See Prologue for Rating, Disclaimer and Author's Notes.
A/N 2: The muses wouldn't let me sleep until I finished this, stubborn little things that they are.
Airwolf~~~Airwolf~~~Airwolf~~~Airwolf~~~Airwolf
Chapter Three:
Several hours later, another woman hung up a phone after a rather... enlightening conversation. Stringfellow Hawke is an unmitigated ass who's obviously taken one too many blows to the head. Michael has his moments, but he's never done anything that crass. Regardless, the fact remains... we have to find Cait, ideally before the Committee finds out about it and decides to drastically shorten her life expectancy. Cait would have no way of knowing the Committee's default reaction; even after the missions in Airwolf, her exposure to that bunch of sharks has been limited. But Hawke should have known what they'd do if an Airwolf-rated pilot goes missing. For Pete's sake, he was the one sent to deal with the 'missing' pilots last time, and he dealt with them more than permanently enough to suit the Committee. He should have realized that where Airwolf's concerned, they won't draw any distinction between Moffett and Cait. Inasmuch as they care, a security risk is a security risk is a security risk, and all are to be handled the same way – with extreme prejudice.
Alright, so... she knew how she felt about it. How Cait felt about it would be obvious, but complicated. She's not headed back to Texas, didn't stop back at her house, isn't hiding at the hangar, and wouldn't go up to the cabin right now unless Hawke or Michael sedated her, tied her up, and dragged her back there himself. So where would she go?
Something came to mind that Cait had told her a while back, having mentioned that Dom was the only other one who knew. Cait's greatest comforts, particularly in light of some of the things she saw while on Airwolf missions, were faith, belief, and trust. Faith – likely a product of her Irish-Catholic upbringing – in a Being higher than herself, belief that she was doing the right thing, and trust in the two rather extraordinary men with whom she faced life and death situations on a rather routine basis. Cait... would go to church.
It took Marella only seconds to grab her keys, purse and sidearm and slip out the door.
Airwolf~~~Airwolf~~~Airwolf~~~Airwolf~~~Airwolf
Now what? If I go home, it's only to pack a bag. Nothing short of divine intervention's going to get me back up to Hawke's place at the moment. I know Dom's concerned and I hate makin' him worry, but if he knows where to find me, he'll be torn between keepin' it a secret and tellin' Hawke... and I don't want to see him right now. I don't want to see anybody right now. God, how am I gonna manage this mess? Cait sat in a back pew in the smallest Catholic church in the area, head bowed. The church was familiar, at least, being the one that she attended every Sunday she was in town. It was the circumstances surrounding today's visit that were cause for concern, and they weren't something she felt ready to share with any more people just yet. For what was truly the first time in her life, Caitlin O'Shannessy was entirely unsure of herself.
I'm not sure where to go from here, Little One. Dom would love nothin' more than to be a grandpa, I think, and I want you more than anything. I just never thought I'd be doin' this on my own, and I have to admit, I don't know how good a job I'll do at bein' your mama. Your daddy's not the only one runnin' scared right now, but there are some things that won't change no matter how frightened I am. I may not be certain of a whole lot, but I do know I'm not gonna let anyone hurt you... not even your daddy... or my mom. How do I explain your grandma, kiddo? She's scared, too, I suppose, but not of losin' the people she loves, like Hawke is. No, she's scared of what people will think if her youngest comes home with a baby and no husband, so scared of what they'll say, she can't see what she's giving up. Dad, now, that wouldn't have bothered him any. "Come home, Catie-girl." That's what he would have said... after I talked him out of having a 'chat' with your daddy, that is. I'll tell you a secret, Little One. Mamas try to fix all the hurts, all the scrapes their kids get, and I'll be no different with you, I know... but mamas are people, too, and we aren't always so good at taking care of our own hurts. Your granddad not being here... that's an awful big hurt. Your daddy not being around is just as big a one. I'll figure it out, though. Even if it's just you and me, we'll do fine. I'll make sure of that.
Cait felt the sting of tears in her eyes and struggled to make sure they wouldn't fall, knowing if she started crying now, she wouldn't be able to stop. I can't afford to be weak or appear weak right now. I've a lot to do, and not much time to do it in if I want to avoid Hawke until he gets his head screwed back on straight... might be a long wait. It still leaves me at square one; what's my next step?
