Chapter Three.
Russia - Somewhere In Siberia.
Mid April, 1984.
"Well comrade Doctor, you are half way through your allotted time on this project …. And, if your expenditure is anything to go by …. You haven't killed the subject yet …." Sevchenko chuckled as he pinned Jorge Dimitriov with a steely glare. "Moscow are asking daily for an update on your progress …. And I find that I am no longer able …. Or willing …. to make excuses for your lack of …. Detail. So, comrade Doctor …. You will make a full report to me, now …."
"I have already told you, Comrade General …. Things are going as well as can be expected."
"Not good enough …. For me …. And certainly not for Moscow …. Make life easy for yourself Dr Dimitriov …. A simple answer is all that is required …. Will he be ready?"
Jorge Dimitriov let out a long sigh and sank back further in his seat. It was not often that he was summoned to the General's office, but it was never the most pleasant of experiences when he was.
His patient was a strong willed individual ….
But, finally, after weeks of perseverance, they had managed to break his spirit ….
And although he was loathed to tell the General about the breakthrough Jorge Dimitriov suspected that if Moscow did not get some good news soon, they would all know the wrath of the Kremlin.
The plastic surgeon Andropov was a true miracle worker and the scars from the last lot of surgery were healing nicely ….
The likeness uncanny ….
Not even his own mother would know the difference ….
They had had him on a weight reducing and fitness regime that meant that his body was now lean and hard and muscular ….
And they had a voice coach working on deepening his voice ….
And at long last ….
After the last session of drugs and hypnosis ….
His mind was finally theirs too ….
"Well Comrade Doctor?" Sevchenko prompted. "Will he be ready?" He demanded again, and suddenly became aware of the slow, self satisfied smile that was spreading across the good doctor's face.
"Comrade General …. Yes …. I believe so …."
"Good …. Good …. Then I will detain you from your work no longer …. Moscow, I am sure will be …. Relieved …. by this news …."
"Thank you Comrade General …."
Dimitriov made a hasty departure from the General's office, needing to return to his patient, wanting to capitalise on the recent break through and to make sure that none of his incompetent staff inadvertently planted a suggestion in his mind that would undermine all their hard work.
He was still very susceptible ….
It would not take much to destroy the tenuous link they had forged in his mind ….
Today he believed that he was Stringfellow Hawke ….
They had to make sure that tomorrow, he knew he was Stringfellow Hawke and that he had never been anyone else ….
They had to take things slowly ….
They couldn't afford any setbacks ….
And Jorge Dimitriov was determined that nothing was going to get in the way of his succeeding on this project ….
Because it was his ticket out of this hellhole and back to the real world ….
Somewhere over the Pacific Ocean ….
Sunday, 6th May, 1984.
Seated in the cockpit of Airwolf, right hand resting lightly on the joystick, Stringfellow Hawke was blissfully unaware of the soppy, dreamy expression on his face and that he had been humming the same tune over and over for the last twenty minutes.
He had deliberately chosen a course that would take them out over the ocean, mainly because it meant that he could relax and not have to worry about their being tracked by ground radar, and he could give Airwolf her head, so to speak, and allow her to reach optimum speeds.
The flight this morning was essentially to give Dominic a chance to check the radar, guidance and navigation systems, and to ensure that the small adjustments they had had to make to Airwolf's main rotor were adequate.
She had taken quite a shaking when Hawke had been forced to make his run through the canyon under heavy bombardment from Air Force bombers on a training exercise just over three weeks ago, and it had taken that long, snatching a few hours here and there, in between catching up with their workload at Santini Air, to acquire parts and supplies and to physically do the work required.
Damn that D G Bogard ….
Talk about a man on a mission ….
Obsessed ….
Yeah, and his obsession had been to get Airwolf back ….
And he hadn't cared if he had destroyed Hawke in the process ….
It had been a bit hair raising, even for Hawke, who had come out of it wondering if his eardrums and sinuses would ever be the same again and with more than a few loose teeth.
