Airwolf and all associated characters (except mine) are owned by Belisarius Productions, NBC Universal Television, Atlantis Communications. All persons described herein are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is coincidental. Copyright infringement is not intended.
Chapter 5: Dovetails
18 May 2013
The imposing stone structure of Dr. Stefan Vogel's home was nestled in a forested area just outside a relatively new neighbourhood on the western edge of Dresden. Their taxi was met by an immaculately dressed guide who greeted them in accented but otherwise flawless English. "Welcome to Alpensegler," he said, smiling broadly. "This was originally the site of one of the many castles that once decorated the landscape of the ancient Duchy of Saxony. Using the measurements that several teams of archeologists made, this was built to match known contemporary structures as closely as possible. The former name of this place has sadly been lost to history, but it was given its current name in honour of Herr Vogel's favourite pastime."
"He enjoys birding, then?" Dina asked. She'd translated the name as 'alpine swift' which was a small bird known to breed in southern Europe. A quick look upwards enabled her to glimpse the sleek black and grey helicopter that was perched on one of the towers, and it took her breath away. Replica though this was, photographs of the original didn't do it justice.
"Indeed so," said the guide. "Even though his business keeps him occupied, he still makes trips to sanctuaries across the region and elsewhere to photograph the bird life. As you know, these tours of his collection are offered only on a very limited basis. Herr Vogel is a private man despite being well known for his contributions to the pharmaceutical industry here."
The variety and scale of the photography was astounding. It was clear that Dr. Vogel had spared no expense to reach some of the remote locations in order to capture images of the avian life. Each framed photograph had a small plaque next to it that identified the bird pictured, as well as where and when it was taken. The subjects spanned all the continents, from Africa to South America.
"This is no mere hobby," Dina commented appreciatively at one point. "This is a commitment."
"An admirable trait for anyone, yes?" the guide said. "Herr Vogel is known to seek perfection in both his work and his life. This way, please." He indicated that they should turn left at an intersection in the hallway. "In the next section there is a gallery dedicated to his work in general."
They were partway down the corridor when Dina noticed that Tina was no longer with them. Scowling, she touched Michael's sleeve to get his attention and made a few surreptitious hand signals. He responded with a sharp look and a hand signal of his own that she recognized as a clear order to retrieve their colleague at once.
"Excuse me," she said to the guide, "my daughter seems to have lagged behind. She tends to get mesmerized by work like this, and probably didn't notice us move on. I'll go and find her, if I may?"
"Very well, but be quick, please," the guide responded. "We shall wait."
She backtracked to the intersection and cast a glance down the hall that the guide had avoided. It was unsurprising to see Tina slowly making her way toward a suspicious-looking doorway. The meticulous detail in the colour and structure made it appear like all the rest at a casual glance, but Dina could tell even from her vantage point that it was made from metal and not wood. As tempted as she was to find out what this door led to, orders were orders. She snapped her fingers, the slight sound echoing in the hall.
Tina whirled, her eyes wide in alarm. Dina waved furiously and beckoned to her with an unmistakable command: come now. But the girl pointed toward the metal door, signaling that she wanted to get a closer look. Seeing no alternative, Dina strode toward the wayward agent just as the door in question began to open. "Young lady," she said in a quiet voice that nevertheless showed her annoyance, "our guide gave us strict instructions to stay with him. If you're looking for a washroom, you should've said something instead of wandering off. Come on, we'll ask when we catch up."
"Dieser Bereich ist nicht anbegrenzt. This area is off-limits," said a harsh voice. "What are you doing here?"
Dina turned to see two men wearing dark clothing and white lab coats that didn't quite hide the SIG pistols at their belts. "Please excuse us," she said meekly. "We're on the tour, and my daughter was looking for the ladies' room. Sorry for disturbing you." Then she took a hold of Tina's arm and unceremoniously hauled her back to where Michael and the tour guide were waiting. "Here we are, sorry for the delay. She said she needs the ladies' room."
The guide smiled and said, "Of course. There is one in the next gallery. Please follow me." But there was a look in his eyes that put Dina on edge. She flicked another hand signal to Michael, who instantly stiffened and began to observe their surroundings more closely.
The four of them walked into a large room filled with yet more photographs and exhibits, only this one was also occupied by five men in similar dark clothing to the ones that Dina had seen before. Her insides froze for a moment. Either the guide had somehow summoned them, or the suspect passage had been monitored by a camera that she hadn't noticed. There were two-to-one odds here, plus the newcomers were armed. Resisting would be foolhardy.
Tina burst out, "Wait, what? What's going on?" as she looked around frantically.
