Bening banged the conference table and the chatter around the room ceased abruptly. He sighed. The morning briefing session for the task force was supposed to start but both the NSA and FBI representatives were still missing. He was about to begin when the door burst open and Robert Delaney rushed in.

'My apologies.' Delaney said inclining his head at General Bening before sitting down at the table and unpacking his briefcase. 'I was delayed.'

Bening's grey flinty eyes shot back to him. 'Delayed?'

'Yes.' Delaney said and blew some dust off his folder which landed on Bening's sleeve. 'Once again I apologise for interrupting, please continue.'

Bening frowned. 'We were just about to start.' He looked around at the assembled team. 'Anybody know where the FBI are?'

Everybody shrugged.

Bening swallowed his anger. 'Let's begin.' He turned and nodded at the airforce commander, Martin, sitting to his left.

'I have a shortlist of three pilots for the team. All are naturally talented with combat experience. They possibly stand the best chance against Hawke in the air.'

'I have another three names to add to those,' said Armstrong, an army General and contemporary of Bening's. 'But I still believe that Hawke is unbeatable in the air and in that machine.'

'Luckily, we all don't share such a defeatist view.' Bening began.

'That's because you've never served with Hawke. I'm telling you that boy is to flying what Mozart was to music.'

'General Armstrong if you would like to be excused from the task force, I'll personally make the request for you to the Commander in Chief.' Bening snapped.

Armstrong bristled and went bright red. 'That won't be necessary.'

There might have been an awkward pause but the door was flung open and the FBI agent, Scott Oglivy rushed through.

'Sorry,' he said taking a seat, 'but I thought you'd want to know; we've found them.'

'You have?' Delaney asked.

'Yeah, they're in a town called Campton.' Oglivy said pulling the files and a video from his briefcase. 'It was an amazing stroke of luck.' He pushed the video into the player and pressed the remote to project the images up onto the back wall. 'Apparently, one of our special agents is working with the Campton PD tracking down some members of a white militant group that have been operating here in the US.'

'Really.' Bening said focusing his attention on the video.

The film was shaky and obviously taken from a helicopter. It showed a normal suburban house below it, lit up by spotlights from another couple of choppers that were circling. A number of police and law enforcement agency vehicles were parked in the driveway and road, the blue and red lights strobing across the lawns. There were a number of people on the ground with the neon FBI on some of the windbreakers distinguishing the agents from the Campton PD. In the midst of the chaos of cars and people, the front door of the house opened and a handcuffed man was escorted by officers from the building, swiftly followed by a woman.

Bening shifted in his seat, frowning deeply.

'Here it comes.' Oglivy said.

Suddenly, the camera swung to the neighbouring house and the shouts of surprise on the ground could be heard as a dark shape lifted up from the ground; Airwolf. It moved forward barely clearing the gathered vehicles; the officers and agents could be seen ducking to avoid the white belly. An eerie shriek reverberated through the speakers and the film rocked as the chopper was caught with the backwash as Airwolf went to mach speed. Suddenly, the film went to fuzzy static.

Oglivy switched it off. 'We think they hit us with some kind of jamming device but we got what we needed. We know where they are.'

'No,' Bening corrected him, 'you know where they were.'

'Yes, but it's a great lead. It looks like Hawke was going after the same two people we have in custody.' Oglivy said.

'We can't know that; they were in the neighbouring house,' objected Bening.

'Hawke wasn't likely to warn them by landing in their backyard.' Armstrong retorted. 'The question is why is Hawke in Campton and why is he interested in these two people. Who are they?'

'Roland Higgs and Veronica Hilly. Higgs used to be married to Hilly's sister. I don't have all the details on either of them yet.' Oglivy replied.

Delaney pursed his lips. 'Didn't you used to live in Campton, General Bening?'

'Yes.' Bening admitted. 'In the late sixties.'

'Well,' Delaney spread his hands, 'that's obviously why Hawke headed there.'

'But why these two people?' Armstrong pressed. 'Do you know them?'

'I don't,' Bening said, 'but I intend to. Oglivy, make the arrangements with the special agent in charge. I will head to Campton and interrogate them personally.'

'But sir…' Oglivy's protest died at the stern look the General gave him.

Bening surged to his feet. 'I'll be en route to Campton if anybody gets an update.'

The assembled group were left looking at each other with bemusement. Oglivy and Delaney exchanged a satisfied look and the FBI agent got to his feet.

'I'd better go make those arrangements.' He said leaving the room.

'OK, Delaney.' Armstrong said. 'What's going on?'

'Ah, a military man asking questions.' Delaney said with a smile and began to pack up. 'I'm impressed.'

'What's going to happen in Campton, Delaney?' Armstrong asked his dark eyes gleaming remembering what a brilliant strategist Hawke had been.

'I don't know.' Delaney smiled. 'But I would bet that Bening does.'

Martin and Armstrong looked at each other.

'You want to share what you do know Delaney?' Martin asked.

'Like why you and Oglivy are exchanging pleased smiles?' Armstrong added

Delaney spread his hands. 'Honour among spies, maybe?'

Armstrong gave a long-suffering sigh at the spy double-talk and stood up. 'Tell me one thing Delaney, how close is Hawke to ending this debacle?'

Delaney hesitated and picked up his briefcase before relenting. 'Put it this way, I don't think you'll be needing those pilots.'