It was a somber duo that left the hot sunny tarmac for the cool interior of
Santini Air's hangar. Keeping a towel from the glove compartment over the
gun to hide it from curious eyes, Locke ushered his captive through the
narrow aisle leading to the glassed in office, summoning the team with a
raised voice. Mike Rivers and Jo Santini appeared at a run, bursting
through the office door and stopping short at sight of one of the bureau
heads of the National Department of Security being held at gunpoint by his
subordinate.
"Bucking for a raise, Jason?" Rivers blurted, surprise and speculation written on his round features.
Locke snorted without humor. "The new Smith & Wesson method of advancement. You want to get somewhere with the Company, try heavy artillery on your supervisor."
Jo glanced from one man to the other, her wide gaze settling on the pistol Jason was holding steadily on his boss. "I don't understand. What's going on? Isn't Mr. Newman on our side?"
The agent in question drew himself stiffly erect, craggy face set in hard lines, a curious desperation living in his brown eyes. "I wish to inform you, Major Rivers, Miss Santini, that this man is in performance of a felony kidnapping. You could all be considered accomplices if you abet him in any way."
"You wanna let us in on what we're abetting?" Rivers hinted, light blue eyes examining the older agent with suspicion.
Jason waved Newman to a seat, then perched on one corner of the wide desk where he could watch the man closely. "Since external security was still probing Archangel's personnel, I decided to spend some time on the computer working from another angle. Rather than starting with the whos and the whys, I tried the angle of how."
"'How,' what?" Mike asked, leaning against the entryway and crossing his arms. "How did the murder take place? How did Morris get into the country? How were Archangel and Hawke captured?"
Locke shook his head. "Started at the other end. I wanted to know how and by whom the investigation was interrupted."
"Police computers have been broken into before," Jo pointed out, wiping her hands nervously on the stylish green jumpsuit she wore instead of coveralls today. "You hear all the time about tickets disappearing and driving records being expunged."
Locke acknowledged that with a little nod. "True, but this went a lot deeper. This involved not only local and state police departments, but wormholed the DNS computer itself. No hacker could have done that; believe me, I helped design some of the safeguards." He gestured at the silent Newman with his S&W. "The only way all of that could have been accomplished was from inside the Company."
"So naturally I had to be guilty," Newman drawled sarcastically, his face flushed with anger. "I know the system even better than you do, Mr. Locke, and there isn't any way you could have traced codes as high level as you claim would have been required to wipe out an entire investigation. You don't have the clearance to access anything that sensitive, and I know for a fact the Committee hasn't been approached for authorization."
Mike shot the black agent a grin. "Super Hacker strikes again, eh?"
Locke contrived to look modest, failing miserably. "I do have a certain talent in that direction." He met Newman's glare and scowled. "Like I said, I helped design those safeguards. It took me a couple of days but I was able to crack some of them -- enough to let me know who would have been able to delete the investigative and forensic reports. You could have done it, Donald."
"Even if that were true," the older man volleyed nastily, "which I'm not admitting, that's still not proof that I'm a traitor. I might have had reasons far beyond your level of comprehension."
"Which is a not-so-subtle way of saying they could have by-passed you altogether," Jo interpreted worriedly. "Jason, are you sure...?"
A muscle clenched in Locke's dark jaw, his forehead lining with a frown, but his nod was definite. "I'm sure. But he's right -- that isn't enough proof."
"What made you decide to move then?" Mike wanted to know.
This time Locke chewed his lip, betraying a momentary hesitation, though not a trace of doubt. "With my evidence all circumstantial, my final decision had to be based on intuition. With or without proof, I knew Apollo was dirty and that if I didn't move right away it would be too late."
"Good enough for me. 'Course, now that we have him," Rivers went on, uncrossing his arms and putting his hands in the pockets of his black slacks, "what do we do with him?"
Jason's shrug was casual. "How about making him talk?"
"Good luck," the southern agent retorted, chin high.
Mike circled the silent Jo to stand behind Newman, making very certain he did not pass between the prisoner and Jason's gun. "I'll bet Saint John could persuade you to tell us something," he spoke in a velvet voice into Newman's right ear. "Saint John has a stake in this, as I recall. Something to do with his kid brother?" When Newman only turned to glare at him, Mike smiled cherubically. "You don't know my partner very well, do you. Let me tell you, Saint John is a very protective type person, especially where his brother is concerned. Goes ballistic and everything."
"Even I wouldn't mess around with Saint John's family," Locke interjected, "and I'm a friend."
"Or, you could talk to us." Mike slapped his own chest. "Hey, I'm not exactly a Stringfellow Hawke fan, but I don't like to hear about anyone messing with him, either." He bared very white teeth wolfishly. "You can discuss things with us the easy way or the hard way, it's up to you."
Newman licked his lips but was not without courage. "I demand to speak to someone in authority. If you're going to call the police, then call them. I have a few things to say to them myself."
Jason opened his mouth to reply then shut it again when the phone chose that moment to ring. He nodded Jo around the desk, she also being careful not to come between the Smith & Wesson and its target. She picked up the receiver, listened for less than thirty seconds, muttered acknowledgement and hung up. "That was Caitlin O'Shaunessey. She's on her way here. She says she has something for us but didn't want to talk over the phone. She and Ramon are bringing the chopper in, ETA fifteen minutes."