"Is this part of the tour?" Michael asked.
"No," the guide said, his voice no longer friendly. "You had specific instructions not to deviate from the route. I'm afraid we must ask you to come with us; you will be escorted out."
Dina exchanged a look with Michael; both of them knew that this number of men wouldn't be required for a simple escort to the exit. Whatever lay down that passage was important enough to justify an armed security detail, and its discovery was met with harsh consequences. Tina's transgression had cost them dearly.
They were led to another room nearby, one much more spartan than the ones they'd already seen. Here they were each frisked, and when their personal items were removed and put on a table, they were held firmly on each side by a guard. After a few minutes, a slender middle-aged woman with sharp features entered the room. "Welcome, Archangel," she said in a Russian-accented voice. "You've been expected."
Michael tried to yank himself away from the two men holding him, but their grip on him was too strong. "You," he said in a growl, abandoning all pretense. "Olga. You were the one who dosed me with that brainwashing serum. On Krüger's orders."
The woman gave a thin smile. "I see that your memory has not dulled, despite the passage of so much time. If it makes any difference to you, at that time I very much disliked having to do so. But later, after learning that your friend Hawke had laid waste to many of my cherished colleagues with his helicopter, I changed." She began to pace the floor in front of him and frowned. "Imagine how frustrated I was when I heard of his untimely death, because I had wanted to kill him myself. Alas, it was not to be. So, I waited, and prepared for a chance to strike back at the other person responsible."
"Frau Vogel–" Nadine began formally.
"Ms. Fokichna, if you please," the woman snapped. "I used his name only for convenience. I needed his money and expertise for my plans. He might believe that he has found solutions to human infirmity, but the research was mine."
"Which you allowed him to take credit for," Michael noted.
Ms. Fokichna smirked. "Despite all protestations to the contrary, it is still very much a man's world. He received the glory that he sought, and I was able to continue my own efforts in the background. It suited me."
"Why hold us, then?" Christina asked in a panic. "We're no threat to you."
The older woman faced her with an almost kind look. "Ah, my innocent child, how mistaken you are. Do you even know who Archangel is, how many plans he has foiled, how many people he has killed? Your words have shown that you follow him not from loyalty, but opportunity. But you," she turned to Nadine, "I see that knowledge, that loyalty, in your eyes. That makes you the most dangerous one here. Therefore, you must understand that to ensure an adversary's compliance, they must have incentive."
At that moment, the door to the room opened again and in walked Dr. Stefan Vogel himself. "Olga my dear, how kind of you to entertain our guests until I could arrive." His amiable demeanour vanished as he glared at Michael. "Mr. Archangel, how nice to see you."
"Forgive me if I can't return the compliment, Herr Vogel," Michael responded. "This kind of reception was unnecessary."
"It would have been unnecessary had your associate not chosen to be where she was not welcome," Vogel said coldly. "I know why you are here, but I had hoped that we might've been able to come to, shall we say, a gentleman's agreement for something that would benefit all concerned."
Nadine asked reasonably, "Why would we agree to do anything for you?"
Ms. Fokichna stepped forward again; she was holding a tray on which were two syringes that contained a pearl-coloured liquid. "Because there will be incentive." She turned her head to look at one of the guards at the door and beckoned to him curtly. The man came forward and picked up one syringe, and she took the other. At her nod, the men who were holding all three prisoners tightened their grip.
Vogel came further into the room and said, "Three people, two doses. But the one who is the pilot must stay clear-headed for this mission. Which one of you has the ability to fly a helicopter?"
Christina blurted, "What helicopter? The only one here is that showpiece on your roof."
"Young lady, that is indeed a showpiece, but it is also what you came here for, is it not?" Vogel asked.
"It was verified to be a non-flying replica," Nadine protested faintly as her two companions stared wide-eyed at their captors. Had they heard right?
"Correct," said Vogel. "It does not fly. Not without its designated pilot. I've hired the best technicians to attempt to access its programming or otherwise enable its systems, with no result. That led me to the conclusion that only a very few people have the ability to activate it, and that very likely includes you, Mr. Archangel."
"I highly doubt that," Michael said. "I was an engineer, not a pilot."
Nadine was having trouble processing this. The machine that graced the roof of this castle was in fact the real Airwolf? They'd come into this situation based on a thin lead and some guesswork, knowing that it was a trap of some kind, but she'd never expected that this would be the result. "If it doesn't fly, how could I have heard it a few days ago?" she wondered out loud. "Unless I imagined it."
Ms. Fokichna said, "Your ears did not deceive you. What you heard was a recording." Her husband glanced at her with a scowl.
