Hawke was almost pleased when Doc made his goodbyes and he dropped him off at the airport. He'd thought non-stop about their conversation the night before last and the ultimate result was that he was confused as hell about what he was going to do. He went on to Santini Air and threw himself into a complicated flight plan with the focus of a man possessed, grateful for the distraction. He was half-way through it when there was a knock against the open office door. He kept his eyes on the aerial map and waved the customer inside almost absent-mindedly. 'Can I help you?'

'I hope so.'

Hawke's eyes snapped up to his visitor and he straightened. 'Ms Bening.' She looked good he thought as he took the hand she held out and nodded at the request to call her Tania. She was a contrast to the last image he had of her; she was smart and composed in a lightweight two piece trouser suit that practically screamed CIA.

'How are you?' He asked.

'Good.' Tania gave a half-shrug. 'Considering.'

There was an awkward pause.

Hawke frowned. 'Not to be rude but…'

'What am I doing here?' Tania completed. Her hazel eyes smiled at him. 'Are you always this suspicious?'

'Yes.' Hawke answered. The absence of any humour in his eyes and expression caught her off guard and her own smile fell away.

'Ah.' Tania gestured at the seat. 'Could I sit down?'

'Coffee?' Hawke suggested waving her into the chair and went to pour two mugs at her nod of acceptance.

He handed her the solid but chipped pottery and almost smiled at the slightly horrified look in her hazel eyes.

She took a hesitant sip and quickly put the mug down. She smoothed her pale green trousers. 'I need your help.'

'You need Airwolf.' Hawke said bluntly.

'And Archangel thought this would be easy.' Tania sighed.

'Michael?' Hawke was taken aback. 'Michael sent you?'

Tania nodded.

The momentary surprise faded quickly from Hawke's expression and he took a gulp of coffee. He should have known, he thought wryly, Michael always had been a sucker for beautiful, intelligent women – especially aristocratic blondes.

'Why do you need Airwolf?' Hawke asked.

'I want your help to find my daughter.' Tania said. She held up a hand to forestall his anticipated protest. 'The FIRM managed to track down that my daughter wasn't killed as Simone suggested. In fact, most of what I uncovered was inaccurate.' She sighed. 'Michael had one of his people look into it and it turns out that my daughter is living in Russia but she disappeared just a couple of days before I got to Russia.' She pulled a file from the leather satchel she was carrying. 'Michael found her.'

Hawke rubbed his chin and took the file. 'They kept her as extra insurance. In case the ruse with Simone failed and you suspected something.'

'Yes.' Tania blushed. 'She's alive.'

Hawke flicked through the contents. 'She's being kept in Kritchov's Yugoslavian villa?'

Tania nodded.

'If we go in with Airwolf, we could start world war three.' Hawke commented. 'That region is a tinderbox.'

'You could do the same as you did for me; use Airwolf as transport only.' Tania argued.

'I'd like to help you, Tania…'

'Please, she's my daughter.' The control slipped and desperation poured out. 'I know you understand what it's like to search for someone.'

'I do understand. More than you think.' Hawke said softly.

Their eyes caught and held. His blue eyes softened as he saw the tears of frustration in hers.

She stood up and slid her hand over his; her eyes still looked into his. 'Please.'

Hawke turned his hand over and interlinked their fingers. He sighed. 'OK. I'll go get your daughter.'

'I want to come with you.' Tania insisted.

Hawke shook his head. 'You stay here.' He held up a hand mimicking her earlier action. 'That's the deal.'

Tania breathed in deeply. 'OK. Deal.' She smiled tremulously. 'Thank you.'

'Don't thank me yet.' Hawke warned her. 'I'm not giving out guarantees.'

She nodded. 'I'll leave you to it.'

Hawke watched her leave. He picked up the phone and dialled Michael.

'Hawke.' Michael sounded suspiciously unsurprised, almost expectant.

'You really think the daughter's still alive?' Hawke asked without any preamble.

'I have it on good authority that she is.' Michael replied.

'Your leg better?' Hawke asked.

'Good enough.'