His comment to Dom over the radio about being 'born in that briar patch', had been more bravado than anything else …. Designed to reassure Dominic that he was ok and not reduced to vapour or pulverized atoms at the bottom of the canyon ….
It had called for some real 'flying by the seat of his pants' reactions, and he knew that if the visor on his helmet hadn't automatically engaged, he would probably have been blinded by the white light emitted from the explosions.
That much excitement he could do without.
So this gentle little spin out over the ocean was just what he needed.
It meant he could relax a little more than usual and allow his mind to wander ….
At present he was thinking about Alex ….
And the very pleasant evening they had spent together at her place.
She had made dinner, a new vegetarian recipe, in his honour, although he had hated to tell her that the jury was still out on that one ….
He had eaten if dutifully, just the same ….
Although he suspected that the clenched jawed way he had swallowed each mouthful might just have given him away ….
And then they had gone for a gentle stroll, hand in hand, on the beach, at sunset ….
That was fast becoming a habit that he was enjoying ….
Then they returned to her little house and she had opened wine and put music on the stereo and they had played backgammon for a little while.
When the Vivaldi piece had finished playing she had got up from the couch and thumbed absently through her record collection and he had gone to stand behind her, putting his hands gently around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder so that he could see the record sleeves as she thumbed through them.
He had liked the way that she had relaxed in his arms and leaned back slightly against him.
They were mostly classical music, but she had a few 'pop' records too, by artists that he had vaguely heard of, but which were not to his taste …. And others he had not heard of at all because they were English or European ….
And he had suddenly had an idea for a nice way to end their romantic evening together.
When she had reached out for the Brahms Cello Sonata No 1 in E Minor, knowing that as a cellist himself, Hawke would approve, he had stilled her hand and she had turned slightly in his arms to face him, frowning. "What? You've got something against Brahms?"
"No …. But it's not the kind of thing you can dance to …." He had smiled suggestively then and wiggled his hips.
"Dance? Are you feeling ok?" She had grinned back. "You don't have a temperature do you? C'mon String, you know what an uncoordinated klutz I am …." She had turned back then to slot the Brahms back into its place in the record collection.
"I'm feeling kinda brave …."
"Did you bring your steel capped work boots with you …. Or maybe I should just ring the hospital and pre-book an X ray slot for you …. And all those lovely broken toes you'll have …."
"That won't be necessary …. Not with what I have in mind …." He had chuckled softly, nuzzling the back of her neck with his nose.
" Ok …." He had felt the delightful shiver run down her spine as he had tickled her neck with his nose. "How about this?" She had thumbed through the record collection and pulled out a selection of Strauss waltzes.
"Too energetic …. Try something a little slower …. Something that you don't have to move your feet to …." He had hinted.
"The only kind of dancing I know that doesn't require you to move your feet is the sort they used to do in discos back in England, when we danced around our handbags! And you didn't need a fella to do that kind of dancing with either …."
He had let out a soft groan.
"Perhaps you should demonstrate …."
"Put some smoochy music on …. and I'll do just that …."
"Smoochy, eh …. Mmmmm …. Well, I guess …. There's always good old reliable Mr Manilow …."
"Who?" She had nudged him gently in the ribs with her elbow. "Whatever mood you might be in, Barry Manilow has a song for it …. Falling in love …. Falling out of love …. Unrequited Love …. Love going bad …. He has a heart wrenching, stomach clenching, gut aching ballad to suit …."
"Really? Ok …. Not usually my cuppa tea …." He had mimicked her English accent, badly, and she had pulled a face, crossing her eyes. "If the wind changes, you'll stick like that …." He had had to force himself to smother a grin at her zany expression. "But ... Like I said, I'm feeling brave …."
"Don't say you weren't warned …."
"On second thoughts …." He had reached out and selected another record from the collection, a compilation of 40's ballads which he had just spotted and handed it to her. "I think we'll be safer with this …."
"Spoil sport …." She had chuckled.
"Heart wrenching, stomach clenching, and gut aching we'll do another time …. Right now, I feel like smooching …."
