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 8: Contradictions

After Michael contacted Principia and gave her a terse report, he arranged for the refueling stops that would be required to fly Airwolf all the way back to California. The journey would take more than nine hours.

Less than an hour into the flight, Michael once again began to suffer from the serum's hormonal side-effects. This time, however, they were fortunate: Nadine had had the foresight of grabbing some of the antidote from the lab. She passed the vial over to Michael, who temporarily pulled his left arm out of his flight suit so he could inject himself using one of the syringes in Airwolf's emergency medical kit. The effect was rapid; he closed his eyes and breathed deeply in relief.

What Nadine couldn't tell him was that she'd only had time to take one vial of the antidote. The other two she'd picked up contained the serum, one of which had broken when she'd fallen in the lab, and the other was now safely in a pouch at her hip. That plus Vogel's notebook would hopefully provide the Firm enough wherewithal to synthesize more of the antidote if needed.

She was well aware that when her own time limit arrived in approximately another hour, she would very likely die. But she had no regrets, other than perhaps a wish that she and Michael could've found a way to work together after this. There was no way she could've gone back to her suburban life in any case – too anti-climactic.

The two of them spoke little, other than exchanging pertinent flight information. Nadine suggested that he program Airwolf's auto-pilot to take over during segments that were expected to have good weather conditions. That way they could rest in turns, so they'd be fresh for the fuel stops. It would also ensure that control wouldn't be lost if anything happened to either of them. He agreed with her rationale.

All too soon, she felt the fiery pins-and-needles sensation creeping through her: the end-stage symptoms of the serum had started. Not wanting to say anything, she activated the newly programmed auto-pilot and let herself sink into a meditative state. At least, she was relatively comfortable and the safety straps would prevent her from moving too much. Michael, I'm sorry…

She jerked awake at the sound of someone calling her. "Huh?"

"You fell asleep." Michael's voice came over the comms, sounding a bit accusatory. "You could've told me. It's time for our first refuel."

"What?" She glanced at the chronometer in front of her; another hour had passed. What was going on? Why wasn't she in pain? How was she even alive? She glanced at her hands; they appeared to be normal. "Sorry, I don't know what happened."

"Next time you intend to sacrifice yourself, I'd appreciate a little warning," he said gruffly. "Airwolf alerted me when your body temperature began to fluctuate, and I noticed the auto-pilot was on. I knew what had to be wrong and I was sitting here cursing the fact that there was nothing I could do. But somehow you stabilized. You'll have to teach me that trick." A beep sounded and he reported, "The fuel tanker is hailing us."

The local time was past 11 PM when Airwolf and its two occupants finally landed on the helicopter pad behind Knightsbridge. It felt so good to be home. When they wearily descended from the helicopter, they were both hustled straight to the Firm's medical clinic for examination. "Principia's orders," they were told.

Nadine was floored when she got her first good look at herself since she'd been accidentally dosed with the serum. Her skin had firmed up and her hair was luxuriantly healthy; she looked perhaps the same age that Christina had been. Tests showed that she was in excellent health and there was no sign of any hormonal imbalance.

Michael, on the other hand, was discovered to have slowly reverted to his natural age during the flight, despite having taken the antidote. It was theorized that the antidote only counteracted the hormonal effects and didn't stabilize the de-aging element that the serum provided.

To their annoyance, they were ordered to remain in the clinic overnight so that more tests could be conducted in the morning. But they took it in stride; after all, things could've been so much worse.

19 May 2013

When Nadine woke up, she felt refreshed, and more energetic than she'd been in years. She had to submit to another round of poking and prodding before she was allowed to eat, have a shower, and dress in the clothes that had been provided for her. As much as she wanted to see Michael, she was ordered to go to Principia's office to debrief.

The Deputy Director of Intelligence greeted her warmly and offered her a mug of coffee. "Welcome home, Agent Jophiel, and congratulations on a job well done," she said. "You might want to know that during the night, we had agents trace the transponder that Archangel attached to the shipment of serum. It was located and destroyed, and the company that had intended to make use of it was indicted." Then she sighed sadly and glanced at the floor. "Your belongings at the hotel, as well as Christina Pearson's body, are being shipped home as we speak." Glancing seriously at Nadine, she continued, "Please tell me your version of events."

