Chapter Nine

Whiteout Station - The Arctic Circle.

Somewhere on the Polar Ice Cap, Northern Alaska.

Day Sixteen – Sunday, February 26th 1984.

Approximately 10.30am local time.

Leigh Roland let out a hearty sigh as she stared hypnotically out of the window at the endless swirling cascade of snow outside and felt the cold hand of dread closing around her heart.

She had been awake since the wee small hours, checking regularly on Dominic Santini, who remained stable, but still very poorly, and listening to Stringfellow Hawke's fever induced night terrors and labored breathing.

Restless, her throat hot and raw, feeling feverish and claustrophobic, her heart racing and her mind in turmoil, unable to sleep, Leigh had pulled a chair up to the window and draping a couple of blankets around her shoulders, sat in thoughtful silence, watching the crystalline snowflakes tumble and twirl in their strange and beautiful dance, as the storm raged outside.

Despite her preoccupation, Leigh was aware of Stringfellow Hawke's restless tossing and turning, his occasional grunt and murmur and the odd louder shout of anxiety, her heart heavy in her chest, watching the storm grow worse not better, and she found herself praying that the dawn would not break, for this was one day that she wished she could keep at bay.

Of course, it had been a futile prayer, and as she was forced to watch the inevitable fingers of dawn light creep across the compound, Leigh grew more and more anxious, conscious of what Hawke intended to do and very much aware that no matter how stupid or reckless or dangerous it was, she would not be able to talk him out of it.

Nothing would ground him, not even her insistence on medical grounds.

Hawke was willing to risk his life to save her and Dominic Santini.

It was a sacrifice that he was willing to make.

She also knew that she would not let him go alone.

That was a sacrifice she was willing to make.

She had brazenly told him that she did not think that she could watch him die, and by that she had meant that she could not watch him die a long, slow, lingering and possibly painful death due to this wretched contagion ….

To then be left to face a similar fate alone.

So what, you'd rather go out in a blaze of glory too?

Then she had told him that she would not let him go up in the helicopter alone, because the idea of him dying alone broke her heart.

Damned if you do …. Damned if you don't ….

Heads you don't win, tails you lose ….

Look on the bright side kiddo; at least it will be over quickly!

Even better, maybe nothing bad will happen at all and nobody will have to die!

Talk about being a cockeyed optimist!

She did not know what she would do if something did go wrong up there.

She wasn't a pilot and could do nothing practical to intervene should disaster strike, but she could not help feeling that her being there might make a difference, might make Hawke take just that little bit more care, because he would not want her death on his conscience, nor Dominic Santini's either, for it they did crash and were killed, where would that leave his old friend?

Leigh did not want to die, but she knew one way or another, it was out of her hands now.

Inevitable.

She had accepted her fate, but she did still have a choice in the manner of her going.

To die quickly, with Hawke in that magnificent helicopter he called Airwolf, crashing to earth when the rotor froze solid and dense low cloud and the blizzard made it impossible to keep sight of the horizon, and the wind tossed them around like a paper airplane in a tornado, or, sick and exhausted, Hawke passed out at the controls.

Or die slowly, inside Whiteout Station, the last man standing, alone and terrified after having watched both Santini and Hawke die first ….

Of course, she did not doubt Hawke's bravery or his skills as a pilot, but this was no stunt, and Leigh was all too aware of the dangers of using helicopters in these kinds of climatic conditions. That was why they did not rely on choppers to supply the station on a regular basis. The rotors quickly iced over, high winds made them unstable, making it an almost impossible task for the pilot to sustain trim and torque and maintain straight and level flight and for these reasons, when the weather deteriorated they spent more time on the ground than in the air.

Hawke was undoubtedly a skillful and experienced pilot, but sick as he obviously now was, and exhausted too, he might not have quite the same control and quick reflexes as he would normally rely on.

Cynic.

Hawke doesn't want to die either, drongo ….

He's fighting to stay alive, and to save other lives too!

She told herself sternly, but she could not shake the dread that was settling all around her like a shroud.

Stringfellow Hawke was both stubborn and determined, to the point of self sacrifice, and no matter how bad the weather, no matter the dangers involved, he would try to take the beautiful chopper up, because he knew as well as she did that making contact with the outside world was their one last chance for survival.

Unless she could think of some other way to get the job done.

And if you can't?

Then I might just have to resort to slugging him, or sedating him until I can come up with something!

She had been sitting there, staring out of the window at the bleak, colorless world outside, praying for some miracle, that the weather would suddenly clear so that at least there would be one less danger to concern herself with, but continuing to note with deepening horror and fear that the sky was heavy with still more snow and that the low cloud had given way to a bank of thick fog which completely obliterated her view.