It struck Nadine that both husband and wife had their own plans, and they hadn't been honest with each other about the details. That explained Vogel's reaction to Ms. Fokichna's revelation. One thing was for certain, though: Michael's presence here had been planned for from the beginning. They'd been effectively captive since the moment they'd walked into the castle.
Ms. Fokichna stepped in front of her. "Your eyes are telling again. You make a poor operative, but I would guess that you are a competent pilot, else you would not be here." She then turned and yanked Christina's sleeve up, tearing it in the process, to uncover her upper arm. Then she injected the young agent. On Nadine's other side, the guard did the same to Michael.
"What did you give them?!" she demanded.
"Almost every drug in existence began as an altruistic endeavour, only to be used by the military in war or by corporations for profit," Vogel said matter-of-factly. "This will be no different. I have discovered the ultimate solution for the human condition. What is coursing through their bodies right now is something akin to what mythology refers to as the Fountain of Youth. Within moments, they will be transformed into younger versions of themselves." He gestured to the guards and they let Michael and Christina go. Both immediately fell to all fours with pained grunts. Then Vogel continued, "Unfortunately, after a few hours at most, they will experience a fatal hormonal overload unless given a counter-agent."
"Like Pierre Gerard on the train," Nadine realized. "But he took too long to get it."
"Precisely," Ms. Fokichna said with a smirk. "I do feel sorry for his poor granddaughter, but it was entirely his mistake."
In a fury, Nadine lunged toward the woman, but was held back by the two guards. "What gives you the right to play with people's lives?"
"The same right that your Firm has," Vogel insisted. "It plays political games with people and governments, and eliminates those who no longer serve its purpose." He bent toward her with a smile and said in a gentler tone, "Have you ever had to kill someone?"
Swallowing hard, she admitted in a whisper, "Yes, to save someone's life."
He nodded. "Then you understand that anything worthwhile always comes with a cost. Now, you will need to pilot that helicopter to save both your friends, and perhaps others."
"Why that particular one?" she couldn't help asking. Out of the corners of her eyes she could see both Michael and Christina writhing on the floor in pain, and her heart ached that she couldn't do anything for them right now. "What's wrong with any other plane?"
Straightening up, Vogel explained, "Because I need something to be done quickly and quietly, which that helicopter is eminently capable of. Your instructions are as follows: transport a case of my serum to the coordinates that I will provide. There, you will be given payment, after which you will return immediately. If you do this, you will receive the counter-agent. Have we an agreement?"
She took a quick glance at her companions again; both were now lying still but they were breathing. "I suppose I have little choice. But flying it alone isn't efficient; that helicopter operates best with two crew." If she could get at least one of them away, they might be able to figure out what all this was really about and come up with a plan to stop it.
"Choose your co-pilot wisely, then," Ms. Fokichna said. "You will prepare for departure as soon as your friends recover."
Her mind worked furiously. Christina was young and healthy, and probably would be able to recover from the effects of the injection more quickly than Michael. But she was also inexperienced and there was no time to familiarize her with the helicopter's systems. Michael on the other hand was a seasoned operative, an aeronautical engineer, and had sat at Airwolf's ops console at least twice. He'd be the more logical choice. "Archangel will assist me," she murmured.
"Very well," Ms. Fokichna said and nodded toward the guards who were still flanking the prone Christina. One of them picked the girl up, and the pair left the room. "She will be cared for. When you return from a successful mission, the antidote will be made available."
Nadine tried to pull herself free from the guards holding her, and this time they let her go. She dropped to her knees beside Michael to check him over, and received the surprise of her life. He was no longer the grandfatherly figure that he had been. His hair was a dark blond, his face youthful; he looked no older than thirty-five. The scleral prosthesis had become dislodged, so she gently removed it and palmed it under the cover of adjusting his glasses. Two healthy sea-blue eyes gazed at her.
She gasped in spite of herself. He was drop-dead gorgeous.
Then she cleared her throat and banished such unseemly thoughts from her mind. "Michael?"
"Yes," he said breathlessly. "I feel like I've been hit by a truck." He reached toward her and clasped her hand, and she helped him up. "I take it that we need to do something," he said, before stopping in his tracks. His jaw dropped and he slowly looked down at his hands as he realized that he was seeing with two eyes instead of one. "My God…"
Vogel cut in, "I assure you, Mr. Archangel, that a deity has nothing to do with this. You and your other friend have perhaps three hours at most before you begin to suffer the serum's final effects. I suggest that you perform your mission quickly. The guards will escort you to rooms to prepare." He beckoned and two pairs of men moved forward.