She cleared her throat and told Principia, blandly and without embellishment, about encountering Keller on the train, being ambushed by Dr. Vogel and his wife, and being forced to use Airwolf to deliver the serum while under its influence. Then she placed the notebook and vial of serum on the desk as she elaborated on what she knew of its effects. Next, she described their escape (leaving out the details of how she mitigated the serum's effects on Michael), Christina's sacrifice, and their hunting down Keller. "Archangel and I concluded that given the available evidence, someone might have gone to a great deal of trouble to engineer the entire situation. Else how would we have been expected there in the first place?"

Marella frowned and said, "That seems quite unlikely. The German authorities told us that they'd suspected Dr. Vogel of clandestine operations for some time, but had no proof and were keeping it under wraps."

"That means," Nadine said, her anger growing, "someone passed inside information. There's no other way to explain it. Assuming that's the case, who insisted that Archangel come out of retirement when just about any other agent could've done? Who gave the order to send us over there?"

Marella stared at her. "The Director of Security. Aidan Dalziel."

"He? Director of Security?" she whispered in shock. "He used to be my lab partner. Smart as a whip and a bit of a goofball, but I never thought he'd go that far in the company."

"I've since been made aware that he was the one who accused you of that security breach in January of '87," Marella said. "Nobody could or would tell me why, however, and as you know, the data from that time was redacted."

Nadine fixed Marella with a fiery glare as the pieces fell into place. "I'll tell you why. He was furious when I was selected to be Archangel's understudy that year instead of him. If Aidan engineered that breach and touched off all the subsequent events, he's clearly been playing a very long game to get back at us. And possibly, to remove the obstacles between himself and Zeus' chair."

"Finding Airwolf would've given him that edge," Marella concluded with a nod. "He knew that Archangel was the only one who stood the best chance of doing that, and if he were forced back into the game, the first person he'd look for was you." She picked up her desk phone. "This is Principia. Have a security detail sent to the Committee boardroom at once. Nobody enters or leaves until I get there." When she put the phone down, she gave Nadine a critical look. "Let's do this officially. Since my aide is currently out on another case, as of right now, you are my understudy. Go and get changed."

Ten minutes later, Principia and Agent Jophiel, both properly attired in white suits, made their entrance into the boardroom. The Committee members seated around the table looked quite upset, with the exception of Zeus who seemed to be trying desperately not to let any emotions show. Nadine couldn't help but be slightly surprised as she recognized the Committee chair as the woman she'd known as Ms. Bingham, who'd been a member since back in Archangel's time. She made a mental note to congratulate her if she got the chance.

She knew Aidan the instant she saw him; his bronze hair and square build were unmistakable even though he now had a distinct middle-age paunch. He didn't seem to notice her, though.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Principia said. "I apologize for these measures, but information has come to light that has warranted them."

"Would you kindly explain?" Zeus asked. "Mr. Dalziel was just reporting about the unfortunate demise of Michael Coldsmith-Briggs and two Firm agents while on an unauthorized mission to Germany. A mission, which I've been told, you sent them on to search for a non-existent objective."

"Madam Chair," said Principia firmly, "first, allow me to introduce Agent Jophiel, my understudy. She was one of the agents on that mission, and is clearly very much alive, as is Mr. Coldsmith-Briggs himself."

Mr. Dalziel started violently and stared at Nadine in amazement.

The Deputy Director continued, "Second, said mission was ordered not by me, but by Director Dalziel, in an effort to track down the lost helicopter known as Airwolf."

Zeus stood, her expression serious. "Have you proof of this?"

Principia placed a folder on the table. "These are transcripts of all the calls that were made to and from both his office and my own on the dates in question. Someone had tried to delete them, but fortunately there are ways to recover such. You will also find emails on your private server that contain Archangel's phone records and photographic evidence from his micro-camera. There's enough there to indicate that Mr. Dalziel has masterminded a long-laid plot to gain revenge for being passed over for promotion in 1986. Not only that, there's a possibility that he has designs on your job, since you are expected to retire within the next two years."

