reasons for being involved in the project were suspicious to say the least.
She hadn't known what to believe.
Except that Roger Dobbs was not the man that she had come to know, and like.
He wasn't the hero who had saved her life.
Instead, he was someone who didn't belong.
Someone, who was no longer to be trusted.
Someone who, quite apart from the recent show of heroics, could prove to be a traitor, and a cold blooded killer.
Hawke now recalled how tangled his own feelings had been at the thought that Sara might be a traitor.
A murderess.
So incongruous, in fact, it had made him heartsick.
Had made him begin to doubt his instincts, and judgement of human nature.
And he had been right.
After a fashion.
For as it turned out, she too was not as she appeared.
Military Police.
Damn!
He would never have pegged it.
She was good. Damned good.
She had certainly fooled him.
On many levels.
She was a damned good actress, and she had also proved that she was quick at thinking on her feet.
He, on the other hand was lousy at it.
There was no way on earth that he would have come up with anything quite as creative as she had. He would simply have allowed the patrolman to come to his own conclusions based on the evidence of his own eyes.
He might have gotten away with it.
But, then again, he might not.
He might just as easily have found himself cooling his heels behind bars right now, Sara tossed out of the base on her ear, and no way to get out of the situation without blowing his cover.
Which, he had anyway, but at least this way it had been to only one person.
Sara Sykes.
Infinitely better that she be the one to know the truth, than the top brass, who, he was still undecided, may or may not be involved in what was happening here at Thunderbird.
Sara had also proved that she could hold her own in hand to hand combat.
Now, that could prove very interesting!
He wrestled with another grin as his hand drifted absently to his tender behind.
His butt could certainly testify to her expertise in self defence.
Thank God no-one had been around to witness her throwing him around like a rag doll.
Although, she had caught him unaware.
She wouldn't be so lucky next time.
Next time?
Who was he kidding!
He'd make damned sure that there was no next time.
He'd never be able to live it down if anyone got wind of the fact that she had put him flat on his back in under ten seconds.
And, not just once.
Then caught himself up as he realised that his grin was getting wider, as he imagined his sweet revenge.
His reward.
Those soft, sweet, red lips of hers, slightly moist from running her tongue over them, and slightly parted, invitingly, welcoming his own.
Her strong, yet loving arms, folding around him, drawing him close, her long fingers twining into his hair, fingernails digging into his scalp, her hips moulding to his own ….
Hey, slow down fella!
No time for that kind of thinking!
No time for that kind of thing, period!
Wrong time.
Wrong place.
Wrong gal!
Too much fire.
Too much spirit.
Too much defiance in those exotic eyes.
Way too much woman altogether.
Firebrand.
And, he reminded himself, if the look he had seen in those dark eyes had been any indication, right now she was more inclined to shoot him than kiss him again.
And suddenly, getting back into her good books was more important to him than the mission he had been charged with.
It shouldn't matter to him what she thought of him.
But it did.
He wanted her to like him.
He wanted her to want him, as badly as he wanted her right now.
But, more importantly, he needed her to trust him.
He would do whatever he had to do to achieve that goal, because he suspected that if they were going to get to the bottom of what was going on here, at Thunderbird, they were going to have to work together.
As husband and wife.
Hot damn, this work for the Firm was nothing if not challenging!
Always throwing him a curve ball just when he least expected it.
Newly weds?
How the hell did they act?
He wished he had paid more attention to those of his friends who had tied the knot.
Oh well, he would just have to do as Archangel had advised.
And wing it!