Mike tilted his head again at Newman. "Looks like you're going to get your wish, Donald, baby. Cops are on their way. I wouldn't look for too much sympathy, though; Cait's a friend of Hawke's too."
"Speaking of whom...." Locke glanced through the glass window leading out into the hangar; the old Steerman was there, nearly perpetually in for repairs. Of life there was no sign. "Where's Saint John? I would have expected him to be here hanging on the phone for word of his brother."
"We still have a lot of work to do on Airwolf," Mike answered, patting Apollo affably on the shoulder, "so we stayed overnight at the Lair. I'm heading back out to give him a hand once I pick up some parts. We figure we'll be needing the Lady once everything starts breaking."
"How near is she ready to go?"
Mike considered, boyish face screwed up in calculation. "We had to trace back the weapon deployment system circuit by circuit and replace everything hit by that armor piercing shell, and about twenty auxiliary panels on top of that. We figure two hours more maximum, less if he has some help."
Jason nodded. "I want you and Jo to head out now and give him a hand. Once we have a location on Horn, I'm calling out a full scale offensive. We're going in to blast Michael and Hawke out if necessary."
"You can't!" Newman started up, sinking back down when the gun centered between his eyes. "I mean ... not without official sanction. An assault squad requires more authorization than you have."
Locke studied him dispassionately. "I've already spoken to Bill Klondyker, the commander of Epsilon Guard and a personal friend of Michael's. He's offered me a three helicopter strike force, and I've got volunteers from Archangel's section for as many extra men as I want. Sun Li has arranged for Agent Brewster to keep a smaller unit from Zebra Squad on stand-by in case they're needed." He stared harder at the older man. "Unless you have some reason why I shouldn't attack Horn's stronghold?"
"You're too involved with the operatives," Newman shot back, a lame and obvious bluster. "It's clouding your judgement."
"His judgement has been pretty good in the past," Mike remarked from behind. "I'm willing to go with it now."
"So am I," Jo said soberly, chewing on her painted nail. "String is like my own cousin."
"And Saint John is part of the team," Mike added by way of encouragement. "We have to take care of his kid brother for him if nothing else."
Jason offered them both a grateful smile, little more than a twitch of his neat mustache, then lifted his chin briefly at the sound of rotors overhead. "Sounds like it's landing outside. Could be Officer O'Shaunessey."
Indeed it was. Still clad in uniform, Caitlin and her partner Ramon Gutierrez entered moments later, both looking grim. They stopped in the doorway, staring from agent to agent to gun with open mouths. "Got you a prisoner?" Caitlin asked at last, tucking away her sunglasses. "Was he responsible for what happened to Hawke?"
"We were just discussing the matter," Mike said in a dangerous, hard tone. "Weren't we, Apollo?"
"Apollo?" Gutierrez echoed blankly. "He's another spy?"
Rivers chuckled humorlessly. "Maybe an ex-spy."
"Never mind that!" Jo abandoned her fingernail to clasp her hands together at the waist. "Do you know where String is?"
The appeal was directed at the CHiPS officers; it was Ramon who answered. "I asked a pal of mine on the Nevada Highway Patrol to look into the APB we had out on Morris and relay anything they had even if it happened to get unexpectedly cancelled. He passed the message on to some of the officers he knew."
"Seems Bishop Morris made a little mistake once he hit the Las Vegas outskirts." Cait took over the story, resting her hands on her hips. "He got clocked for speeding. Officer let him go with a warning but he remembered the guy. Said he was heading out on old Gila Road."
"Are there many houses on Gila Road?" Jo asked.
Ramon smiled charmingly at the pretty woman. "There is one house on Gila Road, a rich man's estate about twenty miles outside the city. My buddy did a fly-by before he called me; he couldn't land because of a truck-load of armed guards on the property, but I don't think we need him to, do you?"
Mike gleefully rubbed his hands together, blue eyes starting to shine. "Nope. How about it, Jason? When do we go in?"
Locke considered, also looking pleased now that the time for action was near. "It's going to take me a while to scramble Epsilon Guard and get them into position -- I'm going to have to do it through Archangel's section in case Newman was working with an accomplice. Samantha, one of his Angels, needs to hear from me personally before issuing the authorization over Michael's sanction. That'll give you two enough time to give Saint John any assistance he needs to finish those repairs on Airwolf, then you can rendezvous with Epsilon Guard en route. Do you have a map of the area?" Jo produced one from the desk; Jason spread it out, studying it for some minutes before stabbing a spot with his forefinger. "Here, Diablo Canyon. That'll put us about seven miles from target."
"Hope y'all don't think you're leavin' me behind," Caitlin snapped, pulling the brim of her CHiPs cap a little lower over her eyes. "Hawke ... I mean, Stringfellow and Michael are friends of mine, too. And I have had experience in this kind of action with the Firm before."
Gutierrez fingered the service revolver strapped to his waist. "Same here. Two tours in Viet Nam and a lot'a years on the Force make me pretty good at this sort of thing too."
Locke eyed them thoughtfully. "Caitlin, you're already privy to what we're trying to keep under wraps; we can use you. Officer Gutierrez, I'd be grateful if you would take charge of keeping Mr. Newman incommunicado until after the prisoners are freed. I'm afraid I can't trust anyone at Company headquarters until we've had a chance for a proper interrogation."