Staring so hard in fact that her eyes were burning and tears were streaming down her cheeks, as she wracked her brain and desperately sought a solution to her dilemma.

Trying to focus on something other than death.

At first, all she could think about was her confession to Hawke, that she still loved him, and the shame and guilt that had overwhelmed her ever since, because for a split second she had thought that she loved him more than Greg ….

She had wanted him to live more than she wanted her husband to live ….

It had only been for a split second, a moment of weakness brought about by frustration and disappointment and exhaustion, a rush of love and affection and the need to reach out to him, as she realized the futility of their situation, consumed by powerful emotions that threatened to overwhelm her.

Yet, even as she had clung on to him, Leigh had sensed Hawke's reticence, his deliberate withdrawal.

She had sensed that as far as Stringfellow Hawke was concerned, there was no future for the two of them, whether Gregory was alive or dead.

They had had their chance and there was no going back.

Whether Greg was alive or dead, all she could reasonably expect from Hawke in the future was his friendship.

She knew that he cared about her, but she also suspected that there was no place for her in his life.

She suspected that there was no place for any woman in Stringfellow Hawke's life, long term, and that was how he preferred it.

That way he only had to take responsibility for himself, placing no one else that he cared about in danger because of what he did for his government and his country.

After torturing herself for a little while, cursing her very human frailty at being able to love two men at the same time, in completely different ways, when for so long she had closed her heart off to any and all men, Leigh had realized that she still wasn't getting any where, that she was only making things more complicated and herself more miserable, and that there was no point in dwelling on it and making herself sick until she knew the outcome of this wretched mess.

What would she do if Greg was alive?

If she and Hawke and Dominic survived …. And Greg Chandler survived too?

What did the future hold for them?

Future?

There was no future beyond the next few hours!

What did it matter right now?

Leigh knew that these were things over which she had little or no control, and she also suspected that her fate was already sealed.

Everything was in the lap of the Gods ….

She was just feeling miserable, guilty and ashamed because she had made a fool of herself in front of Hawke.

But had she?

All she had done was told him the truth.

She did still love him, but that didn't mean that she expected anything from him. She had just needed him to know.

So why did it feel like she had betrayed her husband?

I'm sorry Greg ….

Please forgive me ….

I do love you ….

Just not in the same way as I have always loved him ….

And I think deep down inside, you always knew that ….

I'm sorry.

So sorry ….

I tried, but maybe it's just not in me to be able to love you as I love him.

I gave everything that I had, heart, body and soul, to him all those years ago, and I lost myself when I thought that I had lost him ….

I'm sorry ….

Thank you for loving me.

I wish I could have given you more …. Been a better wife ….

Oh God, I miss you so much ….

Please God, you're alive ….

It will be alright, when I see you again, my love ….

Everything will be alright.

Live, Greg ….

Live!

Leigh knew that part of the reason she was feeling so wretched was because she was physically and mentally exhausted and emotionally overwrought, focusing on the negative aspects of a future that she probably did not have, and so she had tried to pull herself together, telling herself that she had better damned well get her head out from up her backside and think of a way to make sure that she did have a future, she had told herself sternly.

She was not usually so fatalistic.

There had to be another way to achieve what they needed to do without anyone having to die in the process!

She was the only one who could look for other possibilities for Hawke had already made up his mind and accepted that there was no other choice.

So, Leigh had reigned in her wayward thoughts and pulled herself together, forcing herself to concentrate on the matter at hand, focusing her mind on the present situation and trying not to panic, pushing aside everything else and trying to get to the heart of the problem.

Think dammit!

And be more positive about it!

You are an intelligent woman …. You can find another way ….

You have to!

Start using your head, not your heart!

Closing her eyes, and taking in long, calming breaths Leigh had focused her mind at last.

First of all, she agreed with Stringfellow Hawke that they needed to make contact with the outside world, and to do that they had to get a radio signal to penetrate the storm front and the interference.

Leigh knew that it was Hawke's intention to take Airwolf up above the storm clouds, high enough up into the atmosphere where there was less chance of atmospheric conditions interfering with their transmission.

The greatest dangers in undertaking this mission came during take off and landing, when they would be at the full mercy of turbulence, zero visibility and freezing temperatures and Leigh could not help feeling that there must be a way to achieve their goal without having to place their lives in danger to do it.

For the last hour she had had a nagging feeling that the answer was there, just out of her grasp, and she was giving herself a headache, going round and around in circles.