'I'll pick you up at the usual place in an hour.' Hawke put the phone down and headed out.

Michael was waiting patiently when Airwolf peeked over the undergrowth and set down beside his limo. He handed his cane to Marella and took the computer disc she held out. 'Mind the store.'

She nodded. 'Good luck, sir.'

Hawke barely waited for Michael to close the door before he was lifting off and they were on their way. They set down in the countryside outside the villa to rest and go over the plan. They'd hit the villa just after dusk the next day using the night to cover their escape run back across Europe. They established a camp fire and Dom made a stew. There was plenty of banter over cordon bleu cooking and the reality of mission rations over the meal itself and soon they were sat with coffee and the night surrounding them like a dark, warm blanket.

Michael took a sip of the strong brew and wondered at his contentment. He missed it, he realised, he missed being out in the field. His gaze flickered to the gleam of the black wing behind Dominic a little wistfully before skipping to the older man and then to the younger pilot. Hawke was staring into the darkness, his face unreadable in the shadows. He watched as Hawke got to his feet, picked up the square steel cans they used as plates and the water canister.

'There's a stream not far. I'll go wash up and refill the water canister.' Hawke said moving off without waiting for a reply.

'Stream?' Michael said when he believed the pilot was out of earshot.

'Don't look at me.' Dom replied with a laugh. 'At my age, I'm just pleased to still have normal hearing.'

Michael smiled and raised his tin mug to his lips again. There was a comfortable silence for a while as the two men enjoyed the last of the coffee and the firelight.

Eventually Michael nodded in the direction Hawke had taken. 'How is he?'

'You can see how he is.' Dom said defensively before relenting at the spy's obvious concern. 'He's missing her.' He gave a snort. 'We both are.'

'She's been offered a job.' Michael said. In the undergrowth, a returning Hawke froze at Michael's words.

Dom's eyes shot to the spy. 'You've seen her?'

Michael shook his head. 'I've had someone…keep a friendly eye on her.'

'You mean spy.' Dom said frowning.

'I mean keep a friendly eye on her.' Michael insisted. 'She doesn't have the protection of being with you and Hawke anymore.'

Hawke frowned. It had never occurred to him that Caitlin might be in more danger outside of his immediate circle. He tuned back into the conversation by the fire.

Dom sighed. 'So? What's the job?'

Out of sight, Hawke held his breath listening for the reply.

'A deputy sheriff position.' Michael's voice drifted over to him. 'Apparently she helped foil some bank robbery yesterday and they were so impressed they offered her the position.'

'Is she going to take it?' Dom asked.

'Your guess is as good as mine.' Michael said. 'But it doesn't look as though Hawke is going to change his mind and she's going to have to move on sometime.'

Dom sighed. 'I know it.' He folded his arms across his chest and rocked back.

Hawke remained still as Michael changed the subject. His conversation with Doc lingered in his head. Would she forgive him if he asked her to come back? Was it already too late? He shook himself. He couldn't think about this now…he took a deep breath and moved through undergrowth. Dom and Michael were trading shots over some political scandal from the past and when he slipped back into his seat they left him to his own thoughts.

The next day passed uneventfully and all three were eager to get to the mission as the sun set. Dom dropped Hawke and Michael close to the villa. They would sneak in and get the girl and hopefully make it out without alerting a single guard. The two men easily got into the compound and into the villa itself without detection. They were both expertly trained at hiding in the shadows. Michael covered Hawke as they made their way up the stairs and started checking the bedroom.

Hawke signalled at the sound of guards approaching and the two of them slipped into a shadowed alcove. The guards stopped just in front of them and the two men held their breath. They spoke in a low voices and Hawke strained to hear what they were hearing.

'Did you get that?' He whispered at Michael as the guards moved off.

Michael nodded. 'She's in the room at the end of the hall.'

They made their way there quickly. Hawke crouched and looked through the key-hole. Kyra was in the middle of the room, tied to a wooden back chair. There was a shadow across her; at least one person maybe more. He studied the door and the frame. His eyes narrowed. Trip-wire. Some kind of booby-trap. He pointed it out to Michael and they checked out the room next door in the same way. It was fine.

