REUNION is an original story, inspired by the U.S. T.V. series AIRWOLF.
Copyright refers to the author of this original material, and is not meant to supersede any copyrights held by Donald P Bellisario or any other persons or corporations holding rights to the television series AIRWOLF and its characters.
Chapter Ten
Wednesday morning.
"Oh my …." Sister Eve and Mackenzie Jarvis regarded Father Patrick Callaghan with less than sympathetic eyes as the elderly cleric walked a little unsteadily into the Sister Superior's office and sank down in the tan wingback leather chair with a sigh.
He wore a woebegone expression and was holding his head very gingerly, Mackenzie Jarvis noticed, and she knew that he must be feeing pretty wretched right about now.
"I hope you didn't drink and drive …." She chuckled, knowing the answer already, glad that he had decided to remain in the village over night and had not tried to find his way back here in the dark, sober or not.
"Making fun of other people's misfortune is not one of your most endearing traits, my child …." The elderly priest spoke through clenched teeth and fixed very bleary and very red rimmed eyes on the doctor, and again she had to struggle not to laugh out loud. "And frankly doctor, it's beneath you."
"I'm sorry, Father."
"So how is the old reprobate?" Sister Eve asked now, rising from her desk to reach out and pour the priest a cup of coffee from the pot she had made only a few minutes before, when the sharp eyed Sister Clementine had hurried in to tell them that she had spotted Father Paddy, looking a little the worse for wear, sat astride his favourite mule, Marigold, weaving haphazardly as they made slow, plodding progress back toward the Mission.
Despite his renewed confidence in his driving skills, Mackenzie Jarvis had been relieved to discover that he had elected to take Marigold instead of the flatbed truck, and that had also been her first indication that Father Paddy had known exactly what he was heading into and what would be expected of him.
"Feeling no pain this morning, I suspect," Father Paddy winced, as though the sound of his own voice was much too loud for him to cope with, and pain shot through his head, exploding from behind his eyeballs.
"Unlike you …." Sister Eve smiled indulgently at him as she handed him his coffee.
"Drink up, Father, and I'll find you some Aspirin in a minute …." Mackenzie Jarvis shared an amused look with Sister Eve and Father Paddy glowered at the pair of them, obviously put out that they were enjoying his discomfort so much.
"No pain, no gain, Father …." Mackenzie grinned.
"Well come on then, I know you're dying to ask …." Father Paddy invited, taking a sip of the hot coffee, gulping it down because burning his mouth was the least of his worries.
"Was Joami able to help us?"
"After several bottles of that poison he has the gall to call 'mother's milk' he would have told me where he hides his crown jewels …." Father Paddy confided with a ghost of a smile, then subsiding back into the chair and resting his head back against the ancient, dry and cracked leather, closed his eyes.
"Holy Mother, that stuff should come with a health warning …. "
"I hope you didn't have 'several bottles …." Mackenzie Jarvis was slightly alarmed at the prospect. "I don't want to have to pump your stomach, Father …." And now she was only half joking.
"Perish the thought, child," he emitted a miserable groan. "No, I had one glass, and sipped it for most of the night, after all I've seen what the stuff can do. Joami has some tolerance for it after all these years, but I get tipsy opening the communal wine ..."
"So, Father?"
"Oh yes, child, yes, patience, please …."
Father Paddy gave another little groan of misery then forced his eyes open so that he could reach out to take another sip of coffee, moving very gingerly, as though he feared his head might just roll of his shoulders.
"It's a virtue that you need to put a little work into, my dear …."
Father Paddy set down his cup and leaned his head back against the weathered old leather armchair and let out a deep sigh, raising his fingers to rub gently at his temples and fought not to give into a long, loud yawn.
"I thought I was going to be there for days before that stuff loosened the old devil's tongue …."
"So? Does Joami know where Robert Nimbani is?"
"Of course he does, child, but I'm not sure if the knowing will do your Mr Hawke any good …."
Thursday morning.
"Voila …." Mackenzie Jarvis removed the small plate from the top of the bowl she had set before Stringfellow Hawke with a flourish. "Sister Eve tells me that you are a vegetarian …." She eyed her patient with more than a hint of amusement as he glowered at the lump of oatmeal sitting in the middle of the dish before him.