Ramon's wide mouth turned down under his mustache. "Hate to miss the party but okay, if that's what you want."
That settled, Jason nodded curt thanks and turned to his own team. "Mike, you and Jo take off now. Saint John is going to need your help if you're going to keep to schedule. I'll go with Officer O'Shaunessey in her chopper."
Preliminary plans laid, the team had begun to mobilize but stopped en masse when Newman uttered a grunting protest. "Wait! You can't do this!"
Mike, already in the doorway, turned to look at him, nearly knocking over Jo, who had stood to follow the blond pilot out. "Maybe you don't understand," Rivers began, deadly quiet. "Those are two of ours out there, and we're going to go get them whether you like it or not."
"There's more at stake...." Newman gazed appealingly from one unsympathetic face to the other, his own features crumbling. "They have Amy," he exclaimed at last in a hopeless voice.
"Amy? Your daughter?" Startled, Locke let the gun droop slightly although not turning it away from the older agent. Captor and captive regarded each other grimly for long seconds while the others stared. "I think you'd better tell us about it, Donald."
Newman folded both hands in front of him, professional aplomb fraying badly. "My wife died two years ago when Amy was six. Considering the nature of my business and the amount of time I spend away from home, I thought it best to send her to a boarding school where she'll have constant attention. I chose Mt. Ephraim Academy for Girls because of its reputation."
"It has on-site security?" Mike asked, solid body still tensed for the impending action.
Newman nodded vaguely. "A very good security team on the campus. Amy was kidnapped while she was on her way home for a long weekend. We ... we were going to spend some time together...."
"When did they contact you?" Jason asked, interrupting the emotional segue.
Brown eyes blinked nervously, then Newman swallowed, his fight for control evident. "Less than two hours after she was supposed to deplane in Los Angeles, while I was still trying to trace her movements with the school and airline. They let me talk to her for a few minutes every week to prove she's still alive. They said that if I cooperated she would stay that way."
"Was it Horn who called you?" Caitlin asked, her voice hard edged. She'd had her own experiences with the millionaire industrialist in the past.
The man called Apollo nodded. "Somehow he knew about Archangel's transfer to Hong Kong and that the Airwolf Project was assigned to my division. He set up a meeting with me, told me in no uncertain terms that I was working for him now, and that even a hint of disloyalty would result in my daughter's return one piece at a time."
"You don't have to tell me what that rattlesnake was after." Caitlin's green eyes grew narrow, her Texas twang tauter. "Airwolf. He's made two tries already, him and that daughter of his. Angelica."
"Tell us the rest, Donald," Jason urged, resting the pistol on his knee.
Having obviously decided to come clean, Newman took a deep breath and slumped in his seat. "I know about Horn's earlier attempts at acquiring Airwolf. I pulled his file as soon as he kidnapped Amy, and he was more than willing to brag about what he'd already accomplished. Horn has been planning this for three months. He--"
"Oh, mah lord," Caitlin breathed, her fingers flying to her lips. "Three months ago.... That bomb that killed Dominic?!"
Newman ran weary fingers through his gray streaked hair. "Horn found out that the Company had contracted Blackjack Buchard to get Saint John Hawke out of Cambodia. He bribed Buchard to hold on to Hawke for trade instead of turning him over to us, then hired a mechanic...."
"One of our mechanics?" Jo gasped. "Not Everett!"
"He means an assassin," Jason explained with distaste.
The older agent nodded confirmation. "Horn hired an assassin to plant that bomb in Santini's Jetranger. I gather his plan was to isolate the younger brother and throw him off enough so he'd more readily agree to a trade. Unfortunately, Hawke ... Stringfellow was caught in the blast and killed as well ... or so Horn thought." He paused. "I think the assassin's name was Rudolph Oldman. Oldman was found in a ditch two days later with his throat cut."
"Then Uncle Dom was avenged," Jo said in an uncharacteristically hard voice.
"Yeah," Caitlin muttered, sharing a look with the other woman.
"It also looks like Saint John was right to keep String under wraps," Mike added, smoothing a wrinkle in his black slacks. "This Horn character probably would have made another try for him before he was recovered enough to defend himself."
Jason waved them to silence. "Go on, Donald. Why did they keep Amy if they thought Stringfellow Hawke was dead?"
Newman took a deep breath and continued. "Horn was working on another plan to get Airwolf. He was reportedly associating with Dr. Anastasia Zarkov, the Russian psychologist, so I'm assuming it had to do with brainwashing one of you, probably Saint John Hawke. That would have amused Horn no end."
"Saint John suspected the murderer would try again," Jo said absently. "He used to take a lot of precautions every time he went to visit String in the hospital -- so many, I never even suspected what he was up to." She fell silent, her blue eyes piercing Newman's brown ones like daggers. "You knew about the bomb that nearly killed String?"
Newman shook his head definitely. "I didn't know anything until after it had gone up -- not that I could have done anything about it anyway with Amy's life being threatened. After the ... accident Horn backed off for a while -- had to revise a lot of his strategy, I think, to fit the new team. When word got around that Stringfellow Hawke was alive, he became Horn's new target, and everything started going forward again."
