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 7: Escape
The door to Dr. Vogel's library opened and a rather agitated Hans Keller strode in. "As fine as your intentions are, Herr Vogel, I'm having my doubts as to my continued role in them." He placed a small box on the table that was between them.
"I have a continuing need of your expertise, Mr. Keller," said Vogel evenly as he acknowledged the man with a nod. "I do understand how impatient you must be to have your freedom. But as you know, our plans are on a precise time schedule." He took a sip from the glass he held. "Will you join me for lunch?" he asked as if nothing was untoward.
Keller glared at him. "You listen to me, Mein Freund," he said, sarcasm dripping from his voice, "I'm getting tired of being your errand boy. And I really don't think that your country's government will be too pleased if they find out what you're doing, if you understand my meaning."
Vogel didn't raise his voice but his annoyance was evident. "So there's no misunderstanding here, our plan doesn't need to be compromised with such talk. I assure you that I'm well aware of your needs, and you are being paid exceptionally well for the risks you are taking."
"You're fortunate that you can afford to pay me what I'm worth," Keller shot back. "And when we're done with this, the EU had better know that the man who helped 'equalize' their drug distribution thirty years ago is back in business."
"Your vengeance is foolishly directed," Vogel commented.
The formerly older man shrugged. "Perhaps. But you'd better find a way to make your magic serum permanent, or else my 'vengeance' as you call it, might just end up including you."
Vogel's eyes became icy cold. "Threaten me at your own risk, Mr. Keller. After all, I still hold the key to your success."
"Not for much longer, I should hope, sir," Keller said.
As Michael had observed earlier, the guards were amateurs. Some twenty minutes after the two captives were left alone, the door to the room opened and two men casually stepped in. Perhaps they expected to see a dead man and a grieving woman who was no threat. They were mistaken. A quick ambush rendered them both unconscious. Michael and Nadine relieved them of their weapons and secured them using the straps from the two gurneys. Then the agents grabbed their essential items – Nadine didn't waste time asking why Michael took his cane – and slipped cautiously into the hallway. All seemed quiet.
Michael kept watchful eyes on the hall as Nadine picked the lock to the room next door to theirs. This was the most likely place where Christina might be. In no time at all, the door was open. "Tina, it's us," Nadine whispered urgently.
The young agent appeared from behind the door, and gasped when she saw that Archangel clearly was alive. "What–?"
Nadine motioned for silence and beckoned for her to follow.
It was a given where their next destination would be: the room behind the mysterious door that had stymied them the first time. They crept unopposed to the suspect corridor. Michael raised his cane and used the handle to break the small camera that was in an almost invisible nook at the junction of the wall and ceiling. "They'll know that something's wrong," he said in a low voice, "but at least they won't see us. We don't have long before more guards come."
They raced down the corridor to the metal door, and Nadine examined the lock. "It's electronic. There's no getting in without a code."
"Then we'll have to see if someone will open it for us," Michael said grimly, and indicated that they should hide in a room across the hall. The door was left open, to entice any guards into range so they could be dealt with. Within two minutes they heard several people striding closer; Nadine made out at least four sets of footsteps.
"What is this?" asked a strident female voice: Ms. Fokichna. "That should not be open."
The first man to lean into the room and reach for the doorknob received an immediate strike to the throat by the handle of Michael's cane. He crumpled to the floor, struggling to breathe. A second man foolishly stepped over the first's body. He was treated to a violent kick in the groin from Nadine that knocked him flat as well.
The three of them were warned by Ms. Fokichna's indignant shout of "Idiots!" They threw themselves aside as bullets began to fly through the open doorway. The barrage then stopped long enough for the two prone men to be pulled back out of the way by unseen hands.
"You are good, pilot, to be able to get this far," Ms. Fokichna called. "I will respect you for that much. But there is no escape."
Having lost the element of surprise, Nadine switched tactics. "I will be the judge of that," she called out. "If all parties would put down their guns, perhaps we could discuss terms." Michael shot her a questioning look, but at her nod, his shoulders relaxed and he put his gun on the floor.
A few seconds passed, and then Ms. Fokichna eased into the doorway. Her hands were raised, but she had a look of supreme confidence on her face. In a show of good faith, Nadine clicked the safety on the pistol she held and put it on the floor before standing to face the older woman. Before she could speak again, however, Ms. Fokichna noticed Michael standing to one side, very much alive. Her expression changed into one of absolute amazement.
Without a word, Ms. Fokichna whipped her right arm downward. A pocket pistol dropped into her hand from out of her sleeve. She aimed it at Michael and fired. In the same instant, Nadine yanked a springer knife from her belt, and flung it at the woman. The blade embedded itself in her stomach.
Three bodies hit the floor.
Nadine scooped up her gun. The man who attempted to enter the room in response to the noise was shot for his trouble. Footsteps retreated down the hallway. The remaining guard had apparently run off to get backup. Keeping one eye on the door, Nadine hurried forward to kick the pocket pistol out of Ms. Fokichna's reach. Then she moved sideways across the room to where Michael had been standing. She dropped to a crouch and murmured urgently, "Talk to me, please."