"I can assure you that no animals were harmed in the making of this repast," she chuckled as the expression on his face told her clearly that he was less than impressed with the offering.
"Beggars can't be choosers around here, Mr Hawke, you get the same fare we all do …." She told him haughtily. "I know it's not very appetising for your first real meal, but it will fill a hole, and if you're a good boy and eat it all down, you will soon get strong again …."
He was looking much better today, she noted, brighter too, well rested, his eyes much more alert and alive, his colour much improved and all his vital signs were well within normal ranges now.
Thanks no doubt to the sedative that she had given to him, which had ensured that he got eight hours of undisturbed sleep, and, she knew that he had dozed on and off throughout the remainder of the day, because he had been napping when she had looked in on him once or twice, and, according to his notes, he had finally succumbed to a natural slumber around midnight.
All in all he was doing well.
He was lucky to be blessed with such an iron constitution.
And he was obviously feeling better too, grouching at the staff about being confined to bed and not being able to look in on Dominic Santini, who had spent the best part of five minutes grumbling to her about exactly the same thing only fifteen minutes before.
It was always a good sign, Mackenzie found herself thinking, when they wanted to get up and at 'em.
"Well?" he asked her now, nudging the congealed glob of oatmeal with his spoon and wrinkling his nose in disgust.
"Yes, thank you. Sweet of you to ask," she grinned back at him most becomingly and he rolled his eyes heavenward in exasperation.
He was still peeved that she had used her knock out drops to keep him doped for almost a whole day, and now he couldn't wait to hear what Father Paddy had discovered on his trip to the village.
"Cute, Mack …. Real cute, I think we're going to have to work on our communication a little …." He grumbled, laying down his spoon, his appetite suddenly deserting him. "Did Father Paddy learn anything helpful?"
"You mean aside from the fact that he can't hold his booze?"
"What?"
"It's a long story …." She grinned. "The long and short of which, is, yes, and no …."
"For crying out, Mack …."
"Hey, don't shoot the messenger. The truth of it is, yes, Father Paddy found out that Robert Nimbani is alive and that he was last seen about three weeks ago, in Tutuoami's village …."
"Tutuoami?"
"Joami's youngest brother," she explained patiently, noting the disappointment in his lovely blue eyes and knowing that it wasn't exactly what he had wanted to hear. "He's the chief of another branch of the tribe …."
"Three weeks?"
Just about the time Archangel had come to him with this cockamamie plan ….
Hawke thought sourly.
So their Intel had been out of date, or just plain hogwash from the very start ….
"Yes. I'm sorry. He's most likely moved on by now, String. He could have gone to ground just about anywhere …."
"Damn …."
Hawke let out a ragged sigh and pushed the bowl of oatmeal away.
"We still have to check it out. Someone in the village might know something …. How far away is this Tutuoami's village?"
"About one hundred and fifty miles as the crow flies."
A puddle jump in Airwolf, but ….
Winged as he was, he knew that he wouldn't be taking the Lady up any time soon.
But maybe, just maybe he could persuade Mackenzie to allow Dominic to take them up ….
"Oh no, no you don't, mister …." She warned him now, clearly able to see the cogs working in his mind. "Forget it. Neither you nor Mr Santini are fit enough to fly anywhere."
"But it would only be a five minute trip in Airwolf …."
"Airwolf? Oh, you mean the behemoth?" he nodded. "I don't care if it's only thirty seconds, you are grounded, mister. Look at you for heavens sake, you hardly have the strength to lift that spoon to your lips …."
"Mack, we can't waste any more time. The sooner we get to Nimbani and try to persuade him to come back to the States with me and Dom, the sooner Kembala will be free. If we leave it much longer, no one will believe that he really is alive, they'll say it's some kind of trick …." He protested, and despite her misgivings, Mackenzie Jarvis knew that he was right.
They needed to strike while the iron was still hot, or it would all be for nothing.
"Look, if I can't do it, at least consider giving Dom the thumbs up? Please?"
"I wish I could …."
Her voice trailed away as she suddenly had the wildest thought, and it must have shown on her face, for now Hawke was staring at her, not only in irritation, but with curiosity too.