"He really hated Hawke," Caitlin said quietly. "If you'd seen what he did to him the first time...."
Heedless of the interruption, the agent went on, "He forced me to send the messages changing the meeting location from the cabin to a bar so those two could be captured together -- I still don't know what he wants with Michael. As Mr. Locke surmised, it was also me who aborted the investigation to give Horn's people enough time to do what they needed to do. Once they'd gotten Airwolf safely out of the country, they were going to let Amy go."
"Kidnappers don't just let their victims go," Gutierrez said from the corner, speaking for the first time since the explanations had begun.
"Especially not snake bellies like John Bradford Horn," Cait added venomously. "He'll kill all three of 'em soon as look at 'em." She ran one hand angrily through her red hair. "Once we bust Hawke out, I know he'll be glad to help put Horn away permanently."
Newman tensed again, his shoulders coming up. "Wait. There's something else you should know. Don't count on Hawke -- either one of them -- to help you. Horn has an ace up his sleeve."
"What ace?" Rivers demanded, taking a menacing step closer to the huddled man.
"Dominic Santini."
"That's ridiculous." That was Jo, blue eyes flashing dangerously. She tossed her shoulder length blonde hair back in a furious gesture. "I saw Uncle Dom die. I buried him!"
"You buried Stringfellow Hawke, too," Apollo retorted wearily. "That's the way you buried Santini." He shook his head sadly, a crushed man looking a decade past his years. "Do you remember who it was that told you that Santini had passed away?"
Jo opened her mouth then her jaw sagged even further as realization set in. "It was you working for Horn! They brought Uncle Dom to the emergency room and then ... you came out and told me he was gone."
Apollo wrung his folded hands, head bowed with regret. "That wasn't far from the truth. The trauma center got him stabilized for transport, then Horn's men airlifted him to Las Vegas. I don't know what happened after that but I was given the impression he's still alive, maybe even recovered by now."
That elicited reaction from all quarters, the most vehement from Caitlin O'Shaunessey. "Not only is that a pretty near inhuman way to treat Dom, it's one of the cruelest things I can think of anyone doing to poor Hawke." Her thin lips drew into a pinched line. "Losing Dom would've near killed him, and even I've been grieving him ever since!"
"So have I," Jo put in as loudly, "and Saint John! He came back from Viet Nam believing Uncle Dom was murdered!"
"I'm sorry. I had no choice." Newman stood, ignoring the gun to spread both hands imploringly in Jason's direction. "And neither do you! Your people are hostages, too. If you try anything, they'll kill your friends. And Amy. She's only eight."
There was a general silence while this new information was absorbed. "I can't excuse what you did," Caitlin said at last, studying the old carpet on the floor, "but I'm not going to stand by and watch a child die, either."
"No one's going to die," Jason assured them, not without sympathy. "This simply means we'll have to double coordinate the assault to air and ground. We'll need to send a team in after the hostages first, while the choppers and shock troops provide a diversion. It'll make the final cleanup harder, but it's worked before."
Newman gulped audibly, brown eyes anxious. "If there's a chance.... Jason, you've got to let me go with you! I need to be in on this!"
Locke's refusal was immediate and a mirror of that in his comrades' expressions. "I'm sorry, Donald, I'm afraid not. After all that's happened we wouldn't be able to trust you in a firefight." He turned slightly, picking up a pad and pen from the desk and tossing them one at a time to the older man. "Draw us a diagram of the building and grounds -- as much information as you can remember. We'll use that as a map for the assault."
The other agent only stared at him, making no move to catch either object. "I've never been to the estate, but I can tell you one other thing -- Horn mentioned a nearby abandoned airstrip where they plan to hide Airwolf, and there's only one in the area that fits the bill. It's called Larchmont Field, or it was some years ago." He hung his head again, looking more downcast than ever. "They didn't consider me much of a threat," he added in a low voice. "Not even worth keeping a secret from."
Convinced of the beaten man's sincerity, Locke stowed his pistol in the shoulder holster under his jacket. "Don't worry, we'll bring Amy back safely. I promise." He waited until the older man had returned a dispirited nod, then gestured at Jo and Mike. "I'll call Saint John and tell him what's going down. You three will rendezvous with Epsilon Guard at Diablo Canyon. Officer O'Shaunessey and I will assist Zebra Squad at Larchmont Field. I'll clear it with her captain later."
"But I wanna help String and Dom!" Caitlin protested, taking a step forward.
Jason's black eyes held promise. "You will. After all, if Airwolf isn't at the Lair, Hawke might go to Larchmont Field anyway; if so, I want someone there he recognizes. We'll secure that area first, then join Airwolf and Epsilon Guard at Horn's estate. Okay?"
She bit her lip but nodded curtly. "Okay. Just remember -- Angelica is mine." She slapped her partner on the back. "You take good care of our information source, Ramon! He's gonna be standing trial later on."
"Ain't nuthin' gonna happen to him while I'm around," the Latin officer returned with one of his cheerful grins.
Newman slumped back in his chair, clasping his hands despondently between his knees. "If you don't come back with Amy, it won't matter what happens to me anyway."