Now, as she took in the appalling scene outside, the thick fog rolling across the compound and completely obliterating the view, Leigh again let out a heavy sigh and fought back a cough.

She could hear Hawke coughing on the other side of the room now and knew that he was rousing from sleep.

She knew that he would not be very pleased to find how late it was, but she had felt it best to let him sleep in, knowing that he needed the rest, and in the vain hope of delaying the inevitable, but now she had to accept that Hawke was set on this course of action, and she had to keep her word.

She could be forgiven for having second thoughts.

She was a survivor. A fighter not a quitter. She'd proved that all these years, hadn't she? Hanging on by her fingertips when it would have been so easy to just let go ….

She wasn't ready to die.

Too bad, kid. You picked a helluva day for it!

Leigh found herself smiling at her grim humor, and the irony of it.

Sunny days were meant for celebrations, like weddings, and rainy days had always seemed more fitting for funerals ….

Snap out of it kiddo!

What difference did it make what the weather was doing?

There was never a good day to die, and dead was still dead.

Except that if the sun had been blazing in the sky and they had all been wallowing in tropical heat, she would not be faced with the prospect of dying today at all!

For crying out loud woman, you've been here too long. You're obsessed with the ruddy weather!

Dottie and Eunice would be so proud of you!

A ghost of a smile touched her lip then at the wry humor and her mind presented her with the image of the two ladies pouring over their weather radar and delighting over the storm clouds gathering all around them, tickled about cyclones and anti cyclones and wind velocities and pressure fronts and the like ….

Dottie and Eunice ….

Two women who had truly loved their work and whom had reveled in the challenging Arctic environment.

Dottie and Eunice …..

Her friends.

Surrogate mother and older sister ….

Dottie and Eunice ….

Lord, how she would miss them ….

Swallowing down the lump of grief that had suddenly formed in the back of her throat, and as they began to mist with tears, suddenly, Leigh's eyes grew wide and her mouth dropped open, as the spark of an idea ignited in her brain and she found that she was holding her breath, as the seed began to germinate and take shape in her mind.

A wave of excitement rolled through her, her heart racing erratically in her breast and her hands starting to shake, as she took the thought and expanded upon it, hardly daring to hope that she had hit on a solution to her dilemma.

Calm down, kid!

Don't get carried away ….

You don't even know if what you have in mind is actually possible ….

Slow down ….

Don't go off half cocked and give that stubborn jerk Hawke a chance to shoot you down in flames ….

Suddenly Leigh felt the weight of something on her shoulder and span around in her chair to find Stringfellow Hawke standing behind her. He looked dreadful, face drawn and grey and clammy, eyes over bright and red rimmed, as he blinked and rubbed the sleep away and smothered a yawn with his other hand.

"Morning …. You were miles away," he greeted her gruffly then stopped in the process of yawning once more, as he realized that there was something different about Leigh Roland this morning.

For one thing, she didn't look like a woman who was about to join him in this hare brained scheme to fly Airwolf over the storm.

He had expected her to be quiet and withdrawn, thoughtful and pensive, bravely facing what needed to be done as she had bravely faced every other challenge in her young life.

He had expected a little irritability and impatience, maybe a few tears ….

Stoicism.

Resignation.

However, what he saw now surprised Stringfellow Hawke.

Her hands were trembling, and she seemed a little breathless, but there was a bright twinkle of excitement in Leigh's fiery amber eyes, and the air around her was positively crackling.

"G'day mate …."

"Why didn't you wake me?" Hawke grumbled now, eyeing her curiously, unable to put his finger on what was different about her, except that she looked pretty damned pleased with herself.

"I thought you could use the rest …."

"No …. You thought if you let me sleep long enough it would be nearly dark again by the time I came too and I'd have no choice but to change my mind about taking Airwolf up," Hawke growled. "And before you ask, no, I haven't changed my mind."

"You know, Cobber, you're such a delight first thing in the morning!" Leigh tried valiantly to smother a grin, but failed miserably. "And stubborn to boot! If you hadn't noticed, there's an old fashioned pea souper out there that would make Jack The Ripper rub his hands together in glee," she pointed out, still smirking.

"I don't care. I don't see that we have any other choice …." Hawke reminded, glaring at her and wondering what she found so damned amusing, because to his way of thinking, there was absolutely nothing funny in their present situation.

Then he told himself not to be so hard on her.

Maybe this was her way of facing the challenge ahead.

The Brits had their damned stiff upper lip, so maybe the Aussie's had some sick sense of fatalistic humor?

"How about I get you some hot coffee and something to eat, and then we sit down and talk about this rationally?"