"There is one other alternative," she let out a ragged breath now, in two minds about what she was about to suggest.
"Right now I'm ready to listen to anything you might think is helpful."
"I could fly us," she whispered, wondering why she hadn't thought about it before.
They could take the Dakota, after all, it was almost time for her to make her usual three monthly trip, to check on the villagers and run a few clinics.
"What?" Hawke's eyes almost popped out of his head.
"I could fly us," she repeated a little more confidently now, capturing her bottom lip between her teeth to chew on it thoughtfully.
"I have an old Dakota I use for visiting the outlying villages and for supply runs to Nairobi …."
She explained, watching the astonishment on Hawke's face turn into real appreciation and then genuine pleasure at the thought that she shared his passion for flying.
"It's an old Douglas DC-3 Dakota …."
"You have a pilot's licence?" Hawke cut her off then threw her a look of apology for his abruptness.
"Sure."
"Since when?"
"Since I got the flying bug after working for a certain Dominic Santini .… and I learned all about the RFDS … The Royal Flying Doctors Service of Australia, and had a burning desire to become the flying nun …." She chuckled.
"What's your certification? Fixed wing and instruments?"
"Yes," she grew wary now, wondering where he was going with this, and not liking the answer she was suddenly getting back. "I have a private pilots licence …."
She could see from the expression on his face that he fully understood what that meant, that she was certified to fly practically anything that was capable of getting off the ground under its own steam, just as he was, and that he really was genuinely impressed.
"And instrument rating …."
"What about choppers?" He again cut her off.
"Sure …." She confirmed then stopped dead in her tracks, gazing back at him with a look of shock on her lovely face. "I qualified, although I don't have much actual experience …. Air time …."
"Then we can still take the puddle jumper. You in the right seat, Dom in the left, just to supervise, and me in back …." Hawke grinned, hardly able to believe that he was actually lying here contemplating allowing someone else to pilot Airwolf, aside from himself and Dominic Santini. "We'll be there and back in no time …."
"No …. I couldn't …." She protested, her stomach doing a flip-flop against her spine at the very thought of taking the controls of that magnificent machine.
"Yes you can. You'll be fine," Hawke assured, hoping that he was right, but knowing that they really didn't have any other choice.
They needed answers, and they needed them fast.
"String, please, don't ask …."
"You'll be fine, Mack. Piece of cake. She's a real pussy cat," he smiled reassuringly at her now. "C'mon Mack, most guys wouldn't trust their girlfriends with their car keys …."
"String, I've been inside that monster, remember, I've seen …."
Yes ….
Hawke thought sourly,
He could guess what she had seen, and knew that she was smart enough to guess what all those switches and buttons were for.
"You'll only have to use the flight controls, Mack. Nothing else," He assured her. "Cyclic, stick, rudder, brake …. And all you need worry about is torque, altitude, airspeed, keeping her nose up …. And Dom and I will be with you …" He cajoled now.
Mackenzie Jarvis drew in a ragged breath, as she supposed that she should be flattered that he would trust her.
That he would place his confidence in her.
"Mack?" He appealed to her now, with all the love he felt for her blazing in his eyes and she was genuinely touched at his faith in her, the huge compliment that he was paying her ….
Thinking about the magnificent helicopter secreted in the barn, and recalling the way she had moved, her grace, elegance, power ….
And then she recalled the weapons systems, the firepower concealed within, and knew that this was indeed no ordinary helicopter, and that he would be taking a huge risk in letting her take the controls ….
Something he probably would not even contemplate if it wasn't a matter of life and death ….
"Mack?"
"Do I have a choice?"
As she gazed back at him, Hawke could see the myriad of emotions coursing through her.
Fear, insecurity, self doubt ….
Terror.
And then, at last, something else.
The one thing he had hoped to see.
Mackenzie Jarvis' expression changed, as she drew in a deep breath and drew her self up, straightening her back, throwing back her shoulders as her chin rose in defiance, and he knew that she had made her decision.
Just what this family needs ….
He found himself thinking wryly.
Someone else who can't overlook the opportunity to prove themselves and rise to a challenge.
That's my girl, Mack. I knew you wouldn't let me down ….