They eased in and closed the door behind them noiselessly. Hawke went quickly to the windows and climbed out onto the balcony and over the small dividing wall to the next bedroom. Michael followed him, checking constantly for guards. Hawke stared at the sky.

'What is it?' Michael asked.

'Time's up. There're choppers on the way.' Hawke replied quietly. He sketched out the plan and peered through the balcony window. Two guards. He took a deep breath and threw himself through the glass exploding into the room in a shower of shards. He hit one of the guards as he entered, rolled as he landed coming up on his feet to take him out completely with a kick. Another was swinging his gun around. Michael aimed and fired. The guard fell backwards, dead. Hawke quickly went over to the young girl. She looked a lot like her mother; same blond tawny hair, same hazel eyes, same cheekbones. He cut the ropes binding her and grabbed her hands.

'Come on.' He said.

'Who are you?' She managed to stutter out in heavily accented English.

'Your mother sent me.' Hawke said shortly pulling her towards the balcony.

'We need to get out of here.' Michael said urgently.

Hawke pointed at the roof. 'Climb.'

She stood stock still as she caught sight of Airwolf coming in low over the wall. 'What is that?'

'Climb.' He urged her and she thrust her hands through the rosy vines and grabbed the trellis, climbing up to the roof as instructed. Airwolf careened into a covering position between them and the guards below as bullets struck the stone walls around them. It was a short climb. They crouched until Airwolf hovered close enough for them to climb in.

Hawke took over the controls and sent Airwolf sideways as two missiles meant for the aircraft impacted into the roof. He ducked under one chopper and it turned and chased him over the countryside; the other chopper remained hovering by the villa.

A missile was taken care of by a sunburst. Hawke cut back and flew directly at the hovering chopper. It fired a missile. Hawke fired back and the missiles impacted in mid-air right in front of both aircraft. Hawke pulled Airwolf up sharply, the chopper in front seeing the white of her belly and the guts of her ADF pods before the second chopper surprised and watching the move flew straight into its mate. Airwolf screamed triumphantly as Hawke turned and dived, heading for home.

The debriefing was held the next day in the Santini Air office around the desk with mugs of stewed coffee and only the three men and Marella in attendance.

'So how are the Benings?' Hawke asked.

'Very happy.' Michael confirmed. 'Tania has resigned from the CIA and she's planning to move with her daughter, Sara, to France. She thinks Sara will be more comfortable in Europe.'

'That and I think she wants to get some distance from her father.' Marella commented. 'By all reports, he wasn't happy at how things unfolded. He thinks her actions endangered his campaign to be a senator.'

Dom shook his head. 'Unbelievable.'

'Man has ambitions, Dominic.' Michael noted. His good twinkled. 'Unlike some.'

Dom gave him a snooty look.

'You think he's aiming for the White House?' Hawke asked before the two of them could get going again.

Marella smiled. 'I wouldn't put it past him. He's got a lot of support.'

'Well he won't have my vote.' Dom said firmly.

Michael smiled. Mine either, he thought although he would have cut off one of his arms than admit he agreed with Dominic. He put down his mug and caught Marella's attention. 'We should get going.'

She slipped off the desk she'd been perched on and handed his cane to him. They sauntered out and the other two watched them go, lifting into the sky in the FIRM's white helicopter and disappearing.

'I have to get going too, kid.' Dom slapped his red cap back over the grey wispy curls. 'I have that run up to Arcotta Bay.' He patted Hawke's shoulder and held it in a tight squeeze. 'Don't forget, I'm going to stay with my friend Mack a few days and you're covering the business.'

'I remember.' Hawke said. They hugged goodbye and Hawke watched Dom climb into the Santini chopper and take her up. He was about to wander back into the office when he caught sight of the approaching car. He waited realising it was heading toward the hangar. It stopped and Tania Bening stepped out with an unconscious easy grace.

Hawke stuffed his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. 'Hey.'

'Hey.' She closed the car door and came around to lean on the passenger door. 'I came to say thank you.'

Hawke shrugged her gratitude away. 'Michael tells me you're heading to France.'