"I understand if you've changed your mind, Leigh," Hawke told her in a soft voice now, trying to be understanding about how she must be feeling at that moment. "I can't blame you. The risk should be mine and mine alone …."

"Oh for crying out loud man, why are you in such a hell fire rush to kill yourself?"

The familiar spark of anger and defiance were back in her lovely amber eyes, and this gave him renewed hope that she wasn't getting hysterical and that she wasn't about to go to pieces on him.

"I'm not! I'm just doing what has to be done, Leigh. It's hard enough without you making it harder …." He confessed on a long, ragged breath.

"And what if I told you that maybe there was another way?" She declared, glowering back at him. "What if we could get the job done without either one of us having to leave the ground?" She arched an eyebrow sardonically at him now, but could not hide the triumph and excitement in her teddy bear eyes.

"I'd say you were delirious, or delusional," he scoffed with a soft snort.

"Oh hell, I'm probably both! After all I fell in love with you all those years ago!" Leigh countered, but the anger in her eyes had diminished now and she was still looking very smug and self satisfied.

Shaking off the last remnants of sleep, Hawke looked at Leigh Roland more closely and began to realize that she was serious.

"I know you're scared, Leigh, and that you'd do just about anything to stop me from flying today …."

"Right Cobber, especially when I don't think you really need to. Now, why don't you go and sit by the heater and I'll rustle up some coffee and some fruit, and then I'll come and check you over and while I'm doing that, I'll tell you what I have in mind."

Hawke stared down at her for a long moment, uneasy about her odd mood, but also more than a little curious to learn what she had come up with.

He wasn't a stupid man by any means, and if there was a plausible alternative to his suicide flight in Airwolf, then he knew that he should at least hear her out.

He wasn't reckless or foolhardy, and he didn't think that he was particularly brave either, so it had nothing to do with ego, and he knew that she was wrong about his being in a rush to die, but, he was prepared to do what needed to be done to ensure that the people that he loved survived this ordeal.

If it meant that he had to forfeit his life in the process, then so be it.

"How's Dom …."

"Don't change the subject, Hawke …."

Leigh shrugged off the blankets from around her shoulders, rose somewhat stiffly from her seat and stretched her body carefully.

"What harm can it do to hear my cockamamie idea? If you listen to what I've come up with and then at the end of it you still think it's dumb, you won't really have lost anything. The worst that can happen is that you'll have given yourself a little more time to wake up properly," she pointed out in reasonable tones, grinning at him softly now, amber eyes fizzing and sparkling with excitement. "And the weather chance to improve a little …."

"Do I have a choice?" Hawke growled.

Leigh Roland did not reply to his question, but continued to grin at him as she moved away from the chair and sauntered back across the recreation room toward the kitchen.

As he watched her go, Hawke realized that she was right.

What harm would it do to hear her out and find out why she looked so damned pleased with her self, after all, he really was in no rush to die, and she was right about his still being half asleep.

He cast a furtive, sideways glance out of the window at the murky bleached vista beyond and a shudder ran down his spine as he took in the dense fog rolling across the compound and the low, heavy cloud that hung like a shroud all around and the snow falling in a ceasless cascade.

It all looked the same and he suddenly felt very dizzy and disorientated as he realized that if he didn't know for certain that he was standing with his feet planted firmly on the ground, he wouldn't know which way was up or down.

She's right, buddy. It is madness to even think of taking off in this ….

There can only be one outcome ….

But …

At least there is one small consolation …. You won't see it coming!

Hawke expelled a deep breath as he dragged his eyes away from the disturbing view beyond the window, feeling his heart racing in his chest, nevertheless, as he raised his chin slightly in defiance of his wayward thoughts.

It had to be done, and he was the only one who could do it.

That was an end to it.

He would need all his wits about him when he took Airwolf up, so a cup of strong black coffee would just hit the spot nicely, he told himself, as he returned his attention to watching Leigh Roland walk toward the kitchen, and, he silently conceded, it wouldn't hurt to hear her out while he drank it.

"Alright Leigh …. This had better be good …." He grumbled as he began to follow Leigh Roland across the room. "And not just another once upon a time fairy story …."

As she disappeared through the swing fire doors to the kitchen, Hawke changed direction and steered himself toward Dominic Santini's sleeping form, however as he drew close and pulled up a chair, he was both surprised and delighted to see that his old friend had his eyes open.

"Hey Dom, how ya doing?" Hawke asked as he drew the chair up closer and reached out for Santini's hand, however the older man roughly pulled his hand out of Hawke's grasp and indicated that he wanted the younger man to remove the oxygen mask from his face.