She saw a flash of white off to one side and lifted her head, both relieved and wary of the 'angel' who slipped into the pew next to her. "I was lookin' for solitude when I came here, Marella." Out of concern for the few others who were also praying in the church, Cait kept her voice low.
Archangel's most trusted aide followed suit and kept her own voice barely higher than a whisper. "Just me, Cait... I haven't called in yet to tell anyone I've found you."
"And you're not goin' to."
"I have to, Cait. You have no idea what cost my silence would exact... and I wouldn't be the one paying the price."
Cait shook her head. None of this was making sense. "What are you talking about, Marella?"
"Not here, Cait. This conversation can't happen here. Come back to my place." Cait, though admittedly preoccupied, couldn't possibly miss the worried look in Marella's eyes, and knew the situation had to be serious for the other woman's emotions to be visible to anyone else.
She stood... a little too quickly, she realized, as the inside of the church started to move like she was on a spooked horse. Thankfully, Marella's quick move to lend a supporting hand kept Cait from falling on her face... or decorating the church floor with her breakfast. When the building stopped moving, she took a steadying breath, and walked with the white-garbed spy out to her car. She stared in something approaching shock as Marella stopped next to a silver Corvette.
"Silver, Marella?"
"It's my personal car, Cait, not one I borrowed from work. When I'm off the clock – if I'm ever off the clock – I have a lot more leeway in color scheme; you've seen that at my apartment. The silver appealed to me."
Cait slipped into the passenger seat, relaxing for a moment on the sun-warmed leather. "The Firm must pay better than I thought."
"Well enough," Marella answered with a grin, "especially when part of the pay is use to play the stock market... with a careful hand, at least. I don't need much, and never have, but every now and then I like a little something extra, just for myself. This car was a rare indulgence." Cait could almost swear she saw a glint of mischief in the other woman's eyes, and wondered if Marella had done some discreet testing of her own with this car to see for herself just how fast it was. Something else in Marella's tone of voice also made Cait think there was a bit more to how Marella got the car than she was saying... but that was a thought she'd keep for later.
In less than ten minutes, Marella pulled into the underground parking garage of a rather upscale apartment building, one not all that far from Cait's own house. This was no surprise to Cait, though; she may not have seen the Corvette before, but she'd been a frequent guest to Marella's home and knew it almost as well as her own. The favor had been returned, as well, with Marella being a guest at her house on more than a few occasions... but the operative had always arrived in a 'business' car, the simple, white sedan routinely driven by Archangel's people.
The familiar, private settings seemed to drain the last of Cait's strength, and she sank onto Marella's exceedingly comfortable leather couch, wanting nothing more than to close her eyes and sleep for days. One last worry, though, kept the exhaustion at bay. "Don't tell them, Marella. Hawke will realize he's been an ass... eventually, but I really don't want to see him right now, and Michael would tell him. As for Dom, well... I don't want him caught in the middle, and he can't feel pressured to tell what he doesn't know."
"I have to tell Michael, Cait, before the Committee knows you've left Santini Air. He, at least, has to know where you are and that you're okay, so that he can assure those sharks that you haven't gone missing. I promise you that he won't tell anyone else where you are, just that you're taking some time off and he's well aware of your location."
Cait looked over at the other woman, still confused, but unable to mistake the concern in Marella's eyes for anything else. "Why would the Committee give a damn if I've left Santini Air?" Even voicing the question made Cait feel like she was making that painful choice all over again, but that pain was nothing compared to her shock and near-terror at Marella's answer.
"Cait, you're an Airwolf-rated pilot, and the Committee has only one response when an Airwolf-rated pilot pulls an unauthorized disappearing act. Whether that pilot is you or Moffett would make no difference to them, and they sure as hell wouldn't care that you're pregnant. My only hope of keeping you and your baby in the land of the living is to tell Michael precisely where you are and make sure he always knows. Frankly, I could give a rat's ass whether you ever talk to Stingfellow Hawke again, but I'll be damned if I let you die because he was an idiot and Committee's full of desk-jockeys who've forgotten that their operatives – and contractors – are still human beings."
TBC...