The next day Hawke and Dom sat in Michael's plush office and waited for him to show. Hawke took a sip of the coffee one of Michael's assistant had gotten him and almost gagged. He pushed the cup away from him with disgust.

'Not good?' asked Dom who had declined a beverage.

Hawke made a face. 'You think with a zillion dollar budget they could afford decent coffee.'

Dom laughed. Hawke shoved himself out of his chair and paced round the office. 'Where is Michael anyway?'

'Don't ask me, kid.' Dominic finished rolling up the sleeves of his shirt and crossed his arms over his ample chest. 'I've been sat here the same as you.'

'Maybe we should leave.' Hawke muttered.

'That'd be fine with me.' Dom said. 'I don't mind telling you I don't like the sound of this mission at all.'

'Yeah, Dom but you don't like the sound of any mission we do.' Hawke commented.

Dom shot him a look and was about to reply when the office door opened and Michael entered. His limp was still pronounced. He left the door for Marella who closed it behind her and headed for the computer.

'Sorry. We've been checking a few things out.' He walked past Hawke to his desk and lowered himself into the white leather chair. Hawke and Dom took seats opposite.

'Are we going or not, Michael?' Hawke asked impatiently.

Michael sighed. 'Our agents have tracked Tania Bening.'

Marella swung round from the computer screen. 'They moved her out of Russia. We've traced her to a farmhouse outside East Berlin.'

She indicated the screen and Hawke frowned at the fuzzy picture of a forty year old woman with blonde hair. The picture showed her being marched across a yard, her hands bound behind her back. She looked like she'd been beaten badly; her clothes were ripped and torn.

'The CIA seen this?' Hawke asked.

'They've seen it.' Michael confirmed and the tone of his voice had Hawke shaking his head.

'Let me guess,' Hawke commented, 'they're going to shoot her anyway.'

'They believe she was about to defect and that she was double crossed.' Michael adjusted his glasses.

Dom gave a huff of laughter. 'And how do we know she didn't defect, can someone answer me that?'

'Believe me, Dominic, I have asked the same question.' Michael said.

'And what was the answer?' Hawke shot back.

'At the moment only the lady and the Russians know the truth.' Michael spread his hands evenly.

'Huh.' Dom rolled his eyes.

Hawke remained silent, his eyes flickering back to the woman on the screen. He shook his head. 'I'll need all the available intelligence.'

Michael slid a folder across the desk to him.

Hawke picked up and flicked through the information, the photos and blueprints, the maps of the area the farmhouse was located within. He frowned deeply, his blue eyes scanning the information.

'Well?' Dom asked impatiently, the silence was dragging on his nerves along with the faint line appearing on Hawke's forehead; it wasn't a good sign.

Hawke looked up at him and then across at Michael. 'This is going to be difficult, Michael.'

'I know.'

Dom watched the exchange. 'What's the problem?'

Hawke's eyes remained locked with Michael's.

It was the spy who answered. 'You would need a three-man crew in Airwolf.'

'A three…' Dom's voice trailed off and he caught the smile that had been about to form. His eyes shot to Hawke hopefully. 'We could ask Cait.'

'No.'

Dom felt his temper stirring and struggled to hold it. Dammit, he'd been as understanding as he could be but the boy was just being too stubborn for words. 'String….'

'I said no.' Hawke's eyes finally met Dom's. The icy blast had the words dying on Dom's lips. His brow lowered ominously but before he could erupt Michael cleared his throat.

'Caitlin wouldn't be physically capable of the mission right now. You need two men on the ground, one covering Airwolf.' Michael said, his eyes never leaving Hawke's tense face.

Dom harrumphed but subsided. 'I guess we're sitting this one out then.'

'Maybe not.' Hawke commented. He turned to face Michael. 'But you won't make it either.'

Michael gave a small smile of regret. He always enjoyed getting the opportunity to fly in the machine he'd worked so hard to create with the pilot he'd personally chosen to fly her. 'Not this time.'

Dom's eyes flashed with mischief. 'You really fall off your horse?'

Michael ignored him and concentrated on Hawke. 'You have another solution to the manpower issue?'

Hawke rocked back and pressed his lips together thoughtfully. 'Maybe. You'll transmit all the information to Airwolf?'

Michael nodded. 'Do I get to know what your solution to the manpower problem is?' His voice was filled with curiosity.

Hawke smiled. 'No.' He jerked his head at the door. 'Come on, Dom. Let's go.'

Michael glanced at the older man who shrugged and got to his feet, cramming his shiny red baseball cap over his wispy grey curls as he followed Hawke out.

They were half way to the airfield in the Santini Air chopper when Dom cleared his throat. 'Do I get to know what the solution to the manpower problem is?'

Hawke glanced across the cockpit and studied the mulish expression on the older man's face. He steadied the chopper automatically. 'You think Doc would help us out?'

'Doc?' A wide smile spread across Dom's face at the mention of the bush pilot they'd befriended the year before. Jason 'Doc' Gifford had time in the service and he knew about Airwolf. They could count on his discretion. 'Sure he would.' The older man laughed. 'I guess you're planning to call him when we get back to the office?'

Hawke nodded. 'Yep.'

'You didn't want Michael to know?'

'Less Michael knows the better.' Hawke said. 'Besides Doc might say no.'

Dom nodded. He looked across at his young friend. His boy was thirty-four but Hawke had always looked younger than his age…until now. Lately there seemed to be more lines crossing the tanned features, more grey strands in the short brown hair and Hawke's impassive expression had seemed more of a mask than usual, more of a wall.

Dom wished he could see Hawke's eyes; they were shielded behind his aviator glasses. He sighed deeply. 'You told her to stay in Texas, didn't you?'

Hawke's head snapped round to Dom before he jerked his gaze back to the sky. He didn't deny the statement. He couldn't.

'Ah, kid.' Dom shook his head. 'Why didn't you tell me?'

Hawke didn't reply for a long moment. 'At least this way, Cait's still talking to one of us.' He tried to keep the comment light but glancing across at Dom's serious face he knew he'd failed.

'She'll come round, String.' Dom tried to reassure him.

Hawke kept silent. He wasn't so sure that he deserved to keep her friendship given how badly he'd hurt her.

'Well, maybe it's for the best.' Dom said trying to lighten the mood. 'I mean, we never really meant for her to get so involved, huh?'

'You sound like Michael.' Hawke muttered.

'Now, now. There's no need to insult me.' Dom said.

Hawke's eyes slid over to the older man and Dom smiled back at him. The corners of his own lips curved upward a little in response and he felt the tension drain out of him as he turned back to the sky.