"Trust me, Donald." Locke stood and waved the team ahead of him for the door. "Move out, people. We meet at Diablo Canyon in two hours, thirty minutes for the final assault. This time John Bradford Horn doesn't escape.
"And neither does his daughter," Caitlin added grimly, old hatreds making her eyes grow dark.
***
"Bucking for a raise, Jason?" Rivers blurted, surprise and speculation written on his round features.
Locke snorted without humor. "The new Smith & Wesson method of advancement. You want to get somewhere with the Company, try heavy artillery on your supervisor."
Jo glanced from one man to the other, her wide gaze settling on the pistol Jason was holding steadily on his boss. "I don't understand. What's going on? Isn't Mr. Newman on our side?"
The agent in question drew himself stiffly erect, craggy face set in hard lines, a curious desperation living in his brown eyes. "I wish to inform you, Major Rivers, Miss Santini, that this man is in performance of a felony kidnapping. You could all be considered accomplices if you abet him in any way."
"You wanna let us in on what we're abetting?" Rivers hinted, light blue eyes examining the older agent with suspicion.
Jason waved Newman to a seat, then perched on one corner of the wide desk where he could watch the man closely. "Since external security was still probing Archangel's personnel, I decided to spend some time on the computer working from another angle. Rather than starting with the whos and the whys, I tried the angle of how."
"'How,' what?" Mike asked, leaning against the entryway and crossing his arms. "How did the murder take place? How did Morris get into the country? How were Archangel and Hawke captured?"
Locke shook his head. "Started at the other end. I wanted to know how and by whom the investigation was interrupted."
"Police computers have been broken into before," Jo pointed out, wiping her hands nervously on the stylish green jumpsuit she wore instead of coveralls today. "You hear all the time about tickets disappearing and driving records being expunged."
Locke acknowledged that with a little nod. "True, but this went a lot deeper. This involved not only local and state police departments, but wormholed the DNS computer itself. No hacker could have done that; believe me, I helped design some of the safeguards." He gestured at the silent Newman with his S&W. "The only way all of that could have been accomplished was from inside the Company."
"So naturally I had to be guilty," Newman drawled sarcastically, his face flushed with anger. "I know the system even better than you do, Mr. Locke, and there isn't any way you could have traced codes as high level as you claim would have been required to wipe out an entire investigation. You don't have the clearance to access anything that sensitive, and I know for a fact the Committee hasn't been approached for authorization."
Mike shot the black agent a grin. "Super Hacker strikes again, eh?"
Locke contrived to look modest, failing miserably. "I do have a certain talent in that direction." He met Newman's glare and scowled. "Like I said, I helped design those safeguards. It took me a couple of days but I was able to crack some of them -- enough to let me know who would have been able to delete the investigative and forensic reports. You could have done it, Donald."
"Even if that were true," the older man volleyed nastily, "which I'm not admitting, that's still not proof that I'm a traitor. I might have had reasons far beyond your level of comprehension."
"Which is a not-so-subtle way of saying they could have by-passed you altogether," Jo interpreted worriedly. "Jason, are you sure...?"
A muscle clenched in Locke's dark jaw, his forehead lining with a frown, but his nod was definite. "I'm sure. But he's right -- that isn't enough proof."
"What made you decide to move then?" Mike wanted to know.
This time Locke chewed his lip, betraying a momentary hesitation, though not a trace of doubt. "With my evidence all circumstantial, my final decision had to be based on intuition. With or without proof, I knew Apollo was dirty and that if I didn't move right away it would be too late."
"Good enough for me. 'Course, now that we have him," Rivers went on, uncrossing his arms and putting his hands in the pockets of his black slacks, "what do we do with him?"
Jason's shrug was casual. "How about making him talk?"
"Good luck," the southern agent retorted, chin high.
Mike circled the silent Jo to stand behind Newman, making very certain he did not pass between the prisoner and Jason's gun. "I'll bet Saint John could persuade you to tell us something," he spoke in a velvet voice into Newman's right ear. "Saint John has a stake in this, as I recall. Something to do with his kid brother?" When Newman only turned to glare at him, Mike smiled cherubically. "You don't know my partner very well, do you. Let me tell you, Saint John is a very protective type person, especially where his brother is concerned. Goes ballistic and everything."
"Even I wouldn't mess around with Saint John's family," Locke interjected, "and I'm a friend."
"Or, you could talk to us." Mike slapped his own chest. "Hey, I'm not exactly a Stringfellow Hawke fan, but I don't like to hear about anyone messing with him, either." He bared very white teeth wolfishly. "You can discuss things with us the easy way or the hard way, it's up to you."
Newman licked his lips but was not without courage. "I demand to speak to someone in authority. If you're going to call the police, then call them. I have a few things to say to them myself."
Jason opened his mouth to reply then shut it again when the phone chose that moment to ring. He nodded Jo around the desk, she also being careful not to come between the Smith & Wesson and its target. She picked up the receiver, listened for less than thirty seconds, muttered acknowledgement and hung up. "That was Caitlin O'Shaunessey. She's on her way here. She says she has something for us but didn't want to talk over the phone. She and Ramon are bringing the chopper in, ETA fifteen minutes."
Mike tilted his head again at Newman. "Looks like you're going to get your wish, Donald, baby. Cops are on their way. I wouldn't look for too much sympathy, though; Cait's a friend of Hawke's too."