"No Dom, you need that stuff …." Hawke protested softly.

"Get it off of me …." Santini whispered on a deep wheezy breath. "Get it off of me!" He became insistent, waving one hand in Hawke's face and clawing at the mask covering his nose and mouth with the other, his face growing redder and redder, eyes glittering with fever and anger, until the younger man relented and gently pulled the face mask down below Santini's chin.

"How are you?" Hawke asked again with genuine concern, leaning a little closer to get a better look at his dear old friend's face. However, before he knew what was happening, Dominic Santini's gnarled old hand snaked out and was reaching out to grab the front of his thick oatmeal colored pullover, dragging him closer until their noses almost touched.

"I ain't dead yet …. And I'm glad you agreed to hear the girlie out, String," Santini wheezed, rheumy grey eyes blazing with anger and indignation as they bored into Hawke's fever flushed face.

"'Cos I was startin' to think I was going to have to drag my old, fat, sick ass out of this bed and kick your butt all over this station to make you listen to reason!" Santini hissed.

"Take it easy Dom …."

"You can't possibly be thinking of flying in this kind of weather! Even in Airwolf. I'm real sorry to have to burst your little bubble there, but you don't leap tall buildings in a single bound. You're only human, String, and no matter how good you are, and remember, I know just how good you are …. If you try to take even that magnificent Lady up in an Arctic storm, you will crash and burn!" Santini rasped.

"Gee Dom, I guess you're hearing improved …." Hawke snarled, but he was secretly relieved and a little amused by his old friend's outburst. It was a good indicator that Dominic Santini still had some fight left in him after all.

"And it's so good to hear that everyone has such confidence in my flying skills," he added sarcastically.

"That's not what it's about, String, and you know it! Mamma Mia! Hey, kid, remember it ain't just your life involved here. You take the Lady up and something bad happens to you up there, then you take away any chance that that girlie and I might have of getting out of this alive …." He paused to drag in a long, gasping breath before continuing.

"I also know that out of some misguided sense of loyalty, she wouldn't let you do something that dumb alone, so if something bad does happen, guess what, that leaves me here, all on my lonesome, to die a long, lingering and maybe unnecessary death. Now even I know you're not that selfish!"

"Dom, I had to make a decision based on the facts that I had at the time, and last night I didn't think that there was any other choice. We're out of time and options," Hawke pointed out, gently prising Santini's fingers from the material of his pullover and sitting down at last, breathless and wheezing, dizzy and fighting back another coughing fit, knowing that his old friend wasn't fairing any better himself, and that his fears for his young friend were genuine.

"If Leigh gives me some new facts, Dom, then I might be prepared to revise my decision …."

"You look like hell, String," Santini observed, his expression softening just a little now. "You do know it would be insane to take her up, don't you?"

"Of course I do, Dom …." Hawke confirmed, suspecting that his old friend was testing him to make sure that his reason wasn't being clouded by the effects of the fever and the virus.

"And under normal circumstances you couldn't pay me enough to do something so irresponsible and reckless, but these aren't normal circumstances Dom …."

At that moment, Leigh Roland forced open the swing fire doors leading from the kitchen and wrestled her self and a tray loaded with crockery and a pot of fresh coffee through the swing fire doors into the recreation room, her eyes scanning the room for Hawke and finding him seated beside the now conscious Dominic Santini.

"Hey, look who's back with us," she grinned, depositing the tray on the nearest laminated table and hurried over toward Hawke and Santini. "How are you feeling?"

"I've been better, doc …" Santini confessed raggedly, gasping for air like a fish out of water. "But like I was telling the young fella here, I ain't dead yet!" He threw a pointed and meaningful look in Stringfellow Hawke's direction.

"So I see …." Leigh smiled benevolently as she started reaching out to slip the oxygen mask back over the older man's nose and mouth.

"And I don't plan to miss another meal …." Santini reached out to push her hand away as he choked out, smirking as he fought back another fit of coughing, stilling Leigh's hand for just a moment

"So why don't you bring that coffee and whatever delights you managed to rustle up for breakfast over here and tell us why you look like the cat that ate the canary."

"My pleasure, if you promise to suck on this for a little while longer …." She slid the mask back over Santini's face and turned to give Stringfellow Hawke a soft, reassuring smile as she then took the older man's pulse, finding that it was a lot faster than she might like, an indication that it was getting harder and harder for him to breathe, even with the oxygen, and that he was getting more and more tired.

Hawke watched as Leigh retrieved her blood pressure testing equipment from her little black medical bag, deliberately keeping her expression guarded, and then turned to him with a thermometer in her hand.

