Title: Wolf Hunt (continued)
Author: Lady Chal
Rating: PG-13 (mild language)
Classification: Angst/Adventure, Caitlin/String
Disclaimer: They don't belong to me, wish they did!
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Chapter Three: Portions of the Truth
"Do you want to stop by your apartment?" Brenda Lansing's voice jarred into her thoughts, bringing Caitlin away from the dark, wet world she had been observing with little interest from the passenger window.
"What?"
Brenda threw her a wry smile. "Lance told me you've been gone a while. Do you want to stop by your place and pick up a few things?"
"It would probably be a good idea," Caitlin sighed, thinking glumly of the duffle bag full of dirty clothes. "I'm not sure I have a single thing left to wear in there."
They lapsed back into silence for a moment as Brenda flipped on the turn signal and navigated the Blazer towards the free way on ramp, expertly merging into the busy Saturday night traffic. She allowed the big vehicle to drift over towards the middle lane and set the cruise control before she spoke again.
"How is he?"
"Bad." Caitlin said tonelessly. "He's nothing but broken bones, serious burns and at least one skull fracture. It's a miracle he's even alive." She shook her head. "I snuck in to see him for a few minutes when no one was looking. He came around a little, enough to talk to me." She drew a deep breath. "I'm amazed he was conscious at all, I think it took every bit of will power he had just to manage it."
"It's a good sign though, isn't it?" Brenda asked.
Caitlin shrugged. "He's not out of the woods though, not by a long shot. And if he does pull through, it will be a long time before he's able to fly again." She rubbed a hand across her face, her eyes felt tired, and gritty. "And those are just the physical injuries. God only knows how he'll deal with what happened to Dom."
Brenda reached over and laid a comforting hand on her arm. "It will take time," she said. "And support, but I think he'll live."
The drive to Caitlin's apartment hadn't taken long. Brenda was pulling the Blazer to a stop in front of the building almost before Caitlin realized where they were. Reaching into the back seat, Brenda swatted her dozing husband on the foot.
"Steve! Go up and help Katie."
He jerked into wakefulness with a startled snort, and was obediently lumbering out of the back of the Blazer before Caitlin could even muster a protest.
"Never mind, Red." He said, grabbing her duffle from over the back seat and dragging it out with him. "I got it."
He shouldered the bag good naturedly, and followed her up the steps to her second story walk-up, nearly plowing into her when she stopped in her tracks, a few feet from the door.
"What is it?" he asked.
"The door is open." She said in a hushed voice.
He froze momentarily, completely alert as he listened intently for the sound of movement. Carefully, he set the bag down on the floor so as not to make a sound and then crossed to the open door in two swift, silent strides. He paused for a moment, listening closely once more and then softly brushed the door open with the back of his hand. It swung soundlessly on its hinges, revealing the dark and jumbled interior of the apartment.
The apartment had been ransacked. Drawers were turned out and dumped over, their contents spilling across the floor. Couch cushions had been cut open, with bits of stuffing mingling with shards of broken glass on the polished hardwood floors.
Lance made a move to go in, but Caitlin stopped him, pulling him back.
"No," she said quickly. "Leave it."
He gazed at her with a quizzical frown. "Don't you want to see if anything is missing?"
"It doesn't matter," she said, edging back from the doorway. "I don't have that much worth taking in the first place."
"Obviously someone thought you did," he said sardonically, casting his from the broken lock back to her. "You should at least call the police."
"No!" Caitlin said, already aware she had said it too forcefully. "Don't bother. Someone will find it in the morning and call it in."
"Kate," he said quietly, "We should at least report it."
She shook her head. "Please," she said softly, pleading with him. "Please, Lance. Let's just go. I can't deal with this right now. I just want to go."
He studied her for a long moment, eyeing her with a mixture of concern and something that looked all too much like suspicion. She didn't care. Every instinct in her body was telling her to run, to get the hell out of there while she still could. String was right. It wasn't safe.
Lance drew a deep breath. "All right." He said at last. We'll go."