He had moved away while she put the record on the turntable, and soon the soft strains of 'I'll Be Seeing You (In All The Old Familiar Places) ….' Filled her warm, pretty living room.
"C'mere …." He had spoken softly, opening his arms invitingly when she seemed reluctant to join him in the centre of the room. "I don't bite …." He had promised. "Even with broken toes …." He had chuckled, suddenly liking the coy look that had settled on her pretty face.
She had slowly walked around the couch and joined him in the centre of the small room, before an open fireplace that was there mainly for its decorative purposes, and caught her bottom lip between her teeth pensively.
"Relax …" He had coaxed. "You need to come a little closer …." He had invited. "Now …. This hand …." He had taken one hand, her left, and placed it gently on his right shoulder, her open fingers splayed against his back. "Goes here …. That's right …. And this hand …." He had captured her right hand and pressed soft, warm lips to her slender, delicate fingers, before taking her hand gently in his own. "Goes here …."
"Mmmm …. Yes …. It's coming back to me now …." She had smiled demurely then, and he knew that she was getting into the spirit of things with him …. Catching onto his mood ….
"So, this hand must go here …." She had taken his right hand and placed it gently on the curve of her left hip, his open fingers also splayed into the small of her back. "And this hand must go here …." She had captured his right hand and pressed a soft kiss into his work roughened palm before setting it down carefully on her left shoulder.
"You're a quick study …." He had chuckled softly, gazing into her warm sherry brown eyes, which had been dancing with amusement.
"Thank you, Mr Hawke …. You are not the first to have commented …." She had batted her eyes then and affected her best sultry, Southern Belle accent, which had almost been his undoing.
"So …. What next? Is this the bit where I toss you over my shoulder, then put my foot on your stomach and give a victory salute to the crowd, while the referee counts you out?"
Unable to stop himself, taken completely by surprise, Hawke had let out a loud guffaw, intrigued by the way her mind worked and her unique sense of humour, clearly able to see in his mind's eye, Alex standing over his prone body, fist raised to a cheering crowd and a look of pure glee on her beloved face.
He had quickly pulled himself together and fixed her with one of his no nonsense glares.
It had been obvious that she too was wrestling to keep a straight face, but she persisted and somehow managed to dredge up a look of pure, wide eyed innocence.
"No …." He had growled.
"No?"
"No …. Wires crossed, I think …. That's wrestling …. Not waltzing …." Although if he were absolutely honest with himself, he wouldn't mind doing a little wrestling with her any time soon ….
"My apologies …. Maybe you could demonstrate that another time too …." Her voice had dropped slightly and the smoky, sexy quality of it had sent a delicious shiver running down his spine ….
Oh yes ….
They were both definitely on the same wavelength ….
"Don't tempt me …." He had growled back.
"So, you were going to tell me what happens next …."
"This …." He had pulled her roughly against his hard, lean body, tightening his arm around her waist and she had let out a softly gasped "Oooh …." As her body had come into contact with his and her eyes had been wide, her expression startled as she had gazed up into his face.
"Now what …." She had enquired breathlessly, gazing deep into his blue eyes.
"Sway …."
"Sway ….?"
"Yeah …. Sway …. Like this …." He had demonstrated by moving very slightly from side to side, mostly from the hips, keeping his feet still.
"That's it? Sway?"
"That's it …. You can do that, can't you?"
And she had promptly demonstrated most effectively that she could indeed do that, her slender body moving gently in time to the music, her hips swaying very provocatively against his.
They had quickly settled into a nice, gentle rhythm, and it had seemed like the most natural thing in the world for her to rest her cheek against his chest, her slender, slightly shorter frame fitting just nicely against his lean body, her head dropping gently to rest on his shoulder, and he lifted his chin slightly to rest it lightly atop her head …. Pressing a soft kiss into the downy softness of her lemon scented hair.
Her arms had wound more tightly around his waist ….
And both had let out contented sighs ….
It had also seemed like the most natural thing in the world to both of them when he had cupped the back of her head with one hand and used the other hand to tilt her chin back slightly so that he could claim her lips with his own ….