"And you, be a good bloke and suck on this for me …." She told Hawke without preamble slipping the thermometer between his lips as he opened his mouth to protest, or ask the question she could see burning in his eyes about whether Dominic Santini was better, or worse.

Hawke let out a deep sigh of frustration but did not offer any further protest as he watched Leigh take Dominic Santini's blood pressure, and then his temperature too.

Dominic was awake for now, and that had to be a good sign, didn't it?

Leigh was silently relieved to find that Dominic Santini's temperature had leveled out since the last time she had checked him over. Obviously the ice blanket therapy had helped. She didn't think that his fever had spiked yet, and it certainly hadn't broken, but for now, she was more concerned about his labored breathing.

Hawke too silently endured the same procedure of pulse and blood pressure testing before Leigh finally removed the thermometer from his lips.

"Well?" He demanded when she remained silent, noting down the readings on the medical charts she was keeping on their progress, her face an emotionless mask.

"Your blood pressure is up and so is your temperature. I'd say something has gotten you a little excited," Leigh smirked, covering her concern for him.

The increases in blood pressure and temperature were only slight and certainly not life threatening, but they were a strong indication that his body too was weakening and beginning to lose the battle against this damned contagion, and she knew that Hawke had to know it too, as she watched the irritation dance in his fever bright blue eyes.

He had to feel as bad as he looked ….

And still he persisted with this plan to take the helicopter up ….

Suddenly, Leigh Roland knew that it was even more important that she talk him out of this madness.

"I'm all agog …." Hawke drawled sarcastically.

"Are you always this charming first thing in the morning?"

"Not all of us can be a little ray of sunshine, at least not until after our first shot of coffee …."

"Is that a hint? Your wish is my command. Coming right up."

Leigh packed away her medical equipment and then returned to where she had left the breakfast tray on a table on the other side of the room. She poured out three cups of scalding hot coffee and then leaving the pot on the table, carried the tray back to Hawke and Santini, Hawke graciously moving aside his chair so that she could carefully set the tray down on the floor between their mattresses, and then she handed out coffee to both men and served bowls of canned peaches, then watched as both men began to eat.

"Ok Leigh, now you have our undivided attention …." Hawke prompted, chewing half heartedly on a mouthful of peaches, as he watched Leigh Roland pull up another chair and waited for her to sit down. "Tell us what you've come up with."

"Well actually, I thought about something that I said when we first got here, about the radio …." Leigh swallowed down a mouthful of coffee quickly. "When we realized that the power was out, I mentioned something about rigging something up with the radio in the chopper …." She reminded, but could already see the light of disappointment and dismissal in Stringfellow Hawke's eyes.

"I remember, but that was before we found out that someone had wrecked the radio," Hawke sighed impatiently.

"I know, but you guys never actually said if it was possible, to rig something up to the radio in Airwolf …."

"What do you have in mind?" This came from Dominic Santini who at least appeared to be curious and prepared to listen to her.

"We have battery operated walkie talkies …."

"They're only good for short range, Leigh. We'd never get a signal out to Nome or Knightsbridge …." Hawke's tone was haughty now.

"I know that," Leigh glowered at him. "Just answer me this, is there a way to link the walkie talkies to Airwolf's radio?"

"You mean hard wire?" This from Dominic Santini now who was regarding Leigh Roland with curiosity and new found respect.

"I don't know. I'm a doctor, not an electrician. You'd have to think of a way to do it, but maybe you'd only have to tune them into the same frequency …."

"Then what? We broadcast our favorite songs to die by to the penguins?" Hawke sneered. "And watch them do the skaters waltz!"

"Dammit Hawke, even a school kid knows there are no penguins in the North Pole!" Leigh railed, disappointed that he did not appear to be taking her seriously. "That's the South Pole, and frankly, if you haven't got anything constructive to say, Hawke, just button it!"

"Kids, kids, please …." Santini threw a withering look at Hawke who hung his head briefly but still looked irritated when he raised his head.

"Go on, doc," Dominic Santini prompted now, throwing his young friend another warning look, curious to see where she was headed with this idea, because he was beginning to see what she might have in mind.

"You're thinking that by linking the walkie talkies to Airwolf's radio we could somehow boost the signal?"

"Yes!" Leigh beamed at Santini now.

"But how?" Santini pressed, seeing the light of excitement in her lovely amber eyes once more. "We still don't have power, so we can't even use the transmitter mast to boost the signal," he pointed out.

"We might be able to salvage some of the more powerful transmitting circuitry from the radio to get a stronger signal …." Leigh pondered, throwing Santini a questioning look. "You guys would have to figure out a way to set it up …."