She barely contained a sigh of relief as he moved away from the door, stopping only to pick up her bag where he'd dropped it. He did not speak, but she could feel the tension radiating from him as he silently followed her back down the stairs and out to the vehicle. There was a tension about him now, something edgy and dark as he opened the back door and threw her bag over the seat into the cargo area before motioning her to get in. He moved silently around to the driver's side of the Blazer, opening the door with little fanfare.
"Scoot over." He said tersely, "I'll drive."
His wife looked at him curiously, but did not ask questions. One glance at the anger glinting in his eyes –and the unease lurking in Caitlin's—told her that now was not the time.
In the back seat, Caitlin leaned her head against the cool glass of the passenger window and watched the dark shape of her apartment building as it disappeared behind them. She drew a deep breath, and then another. She couldn't go home. She had the dirty clothes in her duffle bag and twenty five dollars to her name, plus a credit card she probably shouldn't use. She had a twelve year old boy to find and take care of and Dominic Santini was dead. The breath shuddered painfully in her lungs as she fought back a fresh wave of tears. Dom was dead. Dom was dead and maybe so was Archangel and Marella and anyone who could have helped them. Dom was dead and if Stringfellow Hawke lived through this, he was probably going to get himself killed too, and there didn't seem to be a damned thing she could do about it.
She couldn't do a blessed thing, because String was right. If they got Dom, they would try for Li as well. Someone was going to have to look out for the boy, and right now, it was going to have to be her. She was going to have to get to Li and take him somewhere safe. It was not at all as easy as it sounded. Dom was dead, Archangel was gone, and Caitlin O'Shaughnessy was quite sure that there was nowhere she could go that would ever be safe again.
She spared a glance toward the front seat. Lance's eyes were glued to the road as he drove, but they shot regularly to the side mirrors as if checking the traffic behind him. He knew, she thought. He knew something was wrong with all of this, how could he not? And he was angry, she could sense it. She closed her eyes. They would want answers, and they deserved them, but the answers she gave could get them killed. Damn it! What was she going to do?
Lance had taken the long way going home, touring along some of the busier roads, then wandering down some of the side streets and through quiet alleys before pulling up at last in front of the modest split-level ranch where he and Brenda lived. He said nothing as he punched the garage door opener and pulled the Blazer in beside his pick-up truck. He punched the button again, closing the door, and switched the engine off.
They filed wordlessly into the house, through the laundry and into the kitchen where Lance stopped at last to pitch the keys on the small mahogany end-table beneath the phone. He rubbed the tired muscles at the back of his neck, and spoke at last.
"Honey, why don't you fix Kate up in the guest room with a shower and some clothes? I'll put on a pot of coffee."
Caitlin nodded gratefully. She had not expected the explanations to wait until morning, but the shower was a welcome respite. She took her time under the hot, pounding spray, letting the warm water sluice over tired muscles and taught nerves as she carefully considered what she would say.
She must tell them the truth, she decided. She was too damned poor a liar to tell them anything else. The truth, she thought, but not all of it. She could only tell them enough to make them understand the danger they were in without actually involving them in it as well.
Lance, Brenda and the coffee were waiting for her when she entered the kitchen, dressed in the robe, T-shirt and shorts that Brenda had lent her. She could hear the sound of the washing machine chugging steadily from around the corner and guessed that Brenda had already started in on her duffle bag.
The tension that had radiated from Lance earlier seemed to have vanished as he handed her a mug of coffee and sat down in one of the kitchen chairs across the table from her. Brenda busied herself for a moment, setting out sugar and pulling a carton of cream from the refrigerator before pouring her own mug and joining at the table.
Lance took a long sip of his coffee and then looked at her steadily.
"Ok, Red. It's time to come clean. Just what in the hell is going on?"
Caitlin dumped a measure of cream into her coffee and added a spoon of sugar. "Honestly?" she said, staring at the pale cloud that roiled in the black depths of her mug. "I'm not exactly sure myself."
She raised her head and looked him squarely in the eye. "And what I do know, I'm not sure I should tell you. I don't think either of you should be involved in this."
Lance frowned. "Like it or not, Red. We're already involved." He pushed a hand through his close cropped brown hair. "But I've had a little time to think about this, and a couple of thoughts have occurred to me."
He shoved back in his chair and eyed her shrewdly. "Santini's death wasn't an accident, was it?"