A most delicious and sensual kiss that had seemed to last eternally ….
And had left them both breathless and flushed and wanting more ….
"Some day soon …. you are really going to have to show me how to do this properly …." She had sighed softly against his lips as he had bent to claim them once more, and Stringfellow Hawke had known instinctively that she was talking about an entirely different kind of 'dancing' ….
"Hey, String …. Don't you think we should be thinking about turning this little lady around …. Hello? Earth to Hawke …. Hey, dream boat! Beautiful dreamer …. Wake unto me. Starlight and dewdrops are waiting for thee …. Sounds of the rude world heard in the day, Lull'd by the moonlight have all passed away! "
Dominic Santini's rough baritone voice suddenly burst into his ear, via his helmet and the volume and abruptness of it startled Hawke out of his reverie, making him jump in his seat, and the movement caused him, involuntarily, to slightly increase the pressure of his fingers on the joystick, causing Airwolf to suddenly bank sharply to the left ….
"Oh you are still there …. Thought maybe you bailed out …." Dominic grumbled. "Ya know I could swear there's something wrong with the radio …." He banged the side of his helmet with a flat palm. "Got kind of a …. screechin' noise banging away in my ear for the last half an hour …. Like an Irish Banshee howlin' …. Or maybe a lesser spotted Stringfellow Hawke warbling!"
Having quickly corrected Airwolf's course, Hawke closed his eyes and let out a soft sigh.
"You didn't care for the in-flight entertainment?" He drawled sarcastically.
"Stick with the cello kid …. You can't carry a tune in a bucket …." Dominic laughed then.
"Is something wrong back there?"
"No …. Was just looking at the fuel gauge, is all, and thought maybe you should know that we will soon be at the point of no return …."
"I know that …." Hawke growled, although he was aware that he had maybe taken his eye off the ball …. Just for a moment ….
And he pulled up on the control stick, executing a perfect Immelmann turn, then straightened Airwolf up and headed back toward the US coast.
"Gee …. I wish you would warn a guy when you do something like that …." Santini grouched from the rear compartment. "Anyway, glad to have you back with us though …. The rest of us were down here at angels 20 while you were up there on cloud nine, torturing what used to be a very pretty song way back when …. and making cow eyes at some dame whose name you won't even tell me …."
Hawke closed his eyes and let out another deep sigh.
So Dominic was on that jag again ….
The younger man knew that he would get no peace with Dominic in this kind of mood ….
At first he had kept his friendship with Alex to himself ….
He hadn't wanted to get anyone's hopes up …. Including his own …..
But it had been almost two months now ….
And even if he said so himself ….
Things were progressing nicely ….
Very nicely indeed ….
If last night was anything to go by ….
He couldn't see any harm in telling Dominic her name ….
Although he suspected that the older man would not just be satisfied with that.
"Ok, Dom …. You win …." He sighed softly. "Her name is …. Alex …."
"Alex …."
"Alexandra Beecham …."
"And is this the same lady that has had you all dewy eyed and dopey for the last couple of months? I know I told you to have fun, but you've been mooning around like a love struck teenager …. Gazing off into the distance, day dreamin' …. Sighing …. Grinning like an idiot …. Oh, it's enough to make a guy sick …. Someone fetch me a bucket …. Pleeeeeeeeseeeee!"
Hawke remained stubbornly silent.
"So, where did you meet her? And why the hell haven't you invited me to dinner so I can meet her?"
Again Hawke remained tipped lipped.
"Ah, c'mon String …. Give …."
"We're taking things pretty slowly, Dom …."
"Really? Could have fooled me, if you'd fallen any faster you'd have broken the sound barrier! This goes back to the day you went to the school with Rutherford …. I'm not that dumb, String …. I knew something was going on when you got back …." Santini laughed then. "Am I right or am I right?"
"Yeah, Dom …." Hawke conceded on a soft sigh. "You don't miss a thing, do you."
"So?"
"She's a teacher …. A colleague of Bob Rutherford's wife, Sophie …. And yes, I met her that day …."