'Yeah.' Tania rubbed her arms. 'It's going to be a new start for us.'

'Sounds good.' Hawke noted.

'I hope so.' Tania said. Her eyes scanned his. They were unyielding and she hesitated for a moment before stepping up to him. His hands moved to steady her hips even as hers curled around his shoulder and her lips settled on his.

It was a pleasant kiss and Hawke was briefly tempted to take what was clearly on offer. He raised his head.

'Tania…' The regret in his voice told her everything she needed to know. She stepped out of the embrace.

There was an awkward silence.

She sighed deeply. 'Well, I guess I've made a bit of a fool…'

Hawke took her hand. 'It's not you, Tania.'

'I didn't imagine it, did I?' Tania asked. 'You are attracted to me.'

'You're an attractive woman.' Hawke allowed. 'But…' His voice trailed away uncertain what to say.

Tania smiled at his confusion. 'There's somebody else.'

Hawke opened his mouth to deny it and closed it again wordlessly.

'She must be something special.' Tania said wistfully.

'She is.' Hawke confirmed gruffly.

'Tell her she's a very lucky woman.' She gave him a chaste kiss before she walked back to the driver's side of the car and opened the door. She paused and looked back at him.

'Hawke, my father…' Tania cleared her throat. 'Watch out for him.'

Hawke tilted his head at the warning and frowned as he watched her drive away. He wandered back into the office and sighed at the mountain of paperwork on the desk.

It was late when he finally got back to the cabin. He was hungry and he made straight for the kitchen. When the edge of his initial hunger was smoothed, he gave in and went to the cupboard where he'd stored the box of Caitlin's things. He picked up the photo and wandered back to the easy chair. The words of Caitlin's mother drifted back to him.

'I think you know what you need to do to keep Caitlin safe. All I'm asking is that you do it…Could you live with knowing you had the chance to keep her safe and didn't take it?'

Hawke frowned. He'd hurt Caitlin so badly when he'd told her that he didn't want her to come back to LA. She'd been so fragile after the shooting, after saving his life and he'd deliberately, knowingly, hurt her. He'd tried to convince himself that he'd done what her mother had asked, done what he did because he was keeping her safe but Doc had been right; he'd been protecting himself more than Caitlin. He'd lost so many people…if he'd lost her…but he had lost her. The sudden clarity hit him and his chest seized. He'd lost her.

He had to get her back. The thought instinctively crystallized in his head. He had to get her back.

'Look, go to Texas. Tell her how you feel, really feel. Give her some flowers and chocolate, grovel a little, well maybe a lot. She'll come back.'

Doc's advice teased at him. Would she come back? Would she forgive him? He had to try, Hawke realised. He closed his eyes tiredly. He had to go to Texas and try…

Hawke jerked awake.

A helicopter was approaching. His head lifted, angling for a better position to hear. He rubbed his hand over his face and made for his gun. The chopper coming in was army and he didn't recognise it. He tucked the weapon into the waistband of his jeans at the back and pulled his sweater back over it. He went out to the porch and waited.

A familiar figure alighted from the chopper; General Bening. Hawke frowned before erasing all expression from his face.

The General approached. 'Captain Hawke.'

'General.' Hawke's eyes flickered back to the chopper and the two armed soldiers taking position at its flank.

'May I come in?'

Hawke considered the request and led the way into the cabin. 'Can I offer you a drink?'

'No. Thank you.' The General's eyes widened as he took in the priceless art adorning the walls, clashing with the simple faded furniture. 'I see the reports were accurate.'

Hawke had moved to the fire. He stood in front of the hearth, legs apart, arms folded; tensed, ready, waiting. 'I'm sure you didn't come to admire my art collection.'

'No small talk, Captain?' The General took a position by the sofa in front of him. 'I read your file.'

Hawke remained silent.