Zeus directed a glare at Mr. Dalziel and the other Committee members stirred uncomfortably. "This does change things. Perhaps you would care to revise your earlier report?"

Mr. Dalziel, having composed himself once more, crossed his arms over his chest and said, "I might have been mistaken about a few details, but otherwise, there's little revision necessary. I do feel partially responsible for the situation, since it was clearly erroneous intel that sparked that entire debacle. I assure you, the ones who provided said intel will be quickly dealt with."

Nadine glanced at Principia for permission before saying, "Start with yourself. Given the current environment, it's unlikely that any of the honoured Committee members are aware of what I'm about to say." She held up a memory stick. "You were once Dina Brandon's partner in the erstwhile internship program. You caused the security breach in 1987 and falsely accused her of it. That one act caused the entire Firm to be thrown into disarray, Archangel's reputation to be destroyed, and the deaths of multiple people. The information on here ensures that you will be held accountable for that. In addition, your subsequent orders were indirectly responsible for the death of Agent Christina Pearson."

"There are few regulations that apply to Committee members," said Principia, "but there is one that does in this case. Special Order Eleven."

All of the other Committee members burst into protests as Nadine recalled the order: an operative that became a risk to the Firm would be eliminated within forty-eight hours of their last check-in.

Zeus slapped her palm down on the table. "That's enough!" When the others quieted, she said, "Principia, you may take appropriate measures as you see fit. Agent Jophiel, I commend you for your actions in this matter."

"Thank you, Madam Chair," Nadine said gracefully.

Principia beckoned to the security detail. Two men came forward and handcuffed Mr. Dalziel, and two more joined them to escort the disgraced Director from the room.

The phone on the conference table rang, and Zeus snatched it up. "Zeus." After a pause, her expression became anxious, and she said, "I understand. Thank you, I'll relay the message." She hung up the phone and addressed the room. "That was Dr. Donovan. She recommended that Agent Jophiel go to Mr. Coldsmith-Briggs' room in the clinic as soon as possible. He's dying."

Nadine and Marella exchanged shocked glances.

Dr. Donovan showed her into the room, where an aged Michael was lying propped up on pillows. An IV was inserted into one arm and he looked gaunt – an alarming change from the tanned and hale man that he'd been a mere few days ago. "Agent Jophiel reporting," she said softly once the doctor had left.

He gave her a welcoming smile. "Hello, Dina. It's good to see you; I was hoping that you'd make it before…" he trailed off and cleared his throat.

Nadine went up to the bed and took his hand. "I'm sorry I took so long."

"That's okay. I've made my peace now. You might've saved me from the initial side-effects of the serum, but obviously the end result isn't permanent – at least, not for me. I guess as far as medical technology has come, there are still some things it can't quite do yet. Like cure old age or progressive diseases." He took a deep breath and let it out. "Samantha – Dr. Donovan – said that my endocrine system is out of whack. But this time there's no stopping it. It seems the antidote was only a stopgap. That cocktail she's got me on," he indicated the IV, "is only delaying the inevitable."

Moisture sprung into her eyes. "According to the notes that Vogel gave us, all their test subjects were injected with varying amounts of serum in each trial. They experienced the side effects in degrees commensurate to the amount given, but ultimately almost all of them died within a short time when their endocrine systems overloaded. It's likely that Vogel and his scientists didn't care anyway because most of the subjects were considered expendable."

"Keller being an exception," Michael noted.

"That was because he was taking boosters at regular intervals. Hence the time limit. But even he would probably have died eventually."

He regarded her with curiosity. "You look unchanged though, so there's still the mystery of why it was different for you."

"You're right. As soon as I got the news and realized what was happening, I had them test my blood again. I'm completely stable; there's no sign of imbalance at all. But listen–"

With a squeeze of her hand, he interrupted her. "That aside, there's something that I need to tell you, as inappropriate as it is. Since this whole thing began, I've been dealing with more than just the physical changes. It seems that I've developed feelings that I haven't had for a very long time, but I don't know if they're my own or some other effect of that damned serum." His blue eyes met hers. "The idea of an octogenarian being attracted to a woman more than thirty years his junior is crazy."