"Is she pretty?"
"Dom …."
"Ok, ok …. We'll take that as a given …. We know there's nothing wrong with your eyesight …. And you have …. reasonable taste …."
"Dom …." There was a warning in Hawke's voice now, not to push him too far.
"Is she younger than you …. Older than you …. Same age maybe …." Santini ploughed on regardless.
"She's younger than me, Dom …. She'll be twenty three in a couple of weeks' time …. but she's no child …." There was an edge to his voice now almost as though he expected Santini to jump in with some disapproving comment about her being jail bait, or his being a cradle snatcher ….
However, for once in his life, Dominic Santini remained silent.
"She teaches Math and Computer Sciences …. She likes fine art and classical music, Barry Manilow love songs, a Swedish group called ABBA and an English Rock group called Queen …. Dickens …. Byron and William Blake poetry …. Sentimental old black and white movies …. sweet white wine, cheeseburgers with ketchup …. Walking on the beach …. Slow dances …. And sunsets …. She's a brown eyed brunette, about five feet five inches tall …. And she's English …. Anything else you want to know, like her vital statistics?"
"Geez …. No need to be like that …. I'm just happy for you …. And curious …. That's all …." Dominic Santini sighed into his ear now. "Does she make you happy?"
"What do you think, Dom?"
"I think you …. You've been like the proverbial dog with two tails, is what I think …." Santini chuckled then. "What about her family?" Hawke could hear the unasked question in Santini's voice ….
What do they think of her seeing a guy your age?
"She has no family, Dom …."
"Well she does now …."
"Dom …. I appreciate the thought …. And I'm sure Alex would too …. But I already told you, we're not rushing into anything …. We're both just taking each day as it comes and enjoying each other's company …."
"Ok …. Well, I say, anyone who can put a smile on your face, like the one you've had for the past few weeks, is ok by me …." Santini chuckled again. "I'd still like to meet her though …."
"You will, Dom …. In time …. I promise …."
"Ok, I'll take your word for it …. Just remember I ain't getting any younger …."
"I promised, didn't I?"
Both men grew silent then, each lost in their own thoughts. However, it was Dominic Santini who eventually broke the silence.
"Hey, String …. Did I tell you I was going up to Seattle to that Air Race Show I was talking about last week …."
"No .…" Hawke replied succinctly.
"Oh …. Well, I am." Santini advised.
"When?"
"Weekend after next …. Gonna fly up on the Friday afternoon …. You don't mind holding the fort for a while, do you?"
"No Dom …."
Indeed, that fitted in rather well with the plan that was beginning to form in Hawke's mind.
Alex would be having her birthday that Saturday, May 19th, and he had almost made up his mind to invite her up to the cabin.
It would be the first time that they had spent any significant time alone together ….
And with Dom away at the Air Race Show, and a discreet word with Michael Coldsmith Briggs III, Hawke could almost guarantee that they would have complete privacy ….
No chance any uninvited guests would just drop in ….
After Alex's reaction to his kisses last night he was left with no doubt that they were both ready to move their relationship up a level ….
Up until last night, he had always held back just a little ….
Not wanting to rush her before she was ready …. Not wanting to rush headlong into anything too serious too quickly himself ... Memories of Gabrielle still lingering in the back of his mind …. Making him hesitate ….
And aware that Alex was still so young …. So innocent ….
However, last night, locked in his arms, Alex had returned his kisses so ardently, responded to his caresses so passionately, it had taken all his strength and willpower to say goodnight to her and drive away ….
Hers had most definitely not been the reactions of a child ….
Kissing her deeply on the lips one last time, as they had said goodnight on her front door step, even in the moonlight, he had clearly been able to see in her eyes what she had obviously been reluctant to put into words ….
Love ….
She hadn't been trying to hide it or deny it ….
She just hadn't wanted to give the word voice ….
Probably afraid that it would somehow spoil things between them ….
Hawke knew what that felt like ….
It was one of the reasons why he too had kept silent ….
Not wanting to scare her away ….