'It's impressive. You had an outstanding record in 'Nam during both tours. When the war was over you were transferred to the NASA space programme where you did one space flight as a pilot before leaving NASA and joining the FIRM at the specific request of Michael Coldsmith-Briggs III also known as Archangel. During this time you completed a degree in engineering, a second in astrophysics, and studied cello with some of the grand masters. You worked as an operative intermittently for an unknown period of time before joining the Airwolf project in eighty-one. You were assigned as lead test pilot in eighty-two beating out several highly qualified pilots including the designer, Charles Moffett himself. You left at the beginning of eighty-three after differences with Moffett. At the beginning of eighty-four you were hired by the FIRM to recover the aircraft following Moffett's theft of her. You kept the aircraft and made a deal with your friend, Archangel; Airwolf missions for information on Saint John, your elder MIA brother.'

'As fascinating as this review of my personal history is,' Hawke stated, 'do you have a point?'

'You have a reputation, Hawke, as a brilliant pilot, a skilled operative and an intelligent strategist.'

'Why, thank you.'

The General smiled. 'You don't like me, that's fine. You don't have to like me to work for me.'

Hawke didn't even blink. 'And I would work for you because…'

'I can get you the information on your brother.'

Hawke's eyes narrowed. 'And you would do this because...'

'Same deal as you have with Archangel.' The General came to a stop in front of him. 'Only difference is that you fly Airwolf missions for me.'

'Thank you but I'm not interested.' Hawke said quietly.

'Archangel can't get near the information you need, Hawke.'

'Michael will find a way.' Hawke's voice rang with the confidence he had in his friend.

'Your trust in him is misguided.' The General said softly. 'I can get you access to mission logs from your brother's special unit.'

Hawke shrugged. 'As you say, I trust Michael. If the information exists, Michael will get it.'

The General clasped his hands behind his back. 'Did you know after the embarrassment of the actions taken by Bogard, a policy of non-intervention was unofficially assumed by all the agencies and military over Airwolf remaining in your hands?'

'I assume this is going somewhere.' Hawke said disturbed at the mention of Bogard, an operative for the Department of Public Security who had come after him shortly after he'd taken Airwolf. Bogard had initiated an intense satellite search for Airwolf, sent a Senate Committee after Michael and chased Hawke in Airwolf into a B52 bombing run not caring if the pilot lived or died.

'That policy could be retracted.'

Hawke rubbed his chin. 'That could be interesting.'

The General took a step forward to stand mere inches from Hawke. 'You don't want to take me on.'

'Bogard said the same thing.' Hawke noted, matching the other man glare for glare.

Bening stiffened. 'You're making a mistake.'

'Mine to make.' Hawke returned.

Bening spun on his heels and left. The sound of his chopper leaving filled the cabin.

Hawke stared at the open door for a long time before he walked over to shut it. He had a feeling it wasn't going to be the last time he heard from Bening.

It was for that reason that he found himself back in Michael's office the next day bringing the spy up to date on the visit.

'I get the impression he's not about to let this drop.' Hawke concluded rolling his shoulders and trying to ease the tension that settled there.

'Damn the man!' Michael lurched out of his chair to stare out of the large window behind his desk, his hands thrust into his trouser pockets. There was fury written in the set of his shoulders.

'Michael, you did tell me when we made our deal that I would have every agency in the US coming after me and we haven't heard anything since Bogard. He was right about that unofficial policy, wasn't he?'

Michael got a grip of his anger and turned around to look at his friend. Hawke was stood leaning against the computer terminal, heedless of the fact he was leaning against a million dollar piece of sensitive equipment. He was in the only suit he seemed to have and unusually looked out of sorts; Bening's visit had definitely perturbed him.

'Hawke, you bested one of the best operatives in the business. Nobody was keen to go up against a man who not only had the audacity to take a four billion dollar aircraft through a B52 bombing run but survive it.' Michael's own anger lessened as he remembered how Hawke had called Bogard's bluff. He gave a half-smile. 'And then the intelligence was building that Airwolf was being used in support of US interests; the Russians were running scared of the very idea we still had Airwolf so…'

'So they did unofficially decide to leave us alone.' Hawke concluded.

Michael nodded. 'If General Bening decides to call open season…'

'What about you Michael?' Hawke asked. 'Can he make trouble for you?'