"Ok …. I getchya …." Santini grew thoughtful, and Hawke remained painfully tight lipped, watching the proceedings with a dubious scowl on his face.

"Is it possible? Is there a way to link the walkie talkies to Airwolf's radio system?"

"I'm not sure. I'm not saying that we can't though …. We could sure give it a try," Santini smiled at her now, touched by the genuine excitement he could see in her eyes and the hope and expectation written all over her face.

She was one smart kid, he had to give her that.

And maybe, just maybe ….

However, that still left them with one big problem.

"But, even if we did find a way to link the two radio systems, we'd still have the problem with interference," he reminded regretfully.

"I know, Dominic, but I think I know how we can overcome that," Leigh grinned, unable to hide the excitement in her eyes and in her voice now.

"We use a weather balloon," she told him simply.

"A weather balloon?" Santini echoed, his eyes growing wide in surprise now and out of the corner of her eyes, Leigh Roland noticed Hawke start.

"Yes. A high altitude weather balloon. The sort of thing that the folks down there in Roswell mistook for a UFO …." She grinned cheekily then hurried on when she noticed the sour look on Hawke's face.

"Dottie and Eunice used them all the time for their weather experiments, and I thought maybe there was a way we could use them too."

Leigh paused to catch her breath and waited for either man to make a comment, however they both remained silent, watching her with curiosity now.

"They're really quite sturdy things, made to survive the rigors of high altitudes and strong winds. I figured we could maybe attach a walkie talkie to a high altitude weather balloon filled with helium, and send it high enough to penetrate the weather system. The balloon would be tethered to the ground with high tensile steel cable, which could act as an antenna and a walkie talkie would act as a transmitter, boosting the signal from Airwolf," she finished, a little breathlessly and then waited for Hawke and Santini to react. "Don't you see fellas? That way we don't have to leave the ground at all …."

If she had expected Hawke to leap out of his chair and dance around excitedly, then she was sorely disappointed, for he just sat there, staring at her in grim silence while Dominic Santini regarded her with a frown, scratching absently at the thinning hair on the top of his head.

"Well?" she demanded petulantly after several minutes of silence, feeling her excitement draining away only to be replaced by fear. "Don't all cheer at once …."

"Dom?" Hawke ignored her outburst and turned to his old friend, eyeing him expectantly.

He couldn't believe that it might just be that simple.

The electronic equivalent of two tin cans and a piece of string ….

He couldn't believe that he hadn't thought of it himself, after all he had seen the deflated weather balloons in the meteorologists lab, and the reel of high tensile steel cable in one of the warehouses, along with the different colored gas cylinders ….

Neither he nor Dominic Santini were experts in electronics, but he suspected that between them they knew enough to rig something simple that might just work.

Hell it might just be as easy as tuning them into the same frequency!

"Ya know String, it might work …." Santini responded absently, echoing his young friend's silent thoughts, obviously still trying to piece together the feasibility of it in his mind, but Hawke could tell from the familiar twinkle in his grey eyes that his old friend approved of the scheme and thought that it had merit.

And that was good enough for him.

"You think so?"

"Sure. Sure," Santini replied with a little more enthusiasm now, a smile beginning to curve at the corner of his lips as he saw the potential.

"We might have to use more than one weather balloon, set up a kind of chain linking several walkie talkies on an open channel, relaying the signal …. Let me think about it some more, kid, but, ya know …. I think the doc could be on to something there."

Santini grinned approvingly at Leigh Roland now and she gave a deep sigh of relief, then, startling both men, she promptly burst into tears, obviously overwhelmed with relief that her suggestion had bought both herself and Hawke a reprieve from the death defying flight in Airwolf, rising swiftly from her seat and rushing out of the recreation room, leaving Hawke and Santini to look at each other in confusion.

"Does that mean she's happy?" Santini asked ruefully.

"I guess …." Hawke grinned now.

"Beautiful and smart."

"Yeah …."

"If a little …. Unpredictable …."

"Crazy like a fox …." Hawke agreed, still grinning.

"You know something kid, if you've got any sense, you won't let that one get away a second time …."

"I might not have any choice Dom, if her husband is still alive …."

"Huh? Is that likely?" Santini frowned, and Hawke realized that he had yet to explain to his old friend the deductions that he and Leigh Roland had come to while he had been incapacitated, and so began to explain in more detail what they had found during their investigation of the labs and their conclusion that at least some of the scientist from Whiteout might have been evacuated to safety after all.