Inviting her up to the cabin was a significant step.
It would mean that he would have to talk about himself …. His family …. Open up to her about things that were intensely private ….
And painful ….
How could he not?
She would see the artwork …. The photo's of Dom and St John …. His parents …. And she would, quite understandably, have questions ….
Until now he had been reluctant to let her that deeply into his personal life.
So far, they had spent most of their time in neutral locations like restaurants or drive in movie lots …. Or, more recently, at her pleasant beach house.
He had always been an intensely private and reserved man.
He had wanted to be absolutely sure that she wanted the same things from their relationship as he did …. The same kind of intimacy that he longed for ….
And after last night ….
He no longer had any doubts ….
It was what they both wanted …. And now they were both ready …..
"Hey, did you nod off again up there …."
"No, Dom …. Just thinking …."
"Planning to do something special for your young lady's birthday, I'll bet …."
"Nothing gets by you, does it, Dom …."
"Special …. And romantic …."
"Yeah …." Hawke sighed deeply. "That's the idea …. Now do you think we could finish this flight without an in depth analysis of my love life?" He drawled. "I know it's probably a bit late in the day to be asking …. But how do you feel about being back there? With all that stuff to play with …. I know it was a bit overwhelming in the beginning … Especially with me barking in your ear ….."
"Well, I can't deny that I'd much rather be up there where you are …. But …. I'm finding my way around now …. Why? You think I'm not good enough …"
"Dom …." Hawke cut in. "Enough already …. Please let's not go down that road again …." He sighed deeply. "I don't think you are too old …. I don't think you are 'past it'. And I certainly don't want another Santini knuckle sandwich for lunch …. I'm still paying the orthodontist to fix the teeth you rattled with that last punch. Once and for all, the only one who has a problem with your age is you …. And next time you get your blood up and want to accuse me of making you feel old, just remember who I turned to …. to help me with this baby …. Who I trusted most in the word to watch my back …. We're a team …. You're doing great …. I just wanted to make sure that you weren't feeling out of your depth …. I happen to think it's terrific the way you've picked things up …."
"Oh …."
"When I first saw all those lights and buttons, I thought someone had Shanghaied me and I'd woken up on Broadway …. Did I ever thank you for not complaining when I lost patience …. And I know I did …."
"Hey, steady kid …. Two compliments in five minutes …." Santini chuckled. "Well, we were in kind of a sticky spot …. You needed the weapons and I was sitting here with my thumb up my ass ….." Dom chuckled then. "You were a big help …. How in the hell did you manage to learn all this stuff, as well as all the flight controls and the computer stuff?"
"I had a very good teacher …."
Dominic Santini could not see it, positioned as he was behind Stringfellow Hawke's seat, but a soft smile curled at Hawke's lips as he thought about Alex once more.
Strange how quickly Alex had come to replace Tasha in his memory ….
"Let's take this baby home …. Turbos …."
"Turbos." Dom confirmed hitting the required control and Airwolf smoothly increased speed.
"Hey String …."
"Yeah, Dom?"
"I'm happy you're happy …."
Again Hawke found himself smiling.
Happy just didn't describe it ….
No words could ….
But as words went, …. it would do for now ….
"I'm happy you're happy, I'm happy …." He grinned then and heard Santini's exasperated sigh. "But it doesn't matter how much you plead …. No matter how much you beg me …. I can't …. I won't marry you …."
"What? Clown …." But Dominic Santini was laughing now too, and it felt so good to both men. "Oh I see …. All those empty promises …. Throwing me over for a younger model …. And all those hungry mouths to feed …." Santini lamented.
"If any of those hungry mouths can be traced back to me that would be one helluva miracle …." Hawke drawled, entering the spirit of the thing.
Santini roared with laughter.
"How could you …. When I've given you the best years of my life …."
"You'll know the answer to that question when you meet my lady, Dom …." Hawke chuckled, trying to pull himself together, unable to wipe away the tears of laughter that were rolling unchecked down his face because of the helmet he was wearing ….