"Speaking of whom...." Locke glanced through the glass window leading out into the hangar; the old Steerman was there, nearly perpetually in for repairs. Of life there was no sign. "Where's Saint John? I would have expected him to be here hanging on the phone for word of his brother."
"We still have a lot of work to do on Airwolf," Mike answered, patting Apollo affably on the shoulder, "so we stayed overnight at the Lair. I'm heading back out to give him a hand once I pick up some parts. We figure we'll be needing the Lady once everything starts breaking."
"How near is she ready to go?"
Mike considered, boyish face screwed up in calculation. "We had to trace back the weapon deployment system circuit by circuit and replace everything hit by that armor piercing shell, and about twenty auxiliary panels on top of that. We figure two hours more maximum, less if he has some help."
Jason nodded. "I want you and Jo to head out now and give him a hand. Once we have a location on Horn, I'm calling out a full scale offensive. We're going in to blast Michael and Hawke out if necessary."
"You can't!" Newman started up, sinking back down when the gun centered between his eyes. "I mean ... not without official sanction. An assault squad requires more authorization than you have."
Locke studied him dispassionately. "I've already spoken to Bill Klondyker, the commander of Epsilon Guard and a personal friend of Michael's. He's offered me a three helicopter strike force, and I've got volunteers from Archangel's section for as many extra men as I want. Sun Li has arranged for Agent Brewster to keep a smaller unit from Zebra Squad on stand-by in case they're needed." He stared harder at the older man. "Unless you have some reason why I shouldn't attack Horn's stronghold?"
"You're too involved with the operatives," Newman shot back, a lame and obvious bluster. "It's clouding your judgement."
"His judgement has been pretty good in the past," Mike remarked from behind. "I'm willing to go with it now."
"So am I," Jo said soberly, chewing on her painted nail. "String is like my own cousin."
"And Saint John is part of the team," Mike added by way of encouragement. "We have to take care of his kid brother for him if nothing else."
Jason offered them both a grateful smile, little more than a twitch of his neat mustache, then lifted his chin briefly at the sound of rotors overhead. "Sounds like it's landing outside. Could be Officer O'Shaunessey."
Indeed it was. Still clad in uniform, Caitlin and her partner Ramon Gutierrez entered moments later, both looking grim. They stopped in the doorway, staring from agent to agent to gun with open mouths. "Got you a prisoner?" Caitlin asked at last, tucking away her sunglasses. "Was he responsible for what happened to Hawke?"
"We were just discussing the matter," Mike said in a dangerous, hard tone. "Weren't we, Apollo?"
"Apollo?" Gutierrez echoed blankly. "He's another spy?"
Rivers chuckled humorlessly. "Maybe an ex-spy."
"Never mind that!" Jo abandoned her fingernail to clasp her hands together at the waist. "Do you know where String is?"
The appeal was directed at the CHiPS officers; it was Ramon who answered. "I asked a pal of mine on the Nevada Highway Patrol to look into the APB we had out on Morris and relay anything they had even if it happened to get unexpectedly cancelled. He passed the message on to some of the officers he knew."
"Seems Bishop Morris made a little mistake once he hit the Las Vegas outskirts." Cait took over the story, resting her hands on her hips. "He got clocked for speeding. Officer let him go with a warning but he remembered the guy. Said he was heading out on old Gila Road."
"Are there many houses on Gila Road?" Jo asked.
Ramon smiled charmingly at the pretty woman. "There is one house on Gila Road, a rich man's estate about twenty miles outside the city. My buddy did a fly-by before he called me; he couldn't land because of a truck-load of armed guards on the property, but I don't think we need him to, do you?"
Mike gleefully rubbed his hands together, blue eyes starting to shine. "Nope. How about it, Jason? When do we go in?"
Locke considered, also looking pleased now that the time for action was near. "It's going to take me a while to scramble Epsilon Guard and get them into position -- I'm going to have to do it through Archangel's section in case Newman was working with an accomplice. Samantha, one of his Angels, needs to hear from me personally before issuing the authorization over Michael's sanction. That'll give you two enough time to give Saint John any assistance he needs to finish those repairs on Airwolf, then you can rendezvous with Epsilon Guard en route. Do you have a map of the area?" Jo produced one from the desk; Jason spread it out, studying it for some minutes before stabbing a spot with his forefinger. "Here, Diablo Canyon. That'll put us about seven miles from target."
"Hope y'all don't think you're leavin' me behind," Caitlin snapped, pulling the brim of her CHiPs cap a little lower over her eyes. "Hawke ... I mean, Stringfellow and Michael are friends of mine, too. And I have had experience in this kind of action with the Firm before."
Gutierrez fingered the service revolver strapped to his waist. "Same here. Two tours in Viet Nam and a lot'a years on the Force make me pretty good at this sort of thing too."
Locke eyed them thoughtfully. "Caitlin, you're already privy to what we're trying to keep under wraps; we can use you. Officer Gutierrez, I'd be grateful if you would take charge of keeping Mr. Newman incommunicado until after the prisoners are freed. I'm afraid I can't trust anyone at Company headquarters until we've had a chance for a proper interrogation."
Ramon's wide mouth turned down under his mustache. "Hate to miss the party but okay, if that's what you want."