"I wonder what that's all about?" Santini asked, inclining his head in the direction where Leigh Roland had taken off, through the fire doors leading to the accommodation module and sickbay. "Poor kid …."

"Yeah. She's exhausted, Dom, and I think she's getting sick too."

"Like I said, poor kid. It's gotta be tough being her right now. Trying to find a way to stop us getting sicker, clinging to the hope that her husband might still be alive and feeling a bit uncertain about the future," Santini speculated, pausing to regard his young friend with knowing eyes. "Especially as she still cares for you …."

"I care for her too, Dom, but realistically …. I can't see it going anywhere," Hawke sighed softly.

"Not right away, maybe …."

"Dom …."

"Ok kid, it's your life …." Santini sighed in resignation knowing that he was fighting a loosing battle on that score.

He could not help feeling a little disappointed in his young friend.

As a child of the Sixties, the young man had enjoyed all kinds of popular music, broadening his horizons beyond the classical stuff he learned scratching and scraping and twanging the hell out of that old cello, but unlike many of his age, the young Hawke had not embraced the music of The Beatles, and whilst he had not always liked some of the things those crazy English boys did and said, Santini had had to agree with Lennon and McCartney, when they had written, All You Need Is Love.

It was true, ultimately, love really was all anyone needed, but, Santini also knew that it was a lesson that he himself had taken a long time to learn and accept, so why should he expect his hard headed young friend to be any easier to convince?

Hawke had strong feelings about his personal life, and involving innocents in the cloak and dagger lifestyle that he led when he wasn't flying stunts in Hollywood, or shutting himself away in magnificent isolation up there at the cabin on Eagle Lake, and the only way he could even begin to reconcile himself with involving his old friend Dominic in his shenanigans for the government, was that he had needed someone to sit in the rear seat and operate the weapons and other essential systems aboard Airwolf, and that he really needed someone in his camp that he could trust to cover his back, unquestioningly.

All that said, Hawke had still only just accepted it, because Dominic Santini had made the decision to get involved for himself.

"She's been gone for a while. Better go and see if I can round her up," Hawke rose slowly and stiffly from his seat and took Santini's empty breakfast bowl and coffee cup from his old friend. "Good to see you looking a little better," he smiled lovingly down at Santini now.

"Wish I could say the same about you, kid."

"I'm ok. I've got to be. We're not out of the woods yet. Now, you rest up, Dom, because I'm going to need your help with getting this idea of Leigh's to fly …."

Both men grinned at the unintended pun then Hawke reached out to slip the oxygen mask back up over Santini's nose and mouth, but again the older man stilled him with a raised hand and eyed him speculatively.

"Tell me you're not gonna fly today, String …."

"I'm not going to fly today, Dom …." Hawke assured. "I told you, I know how dumb and insane it would be …. But I also told you I would revise my decision if Leigh gave me another option. Now rest …."

Hawke gently placed the oxygen mask back over Santini's face now, much to the older man's obvious disgust then after laying a gentle, reassuring hand against the older man's shoulder; he walked slowly across the room to deposit the empty cups and dishes on the tray.

As he did so, behind his back, Hawke was immediately aware of the soft swishing and sucking sound of the fire doors on the other side of the room opening and closing, and felt a pang of relief that he wasn't going to have to expend energy he could ill afford in trekking around the station in search of Leigh Roland after all, when he knew that it would take every ounce of strength he had to gather together the things that they needed to start working on her solution to their communications problems, from the telecommunications room, the out buildings and the labs.

With a smile of relief tugging at his lips, Stringfellow Hawke looked up and turned around to find Leigh Roland coming to a halt just inside the fire doors.

"Welcome back. We were just about to send out a search party. Your coffee's getting cold …."

Hawke's gruff voice trailed away and the smile froze on his lips, as he suddenly became aware of the very odd look on Leigh's face as she came to a sharp, abrupt halt, and he could not help wondering if she had tripped, or stumbled, or if she was about to faint again, as he took in her amber eyes wide with panic, her face colorless, body trembling from something other than cold, her breath coming in short, staccato gasps and a look of cold, stark terror marring her lovely elfin features.

In the same instant, Hawke became aware that they were no longer alone, as several men clad in white Arctic camouflage gear rushed through the fire door close behind Leigh Roland and immediately took up covering positions around Roland, himself and Dominic Santini.

There were at least a dozen of them and they were all armed with what Hawke instantly recognized as Russian AK-74 Kalashnikov rifles, raised to their shoulders in readiness to fire.

What the hell ….

Russians?

Here?

Where the hell did they come from!

Just when you thought things couldn't get any worse ….

Oh brother ….