Michael sat up, looking slightly dazed but otherwise uninjured. Christina, however, was lying flat on her stomach, with blood pouring from a wound in the middle of her back. She had pushed Michael down and taken the bullet for him. Judging by the rate she was bleeding, something vital had been nicked. Despite knowing that it was futile, Nadine dropped the gun and pressed her hands on the wound as hard as she could, tears forming in her eyes.
Christina coughed and whispered, "She was wrong. I am loyal to you..." Then she went limp.
Nadine squeezed her eyes shut and clenched her bloodied hands into fists. "She was too young to deserve this."
"None of my agents ever deserved this," said Michael softly. "It was what they chose. Come on." He retrieved his gun and stood. "We still have a job to do."
Stubbornly she turned Christina's body over, closed the eyelids, and folded the arms across the chest before wiping the remaining blood off her hands and picking up her gun. "Let's get to it." As they passed Ms. Fokichna's body, Nadine viciously yanked the knife free and cleaned it on the woman's shirt. In disgust she folded the knife and tucked it into a pocket.
The hallway was empty except for the body of the guard whom Michael had hit in the throat. Inexplicably, the metal door across the hall was ajar; either there were more guards inside or someone else had taken advantage of the chaos to slip in unnoticed. Michael flicked a hand signal at Nadine to indicate that he would watch the hall while she checked the room.
Her first careful glance into the room revealed that it was an advanced medical lab. Tables bearing various types of apparatus took up almost all the available space. On the other side of the lab, directly across from the door, was a large cabinet mounted on the wall. It was open and Nadine noticed that most of its shelves were occupied by a goodly number of vials containing the pearl-coloured serum. A few smaller ones had contents that were colourless: the antidote. She could see even from her vantage point that a lot of the vials were missing – whoever had been in here could've taken them and either left in a hurry or was hiding in the room somewhere.
She slipped inside and swept the place quickly, but it appeared that she was the only person in the lab. Taking advantage of the situation, she sneaked across and plucked three vials out of the cabinet with her free hand, securing them in the cargo pockets of her pants.
A strong arm wrapped around her neck from behind. "Drop your weapon, if you would," said the gruff voice of Stefan Vogel. After she clicked on the safety and let the gun drop, he continued. "Did you truly think you could outwit me in my own home, young lady? I had this place constructed in detail, including secret passages." Then he called, "Whoever is out there, do come in where I can see you."
Michael entered the room hesitantly, to see Vogel himself holding Nadine in a solid grip, and aiming a P8 pistol at her.
"Welcome, Mr. Archangel," Vogel said in an even tone, although his face registered surprise. "I would ask how you are still alive, but I've no time now for pleasantries. If you value your companion's life, please don't force me to hurt her."
Michael said, "Hurting her won't help your cause." He rearranged his grip on his own gun. "If she dies, you die. If you know of me, then you know I mean it."
Vogel said, "I don't wish to kill her, given the asset she has proved to be, but I will do what must be done." He shifted position, removing his arm from Nadine's neck and instead gripping her arm.
"Could've fooled me," Nadine commented, and the man dug the barrel of his pistol into her side.
"We have a standoff then, don't we?" asked Michael conversationally.
"How do you propose we settle this standoff, Mr. Archangel?" Vogel asked.
A new voice called, "I have a solution," and all turned to see Hans Keller framed in the doorway, a Beretta machine pistol in one hand and an attaché case in the other. "I thought I would take my leave of you privately, Stefan, but I see you are already occupied. No matter, I have what I want." He fired at Vogel, who dropped instantly.
Both Nadine and Michael dove aside as Keller continued to fire at the cabinet, shattering all the vials that it contained, before disappearing down the corridor.
Michael leapt up and hurried over to where Nadine was lying on the floor, noting in alarm that her right leg was bleeding. "Are you okay?"
In a panic she examined her leg, and then opened the cargo pocket to carefully extract the remains of the vial that she'd shoved in there. "It must've broken when I hit the floor." Most of the contents had soaked into her pants or dripped on the floor, but there was no question that some of it had gotten into the cut. She stared at him in shock. "I've been contaminated."
"Come on," he said grimly as he helped her up. "You should have a short time before the first symptoms appear. We have to stop Keller from getting away with those vials."
A movement from the floor attracted their attention, and they saw Vogel holding out a small notebook. "It seems that Keller has, how do you say, called both our hands?" he said shakily. He glanced at his blood-covered body with a wan smile. "This is not what I had planned. Perhaps you can make better use of this now." As Nadine took the notebook, he wheezed and coughed up blood. "It's against my better instincts, but I find myself wishing you both well."
Michael nodded respectfully. "It's a matter of class."
"Well enough," Vogel whispered. His eyes closed and he lay still.
After glancing at each other, Michael and Nadine left the room.
They had expected opposition on the way out, but there was none. Most of the people in the halls were either dead or writhing in pain on the ground, apparently having been taken by surprise and shot by Keller as he fled.
It took hardly any time at all to return to where Airwolf was perched on the tower roof, and the two guards that were watching the helicopter had no chance to react as Michael and Nadine gunned them down. Then Nadine gasped as her head went light and spots danced in front of her eyes. She fell to her knees.