That settled, Jason nodded curt thanks and turned to his own team. "Mike, you and Jo take off now. Saint John is going to need your help if you're going to keep to schedule. I'll go with Officer O'Shaunessey in her chopper."
Preliminary plans laid, the team had begun to mobilize but stopped en masse when Newman uttered a grunting protest. "Wait! You can't do this!"
Mike, already in the doorway, turned to look at him, nearly knocking over Jo, who had stood to follow the blond pilot out. "Maybe you don't understand," Rivers began, deadly quiet. "Those are two of ours out there, and we're going to go get them whether you like it or not."
"There's more at stake...." Newman gazed appealingly from one unsympathetic face to the other, his own features crumbling. "They have Amy," he exclaimed at last in a hopeless voice.
"Amy? Your daughter?" Startled, Locke let the gun droop slightly although not turning it away from the older agent. Captor and captive regarded each other grimly for long seconds while the others stared. "I think you'd better tell us about it, Donald."
Newman folded both hands in front of him, professional aplomb fraying badly. "My wife died two years ago when Amy was six. Considering the nature of my business and the amount of time I spend away from home, I thought it best to send her to a boarding school where she'll have constant attention. I chose Mt. Ephraim Academy for Girls because of its reputation."
"It has on-site security?" Mike asked, solid body still tensed for the impending action.
Newman nodded vaguely. "A very good security team on the campus. Amy was kidnapped while she was on her way home for a long weekend. We ... we were going to spend some time together...."
"When did they contact you?" Jason asked, interrupting the emotional segue.
Brown eyes blinked nervously, then Newman swallowed, his fight for control evident. "Less than two hours after she was supposed to deplane in Los Angeles, while I was still trying to trace her movements with the school and airline. They let me talk to her for a few minutes every week to prove she's still alive. They said that if I cooperated she would stay that way."
"Was it Horn who called you?" Caitlin asked, her voice hard edged. She'd had her own experiences with the millionaire industrialist in the past.
The man called Apollo nodded. "Somehow he knew about Archangel's transfer to Hong Kong and that the Airwolf Project was assigned to my division. He set up a meeting with me, told me in no uncertain terms that I was working for him now, and that even a hint of disloyalty would result in my daughter's return one piece at a time."
"You don't have to tell me what that rattlesnake was after." Caitlin's green eyes grew narrow, her Texas twang tauter. "Airwolf. He's made two tries already, him and that daughter of his. Angelica."
"Tell us the rest, Donald," Jason urged, resting the pistol on his knee.
Having obviously decided to come clean, Newman took a deep breath and slumped in his seat. "I know about Horn's earlier attempts at acquiring Airwolf. I pulled his file as soon as he kidnapped Amy, and he was more than willing to brag about what he'd already accomplished. Horn has been planning this for three months. He--"
"Oh, mah lord," Caitlin breathed, her fingers flying to her lips. "Three months ago.... That bomb that killed Dominic?!"
Newman ran weary fingers through his gray streaked hair. "Horn found out that the Company had contracted Blackjack Buchard to get Saint John Hawke out of Cambodia. He bribed Buchard to hold on to Hawke for trade instead of turning him over to us, then hired a mechanic...."
"One of our mechanics?" Jo gasped. "Not Everett!"
"He means an assassin," Jason explained with distaste.
The older agent nodded confirmation. "Horn hired an assassin to plant that bomb in Santini's Jetranger. I gather his plan was to isolate the younger brother and throw him off enough so he'd more readily agree to a trade. Unfortunately, Hawke ... Stringfellow was caught in the blast and killed as well ... or so Horn thought." He paused. "I think the assassin's name was Rudolph Oldman. Oldman was found in a ditch two days later with his throat cut."
"Then Uncle Dom was avenged," Jo said in an uncharacteristically hard voice.
"Yeah," Caitlin muttered, sharing a look with the other woman.
"It also looks like Saint John was right to keep String under wraps," Mike added, smoothing a wrinkle in his black slacks. "This Horn character probably would have made another try for him before he was recovered enough to defend himself."
Jason waved them to silence. "Go on, Donald. Why did they keep Amy if they thought Stringfellow Hawke was dead?"
Newman took a deep breath and continued. "Horn was working on another plan to get Airwolf. He was reportedly associating with Dr. Anastasia Zarkov, the Russian psychologist, so I'm assuming it had to do with brainwashing one of you, probably Saint John Hawke. That would have amused Horn no end."
"Saint John suspected the murderer would try again," Jo said absently. "He used to take a lot of precautions every time he went to visit String in the hospital -- so many, I never even suspected what he was up to." She fell silent, her blue eyes piercing Newman's brown ones like daggers. "You knew about the bomb that nearly killed String?"
Newman shook his head definitely. "I didn't know anything until after it had gone up -- not that I could have done anything about it anyway with Amy's life being threatened. After the ... accident Horn backed off for a while -- had to revise a lot of his strategy, I think, to fit the new team. When word got around that Stringfellow Hawke was alive, he became Horn's new target, and everything started going forward again."
"He really hated Hawke," Caitlin said quietly. "If you'd seen what he did to him the first time...."