Her heart clenched. "Then we're both crazy," she admitted as she stroked his cheek with a sad look. "I always did have a thing for heroes in white suits."

He chuckled a bit, which turned into a cough. "I never was a hero," he said in self-deprecation. "For most of my life I was an intelligence agent, and a damn good one. I usually worked in the background, under the radar. Heroes are the ones who tackle problems directly, and more often than not get killed." Then he added more softly, "Like Christina."

"That was her choice; we need to forgive ourselves for it." Then she spoke more urgently. "But tell me this: would you go back to that life if you could?"

"Are you kidding?" he asked with a broad grin. "During that heist that we pulled, I felt alive again for the first time in years. Like I was helping to make a difference."

Nadine pointed out, "It almost got you killed."

He waved his other hand dismissively. "I knew I was dying anyway. If it served a purpose, I would've been fine with it. One last adventure with an old friend." Another coughing fit shook him.

She leaned down and clasped his shoulders gently. "Michael, listen. If that's the way you really feel, perhaps I can help you one more time."

His jaw dropped as an expression of hope crossed his face. "What do you mean?"

Straightening up, she unzipped the pouch she carried and withdrew a small vial. The liquid inside was a pearly colour.

"You saved some serum after all?" he asked, confused. "But we both know it doesn't work… at least, not for me."

"Marella and I figured it out," she said eagerly. "We both have degrees in biology, remember? That's why it took so long for me to get here. What this is supposed to do is rewrite cellular DNA to reverse the damage caused by natural aging. It originally didn't work for three reasons. First, the amount given was too large, causing the body's immune system to attack the rewritten cells. Second, an overabundance of certain hormones accelerates the process to the point where the body simply can't cope. Vogel's notes indicate that all the test subjects were trained soldiers or similar people whose bodies had become acclimated to adrenaline. And how did you keep yourself sharp after the Moffett incident?"

"Rage," he murmured. "And a determination to not die."

"Exactly," she said. "Which leads to the third reason: when pushed, those people all defaulted to their instinct to fight, which increased the stress hormones further and ultimately doomed them. What saved you the first time is that you let that rage go. The endorphins counteracted the other hormonal effects long enough for your body to stabilize, at least temporarily."

"Then why didn't you revert like I did?"

"I got only a fraction of the serum that you did. And I'm not a fighter; I'm introverted by nature, as you know. When I'm stressed, I manage it with meditation techniques. That's what made the difference. So," she held up the vial, "you have another chance, and then maybe we can make a difference together." She gave a small, hopeful smile. "If you want."

With a tremendous effort he sat up and embraced her. "Now I understand why I felt such a connection to you," he murmured into her shoulder. "Your bravery and your kindness."

She eased him back down to the pillows. "We'll have to swear Dr. Donovan to secrecy. You should also be sure, because if this works, you'll have to walk away from everything you know, and reinvent yourself."

Michael smiled weakly at her. "I'm all but dead already," he said softly. "Believe it or not, I always had plans in case I found you, or if I had to scrub my identity. We intelligence agents must have contingencies, after all. The only ones who know about this are Marella and Samantha." He gave a wry chuckle. "I never thought I'd have to use it this way."

Nadine opened the door and summoned Dr. Donovan, to whom she offered the vial with a terse explanation. The woman was surprised but accepted it. She made the necessary preparations and removed the IV from Michael's arm before drawing a tiny amount of the serum into a syringe and injecting him. After properly disposing of the syringe and materials she nodded and left them alone.

Sitting down in a chair next to the bed, Nadine grasped Michael's hand again as his breathing became harsh and sweat beaded his forehead. "You asked me yesterday to teach you the trick. Here's what you do." In a low voice, almost drone-like, she guided him through the meditation procedure. "Don't fight it," she reminded him in a whisper. "To your health, my friend."

Michael pulled her closer. "No. To the health of Michael Coldsmith-Briggs the Fourth. And to Dina Milton…" he took a hesitant breath, "…Briggs. If you want."

"I think that last," she said with a wondering smile, "should wait. At least until we get settled, and figure out what this thing is between us." She kissed him on the cheek. "Stay with me, Michael."

"I intend to." He closed his eyes and relaxed.