Caitlin slowly shook her head.
"And the break-in at your apartment tonight wasn't just an ill-timed coincidence."
"I don't know," she said quietly.
"But you were afraid that it might not be."
She nodded, but did not elaborate. The silence stretched out between them for a moment, until Brenda reached out and touched her hand.
"It's ok, Caitlin. Whatever it is, you can trust us."
Caitlin threw her a wan smile. "It's not about trust, Brandy. I just don't want to put you two in the middle of this."
Lance snorted. "Believe me, Red. Brandy and I have both been on the wrong side of the wrong people before. Whatever it is, we can handle it."
She threw him a bitter smile. "That's what I used to think, too."
He sighed, "All right, Red. If you don't want to tell me what's going on then how about I tell you what I think and you can correct me if I'm wrong."
He took a long sip of his coffee and set it down, then fixed her with his level green gaze.
"I've known Hawke and Santini a long time, longer than you've been working for them. –Long enough to know that they aren't your average flat-land crop-dusters. Santini may have acted like everybody's favorite Italian uncle, but that old buzzard was as tough as nails and wily as hell. And Hawke?" He shook his head. "Hawke is just plain dangerous."
He spun the mug in a slow circle on the table, rotating its rough, green glazed surface slowly in his hands.
"I think Hawke and Santini were involved in something dangerous and it finally caught up to them. –Things have been a little off around there the last couple years, even before you showed up."
He studied her carefully, his voice measured and slow. "Maybe you were involved in it, too. Or maybe they tried to keep you out of it, but you knew. –At least somebody thinks you did. That's why your apartment was tossed."
He finished speaking and took another drink of his coffee, then set it down on the table in front of him, studying the contents intently as he asked, "Am I close?"
"Yeah," Caitlin said. "That's pretty much it in a nutshell."
"So what was, it?" he asked quietly. "Weapons? Drugs?"
"No!" Caitlin said quickly. "It was nothing like that."
He seemed to relax a bit. "I'm glad. I didn't think so. --I can't picture Dom having anything to do with something like that, but still…" he hesitated. "It had to be something big."
He pinned her with his gaze. "What is it, Caitlin? What is it that has you afraid to even talk to the cops?"
She expelled a deep breath. She was going to have to tell them. The truth, she thought, but not all of it.
"You know that Hawke did some work for the government?"
Brenda nodded. "Dom told me once that he tested planes and helicopters for the military. He tried out some of their guidance and flight systems too, I think."
"Yes." Caitlin said, "but he did other work for them, too."
"What kind of work?" Lance asked, his eyes narrowing.
The truth, Caitlin thought, but not all of it.
"I asked him once. He wouldn't tell me." Caitlin said carefully, aware that she was treading a fine line between the truth and fiction. Hawke had never actually told her what he was involved in. Instead, he had preferred to show her, and let her figure out the details for herself. "I do know that it was more than testing aircraft. –And it was a heck of a lot more dangerous."
"How did Dom figure into all of this?" Lance wondered.
Caitlin shrugged. "I don't think Hawke really trusted the people he worked for. He refused to work with any of their people. He always took Dom with him instead."
"Why didn't he trust them?"
Caitlin shook her head. "He never really said."
That much was true. He'd never really had to. He had their billion dollar helicopter; obviously they had wanted it back. Unfortunately, that was not an answer that was going to satisfy Lance.
"I think he must have had something that they wanted. They wanted to pay him, but he would never take money from them. Dom said he'd made some kind of deal. He would work for them, and they would look for his brother."
"St. John." Lance sighed, and swore softly. "Christ, I should have known. With him, everything was about St. John."
"But what about all of this?" Brenda wondered. "Why would someone try to kill Dom and Hawke?"
Caitlin shook her head. "I don't know. It could have something to do with the work he and Dom were doing."
"Or it could be that whoever he was working for got tired of the deal." Brenda suggested.
"Or maybe," Lance broke in, "they were afraid the deal was about to become null and void. Maybe somebody else has entered the game. Somebody who wants to cut a new deal. …Maybe," he continued quietly, "somebody found St. John."