'My position will make it difficult for him but…' Michael shrugged. 'My involvement with Airwolf hasn't made me many friends in the FIRM. There are people who would be only too willing to assist Bening in removing me.' He sat back down. 'If you turn up and I've suddenly been reassigned, you know why.' Michael hesitated and Hawke gestured at him.

'Spit it out Michael.'

'He could stonewall me completely on your brother. If he knows where the information is…' Michael felt compelled to point out the truth. 'Bening could make it more difficult to get to. Your better option may be to take up his offer.'

'Like hell.' Hawke said, shifting his position slightly. 'If the information exists, you'll get it Michael.'

Michael leaned back in his chair and tried to ignore how pleased he was with Hawke's answer. 'His visit last night, it disturbed you.'

Hawke pushed off the computer terminal and paced over to slump in a chair opposite the desk. 'It did what he intended, Michael. He knew I wouldn't take the deal, he was just putting me on notice.'

'Don't be too certain about that. Whoever controls Airwolf has the ability to shift the balance of power in any given situation.' He pointed at Hawke. 'You hold that power and Bening wants it. A deal would have gotten him Airwolf and her pilot.'

'But he'll settle for the Lady and hold the power himself.' Hawke murmured as Michael nodded in agreement. There was a silence as they absorbed the new threat.

Michael sighed. 'Perhaps we could use the same strategy we applied after Bogard; keep the Lady under wraps for a time. If you're not using her, it'll be difficult for anyone to come after you.'

Hawke rubbed his chin thoughtfully. 'I guess.'

'Actually, we could even use the time to upgrade her programming and her systems. Get her in peak condition.' Michael leaned forward excitedly. 'Computing has moved on in the time that you've had Airwolf. If we don't upgrade soon, she'll be overtaken by other machines.'

'Yeah, because I'm going to let a whole team of FIRM people near her programming.' Hawke muttered.

'I was thinking of Karen Hansen.' Michael said naming the last computer programmer Hawke had trusted to program Airwolf.

Hawke looked at Michael's hopeful expression. 'OK. Set it up.' He stood up. 'I'd better get back. I'm supposed to be covering for Dom.'

'You haven't told him yet?' Michael asked.

Hawke shook his head. 'He's up the coast visiting with an old army buddy.'

'Hawke…' Michael sighed. 'Watch your back. If Bening comes after you, it'll be through the people you care most about.' He suppressed a shiver as Hawke's eyes went glacial. The pilot saluted a farewell and headed out.

Michael felt his fury stir again as soon as the door closed behind the pilot. General Arthur Bening had a lot of nerve, he had to give him that, going to the cabin and propositioning Hawke with information on Saint John, trying to cut Archangel out of the deal he had with Hawke over Airwolf. Michael got to his feet and marched over to the drinks cabinet in his office. He poured a large glass of bourbon.

It had been a clever strategy. Michael thought, swirling the liquid in the crystal. Hawke's primary weakness was his brother and he usually stopped thinking clearly when it came to finding Saint John. Michael was almost surprised that Hawke hadn't taken the General's offer but then maybe the McBride incident, when a drug smuggling operation had used Hawke and his obsession, had knocked some sense into the pilot. After all, he'd been led to believe his brother was dead before they'd discovered exactly what McBride had been up to.

And maybe, Michael admitted, the unexpected friendship he and Hawke had developed since the pilot had recovered Airwolf had helped. Hawke was loyal to his friends and would protect them whether they wanted him to or not, and that, Michael realised with a twinge of amusement, now included him. Michael knocked back the bourbon. If Bening wanted a fight, thought Michael, Hawke wouldn't need to stand alone because there was no way in hell that he was going to let Bening destroy Hawke or get Airwolf; no way in hell. The crystal thudded onto the desk.

'Marella!' Michael yelled.

The door opened. Marella swept across the room. 'You called, sir.'

'I need all the information we have on General Bening.'

Marella handed him a folder.

He took it from her and pushed his glasses back up his nose. 'Hawke tipped you off.'

She smiled enigmatically, her dark eyes twinkling and walked back out of the office.

He sighed and settled down to read.