Having little choice at the moment, both operatives complied.
It took only a few minutes for Nadine to freshen up and put on the grey G-suit that was provided. When she exited the room, both she and Michael were brought to the roof of the tower where the helicopter rested. The guards, as always, said nothing, other than one of them handing over a slip of paper that had a set of coordinates written on it.
Nadine walked around the helicopter to ensure that there were no obstructions. Then she and Michael clambered inside. She took the pilot's seat on the right-hand side, connected the G-suit to the on-board environmental systems, and put on the heavy black flight helmet. The inner lining rippled for a moment as it adjusted itself to her head. "So far, so good," she commented. "Are the comms working?"
"A little scratchy, but I can hear you," responded Michael from behind her as he settled himself at the ops console. "Feels like it was yesterday." Then he sighed deeply and murmured, "Hello, Lady. It seems that she recognizes me after all."
"What are you talking about?" she asked, confused.
"Start your pre-flight," he advised. "Do any of the controls work for you?"
As she had done in the simulations, she pressed the appropriate buttons and took hold of the collective arm on her left, but the controls on it didn't light up as they should have. "No."
Michael pressed a button and screens on both the pilot's console and his activated. He typed a command on his keyboard and text appeared on both screens:
Pilot Moffett, Charles Henry, Dr. - Status: Deceased
Pilot Hawke, Stringfellow, Capt. - Status: Unknown
Pilot Santini, Dominic - Status: Deceased
Pilot O'Shannessy-Hawke, Caitlin - Status: Unknown
Pilot Hawke, Saint-John - Status: Active
Pilot Santini, Joanna - Status: Active
Operative Coldsmith-Briggs III, Michael, Archangel - Status: Unknown
Operative Hansen, Karen, Dr. - Status: Unknown
Operative Hawke, Le Van - Status: Unknown
Operative Rivers, Michael, Maj. - Status: Active
Identified: Coldsmith-Briggs III, Michael, Archangel
Unknown Pilot
Query: Update?
Nadine let out a quiet gasp. "How does it know?"
"Hawke and Santini always said that there was something about this helicopter that they couldn't explain," Michael told her as he continued to type, "like a presence that took their breath away whenever they were near her. That's why they called her the Lady. Caitlin told me that she believed the computer system had achieved a level of awareness that bordered on an artificial intelligence. Having seen for myself what this ship is capable of, I saw no reason to contradict that." He paused before saying, "Let's see if she'll accept this." He tapped a key and a new list appeared on the screens.
Pilot Moffett, Charles Henry, Dr. - Status: Deceased
Pilot Hawke, Stringfellow, Capt. - Status: Inactive
Pilot Santini, Dominic - Status: Deceased
Pilot O'Shannessy-Hawke, Caitlin - Status: Inactive
Pilot Hawke, Saint-John - Status: Inactive
Pilot Santini, Joanna - Status: Inactive
Operative Coldsmith-Briggs III, Michael, Archangel - Status: Active
Operative Hansen, Karen, Dr. - Status: Inactive
Operative Hawke, Le Van - Status: Inactive
Operative Rivers, Michael, Maj. - Status: Inactive
Identified: Redmond, Nadine
AKA Coleville, Diane; Brandon, Dina; Deseronto, Nadine
Qualifications: UCLA Dip EET, WWU BSc Elec, WWU BSc Bio/Anthro, SU BSc Forensics, FAA certified PPL/PHL, OC Dip Criminal/Social Justice
Query: Recognize as Pilot?
"Confirm," Michael said as he typed the order. "Recognize Nadine Redmond as Pilot; authorization: Angel One." The screen blanked. After another pause, he instructed, "Try her now."
Nadine wanted to ask Michael how he'd known all her credentials, but decided that it wasn't important right now. This time when she took hold of the collective, the controls on it lit up. Then she felt a presence, an ethereal feeling of fierce protectiveness, and she couldn't help sighing in awe.
"She got you too, huh?" Michael said from behind her. "I'm actually surprised that she was so quick about accepting you, but that's probably because I'm here." He cleared his throat and became businesslike. "Let's get to work. The faster we get this done, the faster we'll get that antidote." He pressed a few buttons on his console and the aircraft's engines started up. "Let's hope that Vogel's people were able to keep the systems functional even though they couldn't fly her."
A flurry of beeps sounded as the various consoles and readouts flickered to life. "Fuel. Oil. Hydraulics. Compass. Horizon. Radar. Proximity detection." Michael read off the indicators one by one. "All this time doesn't seem to have bothered her much. You ready?"
Nadine took a breath and relaxed as best as she could into the seat. "Let's see what she's got."