There was silence for a moment. Brenda looked shocked at the suggestion. Caitlin could only feel the tiny chill that raced down her spine at just how close to the truth Lance was.
"What are you saying?" Brenda asked, frowning at her husband.
Lance looked from his wife to Caitlin. "There might be a third possibility. Everybody who's anybody from here to the orient knows how nuts Hawke is about finding his brother. Hell, I still hear whispers about it through my old pipelines." He looked pointedly at Caitlin "Not that I still use them. --I'm strictly legit now. But odds are pretty good if they know that, they also know Hawke has been doing a little work for the government. If St. John is still alive, he's probably been rotting in some backwater prison for the last ten years. Whatever is left of him, it can't be much. An enterprising third party could pick him up from the Vietnamese for a song –if they could find him."
"What would they want with him?" Brenda asked.
"A trade," Caitlin said quietly.
Lance nodded. "Whatever value St. John had to the Vietnamese was pretty much over once the U.S. government pulled up stakes and went home. Any intelligence or information he had is ten years out of date. By now, he can't be worth much to anybody but his brother. But String is another story. If he's been testing stuff for the military, he knows a whole lot about their technology and their new weapons systems. A sharp dealer just might grab St. John and offer him up to String –in exchange for whatever it is String is working on."
"Hawke would never do that." Caitlin said sharply. "He'd go after his brother himself before he'd be willing to betray this country."
"You and I know that, Red," Lance said gruffly, "But the people Hawke and Santini were working for might not be so sure, and they probably can't afford to take that risk."
Brenda looked flabbergasted. "You think our own government might actually be behind something like this?"
Lance snorted. "Trust me honey, I danced for them a time or two when I flew over there. The people I worked for are more than capable of this. Of course, they might not have had anything to do with it, either. If there is a third party involved, and if they actually did get their hands on St. John, it's possible that they might have set the bomb, trying to force String's hand and get him to deal with them."
Lance paused and shot a look at his wife, "It explains a lot, doesn't it?"
"Explains what?" Caitlin asked, looking from one Lansing to the other.
Brenda sighed, "String stopped in a couple days ago. He asked if we still had any of our old contacts in the Middle East and the Orient. He said he might need us to hook him up."
Brenda pushed a wild strand of cinnamon colored hair back from her face. "I asked him what in the devil could have possessed Dom to do business overseas, when he was up to his armpits in movie contracts right in his own back yard." She shook her head. "String said it wasn't business, it was personal."
Caitlin slumped back in her chair. They were right. There was only one kind of personal business Hawke ever had: his brother. She swirled her cooling coffee around in her mug and then set it back down.
"I don't know what brought this on," she said at last. "Maybe it does have to do with St. John. Maybe it doesn't have anything to do with him at all, but whatever it is, it's dangerous." She looked up at Lance. "You are right. What happened to Dom and to String was no accident. I got in for just a minute to see him, he told me that himself. Whoever did this to them, they know about me. They don't know how much I know, but they suspect I know something, or they wouldn't have gone through my place. I can't go home, and I can't stay here."
"Caitlin," Lance began, but she stopped him, holding up a hand.
"There was an agreement," she said at last. "If anything happened, I was to take Li and get out. Dom made one of the planes over into my name and Hawke stashed aside a little money, enough to make a start somewhere else."
She swung her gaze from Lance to Brenda. "I intend to keep my end of it."
"Kate, this is foolish. They'll go after you."
She shrugged. "They'll look for me anyhow. The best thing I can do is get a head start."
Lance looked ready to argue, and she leveled the full weight of her gaze upon him. "Look, String is critically injured, but he's not dead. If he comes out of this, they'll be looking for something to hold over him. It won't take them long to find Li Van. I've got to get to him before they do."
Brenda glanced at her husband, then settled her gaze upon Caitlin.
"How can we help?" she asked.
"I was hoping you'd say that." Caitlin said gratefully. "I need to get into the airfield tomorrow. And I may need someone to run a little interference. I've got to get to the Santini hangar. I need to get the plane Dom left for me."
"Which one was it?" Lance asked.
"The Stearman." Caitlin said, hoping to hell that it was running.
Brenda shot her a mischievous smile. "Actually," she said, "It will be easier than you think."