Dominic Santini did not say anything, but he was thinking to himself that he already liked this Alexandra Beecham ….
She had worked a miracle on his young friend ….
Restoring him to health ….
And happiness ….
And given the older man back the boy he had discovered through his old friend Steven Hawke ….
The shining, smiling youth he had come to love as a son ….
The often sickly boy who had, nonetheless, feared nothing and no-one and who had possessed a quick wit and a wicked sense of humour …. Possessing a strength and determination that was beyond his years …. Even back then ….
It was so good to have him back after all these years ….
This was the Hawke that Santini remembered ….
Hawke as a mischievous child …. Always into everything, inquisitive and ebullient and so full of life ….
Dominic Santini could not wait to meet Alexandra Beecham …. For he knew that he had a lot to thank her for ….
He could not believe that a scant few weeks before he had feared for his young friend's sanity ….
Watching the guilt and the grief eat away at him ….
The transformation was indeed miraculous ….
Santini had thought this happy-go-lucky, carefree, witty young man lost to him forever ….
Please God …
Long may it last ….
Let this one work out ….
Because if anything happens to this girl ….
He didn't dare think about it ….
Out of the corner of his eye he suddenly spotted a blue light flashing insistently on his right, quickly accompanied by an irritating beeping sound, much like a pager going off.
"Uh oh …. I wonder who that could be …." Dominic reached up, his finger hovering over a switch on the upper left of another console, close to the switch marked Strike Missiles, which he had learned activated the radio descrambler.
"It's a fair bet it's the guy who's footing the bill …."
"Are you interested in a cheery word from our sponsor?"
"Could be he has something important to tell us …. Like there's a sale on at Bloomingdales and he needs us to go pick up his nice new shiny white boots …."
This made Santini splutter out loud.
"Better not keep him waiting any more …." Hawke chuckled, and waited for Dominic to flip the switch. "Hello Michael …. And what can we do you for you today?"
"Hawke? What the hell is that racket? I can hardly hear you …."
The 'racket' was Dominic Santini trying his damnedest not to snigger, still tickled by Hawke's last remark.
"Oh? What racket is that, Michael?" Hawke enquired innocently, turning slightly in his seat to scowl at Dominic Santini …. rolling his eyes in exasperation at the older man in the back seat who was turning blue in an effort not to laugh out loud.
"That! Hissing noise …." Archangel's irritation grew.
"Oh …. Can't hear it at this end …. Must be something wrong with the radio …."
However, just at that moment, Santini lost his battle and let out a loud shout of laughter ….
"Dammit …. You trying to deafen me!" Archangel howled. "What the devil is it …."
"Static?" Hawke suggested innocently.
"Static my eye …."
"Ok …. it's Dom …. Very funny man, Dominic Santini …. He just loves to laugh at his own jokes …. He was just running a few by me …. He's thinking of auditioning to be a stand up comedian …." Hawke deadpanned.
"My God, Hawke …. What the hell happened to you? Did you get a sense of humour transplant? Did the two of you suddenly turn into Laurel and Hardy?"
"Abbott and Costello …." This from Dominic Santini, who was laughing so hard tears were streaming down his face, and if he wasn't careful he was going to need a bathroom real soon ….
"If you'd brought Tet along you could pass for the Marx Brothers!"
Michael Coldsmith Briggs III winced as raucous laughter from both men burst from the radio.
Dominic Santini was incorrigible, but Hawke ….
He had always been the most cold hearted, up tight, humourless individual Archangel had ever had the misfortune to meet ….
He didn't know if he approved of this new side to Stringfellow Hawke or not ….
He had noticed over the months they had been working together that the younger man's attitude toward him had changed ….
Softened ….
He wasn't quite so inclined to throw a punch first and ask questions later …
Even Marella had noticed that his whole demeanour had changed …. That he seemed to be happier …. Less inclined to be so moody and down right brooding ….
And Marella suspected that it had something to do with a woman ….
Female intuition …. She had tapped the side of her nose knowingly …..
Archangel wasn't so sure ….
It was still a little too soon after Gabrielle ….
