Epilogue
Caitlin shifted her left arm, not quite comfortable with how it sat in the hospital provided sling. Sourly she considered spending the next four weeks with this contraption and was already scheming how she could keep it dry and still get in a daily shower. Santini Air just didn't pay enough for a daily shampoo and blow dry by Rodrigo for thirty days straight. She sent a considering glance at the man leaning against the jeep parked at an angle to Airwolf and bit her lip, considering whether Archangel might pick up the tab. Lord knew, Michael Coldsmith Briggs had the money, both in his personal bank accounts and in his division's budget; if only she could work up the nerve to ask him.
"The photo is approximately three months old," Briggs was saying. He squinted into the sun and held a hand up to shield his good eye from the glare. "So, no, it's not breaking news but it's pretty damn current intelligence."
Hawke didn't seem convinced and from the way he shifted from one foot to the next, Caitlin knew he was just haring to get into Airwolf and go find his brother, and would have already done so if he had any idea of where to look. A poppy field just wasn't specific enough, even for a man as desperate as Hawke.
"Don't you cut me out of this, Michael," Hawke said in a low, graveled tone. "I'm not going to sit or play fetch for the Firm like a trained dog while you circle three ways from Sunday around the people in that photo."
Caitlin shot a glance over her right shoulder but from the twisted expression on Dominic's face, he had no idea of what Hawke was getting at either. Archangel, though; that was a different story. He just shifted position and shrugged.
"I'm not going to blow a major intelligence op because your nose is out of joint," he said. "I told you I'll find that field and I will."
"When?"
Briggs rubbed at his right eyebrow, his expression thoughtful and considering in a way that Caitlin would have thought would have reassured Hawke, if he'd been anyone but Hawke. In the late afternoon sunlight, Archangel looked even more battered than he had inside the hospital ward and she wondered how long it had been since he'd slept. Dominic and Hawke had been splitting shifts, standing guard inside of Airwolf versus grabbing some shuteye on the base. They'd even showered, though both could use a clean set of clothes. Half a day's flying in flight suits with several days wear was not going to be enjoyable, even with the filters in Airwolf's re-circulation system
"I can't commit to a day or a date," Briggs finally answered. "I know who took the pictures, but I need to get to that person without drawing attention." He squinted again. "Give me at least a week."
Hawke grumbled something under his breath, scowled and then finally met Briggs' raised eyebrow with a nod. "When are you stateside?"
"The doctors would like to keep Marella under observation another day or so." Briggs sighed, sounding tired. "Sometime late Tuesday probably, worst case Wednesday. And not that you care, but I may need to rebuild our infrastructure in Thailand and possibly that whole station. It could take longer than a week."
That didn't go over well with Hawke.
"Not much redundancy in your network."
Briggs just ignored Hawke's sniping and watched him until Hawke looked away.
"You should probably get Airwolf out of here before someone asks why I haven't had the MPs take you into custody and recover the helicopter."
"Some people actually know how to say thank you," Dominic snapped.
"You could always blame the concussion," Hawke suggested.
Caitlin couldn't read Hawke's eyes, hidden behind a pair of dark aviator sunglasses, but his lip quirked, just a bit, just enough.
Briggs raised a brow. "I don't have a concussion."
"I can fix that for you," Dominic offered genially, with an outsized smile.
"You'll have to get in line, Dominic. I'm fairly certain that the majority of the Committee is ahead of you." Briggs smiled and rubbed at his brow again, enough for Caitlin to wonder if he was nursing an actual headache. "Caitlin, I realize that you'll be unable to fly for some time. If you're thinking of taking some vacation, perhaps visiting your family in Texas, I would be happy to cover the airfare. First class, round trip." He smiled directly at her and under the heat of that smile, she got a glimpse into the reason all those women seemed so happy to work for the man. "Consider it an expression of gratitude."
She pinked, embarrassed and pleased both at once. She was about as homesick for Texas and family as she'd ever been and the thought of some of her mother's pampering sounded almost too good to resist, except for the fact that it would come with a lot of uncomfortable questions about exactly how she'd broken her arm and pointed comments about her safety in California, her chosen line of work and her lack of husband and kids. And then her Daddy would chime in, opening the door for comments from her sister and her brothers. Hmm, she had always wanted to visit New Orleans…
"That offer good for places other than Texas?"
Briggs blinked once but then smiled again. "Of course. Within reason."
"Wait just a second!" Dominic, predictably, was outraged. "Just 'cause she can't fly doesn't mean she doesn't have a job."
Caitlin shot Dominic a look with glaring eyes that she hoped he interpreted as 'don't blow this for me, buster' and he settled down, still sputtering a bit.
Briggs pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "Work out the details amongst yourselves, obviously. When you've decided, get in contact with Vanessa at my office to make the arrangements."
"You got first class tickets for us, too?"
"Nothing that could beat the ride you already have." He tilted his head at Airwolf, holding back a smile that kept threatening to break. "Besides, if everything goes the way we hope, you'll be planning a very different trip in the near future, won't you?"
Briggs held Hawke's gaze for a long moment until Hawke nodded, looking relieved, reassured and anxious all at once.
"Yeah."
And Caitlin wasn't sure whether the fear she heard in that single word was fear of being disappointed yet again or of actually succeeding.
finis