"Dina!" Michael exclaimed. He shoved his gun into his belt and raced to her side.
A burning sensation was spreading through her now. "Damn serum took its sweet time," she managed to joke.
He lifted her up and carried her toward Airwolf. After fumbling a bit to get the side hatch open, he lay her on the floor next to the ops console. "Breathe through it," he encouraged her as he recalled his own painful ordeal with the stuff. "It doesn't take long. Stay with me, Dina."
She grabbed for his hand. "I intend to."
What followed felt like the longest few minutes of her life. Fire roared through her veins, her stomach roiled, and her lungs felt like they were being squeezed. Most of the symptoms were not dissimilar to those of an anxiety attack, and she was quite familiar with those after what Lucas had subjected her to. So, she focused on one of the meditative techniques that she knew, breathed deeply, and let herself drift.
Just as quickly as it had started, the pain eased, leaving her clear-headed. She opened her eyes to see Michael gazing down at her worriedly. "I'm all right," she reassured him, to his great relief. "Let's get to work."
Less than two minutes later, they were dressed in flight suits and had the helicopter airborne. "Keller has at least ten minutes' head start on us," Michael noted. "Plus, we don't know which way he went, or by what means." He pressed a few buttons to activate Airwolf's long-range scanners. "Hold on. We're picking up an aircraft moving away from this location, bearing zero four three. Almost at the edge of radar range."
"That has to be him. Turbos," she ordered.
"Turbos," Michael acknowledged and switched the rotor lever.
Nadine pressed the red button on the cyclic and Airwolf screamed forward. Thanks to their superior speed, they caught up to the radar blip in a little over three minutes.
The aircraft database cycled through twice before a message displayed that the helicopter that now was clearly visible could not be identified. "There's nothing like that in the database," said Michael, confusion tinging his voice.
"Because it hasn't been updated in years," Nadine said. "I recognize that, though: it's a Eurocopter Tiger, and it can carry different kinds of anti-tank missiles as well as Stingers. Nowhere near as fast or as maneuverable as us, though." She double-checked a few instruments to assure herself they were operating in the green. "How about you hail them and ask if Keller's aboard. They might decide to listen to reason."
Michael keyed up the radio and spoke in German, "Attention Tiger, this is Wolf-1. If a Mr. Hans Keller is aboard, we request that you set down and hand him over to us. He is a wanted criminal."
There was no response. Instead, the Tiger peeled away.
"I guess that answers that," said Nadine ruefully. "We've no choice but to force it down."
"You've never flown combat," Michael protested.
She wrapped her hands more securely around the controls. "But Airwolf has, many times, and I studied Hawke's strategies. The trick is–" she pulled the helicopter into an ascent, "–not to let them get behind us."
Shots from the Tiger's guns ricocheted off Airwolf's armoured hull. Nadine could feel a slight pressure on her hand from the cyclic: Airwolf's computer was directing her. She went with it, banking hard to port. A missile flew by and impacted on a forested hillside below.
Michael said urgently, "We can't let this go on too long. Someone on the ground could get killed. Or we could."
"I'm well aware of that." At Airwolf's urging she sent the chopper into a dive, pulling up just a hundred feet above the treetops. The Tiger was now pursuing them along a streambed. She wove from side to side to avoid the cannon fire before making a steep climb to starboard. "Turbos." She didn't wait for Michael's confirmation before pressing the button. Airwolf surged into the sky. Nadine swung the helicopter around in a tight curve to drop behind the Tiger. Her stomach complained about the maneuver but she swallowed hard and bore it.
The pilot of the Tiger increased speed and began evasive movements, but there was no escaping now. "Deploy weapons and give me a target range." She locked the collective so she could activate the helmet's targeting visor. It descended over her face and a yellow grid lit up.
"Weapons deployed. Five hundred yards," Michael reported. "Four hundred."
"Just like bulls-eying a womp rat," Nadine muttered, and then raised her index finger to press the firing button. The 30mm cannons punched through the Tiger's armour, marking a neat line on the aft section. Its tail rotor shuddered to a halt and it began to yaw, a clear sign that the mechanics had been damaged. If the pilot didn't employ an autorotation procedure and find a place to land immediately, the chopper would start to spin and become unrecoverable.
The proximity alarm sounded, and Michael called out, "Pull up!" Automatically she pulled back on the collective and increased the power output. Airwolf soared over a hilltop that marked a sharp turn in the little valley.
The Tiger's pilot, already occupied with keeping the rotation under control, didn't react in time. Its landing gear clipped the treetops, and the helicopter tilted to the left. The main rotor hit the trees and the fuselage was hurled violently downward.
Nadine leveled off and reduced speed. After raising the targeting visor, she circled back slowly. When the crash site came into view, she couldn't help but wince. "Could anyone survive that?"
"Not likely," was Michael's quiet response. "Even if someone has, the vials certainly are destroyed." He sighed deeply and typed quickly on his console. "I've sent a message to the Firm to liaise with the local authorities and finish cleaning this up. Our job is done; let's go home."