Heedless of the interruption, the agent went on, "He forced me to send the messages changing the meeting location from the cabin to a bar so those two could be captured together -- I still don't know what he wants with Michael. As Mr. Locke surmised, it was also me who aborted the investigation to give Horn's people enough time to do what they needed to do. Once they'd gotten Airwolf safely out of the country, they were going to let Amy go."
"Kidnappers don't just let their victims go," Gutierrez said from the corner, speaking for the first time since the explanations had begun.
"Especially not snake bellies like John Bradford Horn," Cait added venomously. "He'll kill all three of 'em soon as look at 'em." She ran one hand angrily through her red hair. "Once we bust Hawke out, I know he'll be glad to help put Horn away permanently."
Newman tensed again, his shoulders coming up. "Wait. There's something else you should know. Don't count on Hawke -- either one of them -- to help you. Horn has an ace up his sleeve."
"What ace?" Rivers demanded, taking a menacing step closer to the huddled man.
"Dominic Santini."
"That's ridiculous." That was Jo, blue eyes flashing dangerously. She tossed her shoulder length blonde hair back in a furious gesture. "I saw Uncle Dom die. I buried him!"
"You buried Stringfellow Hawke, too," Apollo retorted wearily. "That's the way you buried Santini." He shook his head sadly, a crushed man looking a decade past his years. "Do you remember who it was that told you that Santini had passed away?"
Jo opened her mouth then her jaw sagged even further as realization set in. "It was you working for Horn! They brought Uncle Dom to the emergency room and then ... you came out and told me he was gone."
Apollo wrung his folded hands, head bowed with regret. "That wasn't far from the truth. The trauma center got him stabilized for transport, then Horn's men airlifted him to Las Vegas. I don't know what happened after that but I was given the impression he's still alive, maybe even recovered by now."
That elicited reaction from all quarters, the most vehement from Caitlin O'Shaunessey. "Not only is that a pretty near inhuman way to treat Dom, it's one of the cruelest things I can think of anyone doing to poor Hawke." Her thin lips drew into a pinched line. "Losing Dom would've near killed him, and even I've been grieving him ever since!"
"So have I," Jo put in as loudly, "and Saint John! He came back from Viet Nam believing Uncle Dom was murdered!"
"I'm sorry. I had no choice." Newman stood, ignoring the gun to spread both hands imploringly in Jason's direction. "And neither do you! Your people are hostages, too. If you try anything, they'll kill your friends. And Amy. She's only eight."
There was a general silence while this new information was absorbed. "I can't excuse what you did," Caitlin said at last, studying the old carpet on the floor, "but I'm not going to stand by and watch a child die, either."
"No one's going to die," Jason assured them, not without sympathy. "This simply means we'll have to double coordinate the assault to air and ground. We'll need to send a team in after the hostages first, while the choppers and shock troops provide a diversion. It'll make the final cleanup harder, but it's worked before."
Newman gulped audibly, brown eyes anxious. "If there's a chance.... Jason, you've got to let me go with you! I need to be in on this!"
Locke's refusal was immediate and a mirror of that in his comrades' expressions. "I'm sorry, Donald, I'm afraid not. After all that's happened we wouldn't be able to trust you in a firefight." He turned slightly, picking up a pad and pen from the desk and tossing them one at a time to the older man. "Draw us a diagram of the building and grounds -- as much information as you can remember. We'll use that as a map for the assault."
The other agent only stared at him, making no move to catch either object. "I've never been to the estate, but I can tell you one other thing -- Horn mentioned a nearby abandoned airstrip where they plan to hide Airwolf, and there's only one in the area that fits the bill. It's called Larchmont Field, or it was some years ago." He hung his head again, looking more downcast than ever. "They didn't consider me much of a threat," he added in a low voice. "Not even worth keeping a secret from."
Convinced of the beaten man's sincerity, Locke stowed his pistol in the shoulder holster under his jacket. "Don't worry, we'll bring Amy back safely. I promise." He waited until the older man had returned a dispirited nod, then gestured at Jo and Mike. "I'll call Saint John and tell him what's going down. You three will rendezvous with Epsilon Guard at Diablo Canyon. Officer O'Shaunessey and I will assist Zebra Squad at Larchmont Field. I'll clear it with her captain later."
"But I wanna help String and Dom!" Caitlin protested, taking a step forward.
Jason's black eyes held promise. "You will. After all, if Airwolf isn't at the Lair, Hawke might go to Larchmont Field anyway; if so, I want someone there he recognizes. We'll secure that area first, then join Airwolf and Epsilon Guard at Horn's estate. Okay?"
She bit her lip but nodded curtly. "Okay. Just remember -- Angelica is mine." She slapped her partner on the back. "You take good care of our information source, Ramon! He's gonna be standing trial later on."
"Ain't nuthin' gonna happen to him while I'm around," the Latin officer returned with one of his cheerful grins.
Newman slumped back in his chair, clasping his hands despondently between his knees. "If you don't come back with Amy, it won't matter what happens to me anyway."
"Trust me, Donald." Locke stood and waved the team ahead of him for the door. "Move out, people. We meet at Diablo Canyon in two hours, thirty minutes for the final assault. This time John Bradford Horn doesn't escape.
"And neither does his daughter," Caitlin added grimly, old hatreds making her eyes grow dark.
***