He had been there …. He had seen what her death had done to Hawke ….
But, if Marella was right ….
Maybe it was no bad thing ….
Hawke was certainly more approachable these days and that made working together and getting him to do the stuff that wasn't always on the level much easier ….
"A little laughter never killed anyone, Michael …." This, from Dominic Santini now, who was still struggling to regain his composure.
"Clowns to the left of me, jokers to the right …. And here I am stuck in the middle with you two …. Maybe I'd better call back later …. When you've both come back down to earth …."
"Hey, settle down back there, Dom …. I think the man has something serious to say …."
"Indeed I do …. Something just about as serious as it can be …."
"Then you'd better get it off your chest, Michael …." Dominic Santini forced himself to calm down now. "Before it chokes you …."
"All right Dominic …." Archangel let out a deep sigh.
What was it with these two lately ….
Their sense of humour and fun was infectious ….
"Once upon a time, there was a man called Stringfellow Hawke, who after doing a wonderful thing for his country, by repatriating something that some nasty man from a very hot country decided he wanted …. Took that something that didn't belong to him and refused to give it back unless he got his own way …. but instead of getting mad, the very important man in the oval office, in the big white house, in the big city thousands of miles away, decided to let Hawke keep this precious thing, so long as he agreed to use it from time to time, to help the very important man get what he needed to keep him in the oval office, in the big white house, in the big city thousands of miles away …. Therefore saving his beloved country from a fate worse than death …. Weekly …."
Archangel winced again as more raucous laughter burst from the radio.
"I think I heard this story before, String ….
"Does it have a happy ending, Dom?"
"Oh pleeeeeseee, children …." Archangel sighed, but found to his surprise that he was grinning like a fool. "I think maybe the two of you need a vacation …. There's a particularly good insane asylum I could recommend …."
Hawke and Santini had already dissolved into laughter once more and there would be no getting through to them now, so Archangel decided to cut his loses.
"I called to let you know that I will be taking some leave for a couple of weeks…. On the advice of my doctor …. Seems my blood pressure is through the roof, due to my associating with certain …. Excitable types …."
"Do he mean us?
"I think he do …."
More sniggers wafted over the airwaves ….
"He most certainly does …" Archangel sighed. "I just thought, before I put myself on a plane to Barbados …."
"Oooooh"
"I thought that I should warn you that D G Bogard finally managed to work his way out of that lowly Air Force Colonel's strangle hold, so …. whilst I am away …."
"Terrific …."
The amusement had gone from Hawke's voice now, and he was suddenly as sober as a judge.
"More cat and mouse …. Hide and seek …." He intoned.
"Maybe …. Maybe not …. He didn't exactly win any friends and influence people with his antics …. his credibility certainly took a knock .… but if I were you gentlemen, I'd keep your pretty heads down and don't get into any trouble you can't get out of by yourselves …"
"Gee Michael, thanks for the advice …."
"You're welcome Dominic …. Actually, it might be better if you didn't get into any kind of trouble at all …. Archangel out …."
"Why does he always have to do that?"
"What?"
"Pee on our parade like that?"
"He probably thought he was doing us a favour, Dom …. Let's just hope Bogard doesn't manage to get control of another satellite, because there aren't too many places around here we can hide this baby …."
"He don't exactly like you …. That D G Bogard …."
"I didn't much care for him either …. We handled him before …. Maybe he'll think twice about trying again …."
"And maybe tomorrow I'll wake up and my hair will be back to its thick, lustrous chestnut brown instead of this thinning grey stuff that wouldn't keep a mouse's ass warm at night …."
"Well …. At least we know what to look out for …." Hawke let out a deep sigh then. "We'd better get the Lady safely tucked away …. Don't want to take any unnecessary risks …."
"You think she'll be safe at the Lair?"
"Archangel didn't say for sure that she wouldn't be …. And if we don't take her up for a while, there won't be any chance of anyone being able to track us …."
"So we all get to go on vacation …."
"Yeah …. Well, let's just hope it's not a permanent arrangement …."
