Dominic Santini stared at the office door of the acting director of the FIRM in front of him and raised his fist to knock. He stopped. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea, he thought. The intelligence agency was a hive of politics and conspiracies; he had never liked being involved with it. He lowered his hand and sighed. He looked around the quiet outer office he was stood in and was pleased that there was no-one around to witness his indecision. If he left now no-one would even know he had been, he mused and slapped his red baseball cap on his grey curls as though to punctuate the decision. He'd taken two steps from the door when it opened. He looked back automatically and met the stunned good eye of Michael Coldsmith-Briggs III with resignation.

'Dominic.' The acting director of the FIRM acknowledged the pilot with a cautious smile and adjusted the cuffs of his white suit. It was his usual outfit along with the black eye patch and the much-needed accessory of the rosewood cane.

'Michael.' Dom responded politely, straightening his shoulders and meeting the spy's curious gaze.

Michael pushed his wire-frame glasses up his nose and frowned. It was unusual for the older man to be without their mutual friend, Stringfellow Hawke, and he had never known Dom to come to his office alone before. 'Was there something you wanted? Has something happened to Hawke or Caitlin? To Airwolf?'

'No, no.' Dom reassured the spy quickly. 'As far as I know Hawke and Caitlin are safe as houses and Airwolf's just fine.' The world's most technologically advanced helicopter was in full working order and the couple were in the middle of a short holiday to celebrate the two-month anniversary of their wedding; the holiday was also acting as a much needed recovery period for the couple following the young female pilot's survival of an attempted rape.

Michael waited for Dom to speak again and shifted his weight when his bad knee began to protest. 'So you're here because…'

Dom opened his mouth and then hesitated again. 'No. It doesn't matter.' He gestured. 'I'll be going.'

'Dominic. It's obviously something important or else you wouldn't be here.' Michael took a step sideways and ushered the pilot into the inner office.

Dom sighed and took his cap off stuffing it into the pocket of his blue jacket before he walked swiftly inside. He took a seat in front of the wide desk and nodded when Michael offered him something from the bar. He had a feeling he was going to need the Dutch courage.

Michael handed Dom a crystal glass of bourbon and sat down with another in a white leather chair. 'So what's this about?'

Dom shifted uncomfortably. 'I'm not sure I'm doing the right thing here, Michael.'

'Why don't you start at the beginning?' Michael suggested.

Dom was silent and then shook his head again. 'No. No. I've changed my mind. It doesn't matter.' He half-rose out of the chair.

'Dominic.'

The stern tone had Dom sitting back down.

Michael pinned him with a hard blue look. 'You're beginning to worry me. What is it?'

Dom fidgeted and took a gulp of the bourbon. 'I think I may…I might that is…need your help.' He muttered.

Michael tried unsuccessfully to hide the bubble of amusement that tugged at his lips and lit up his good eye.

Dom glared at him. 'This isn't funny, Michael.'

'I'm sorry.' Michael apologised. He waved his glass at Dom. 'Why don't you continue?'

'You have to promise not to tell String any of this.' Dom said.

Michael sobered abruptly. The older man was deeply loyal to Hawke, having raised him and Hawke's brother when their mother and father, Dom's best friend, had died. Dom was still very much a surrogate father to Hawke; whatever this was it was deadly serious. 'Go on.' He encouraged.

'I have to have your word, Michael,' Dom insisted, 'that you won't tell him.'

'You have it.' Michael stated sincerely.

Dom took another gulp of bourbon. 'You remember when I got kidnapped a while back?'

Michael arched an eyebrow and leaned back in the chair. 'I'm hardly likely to forget it.' Dom had been taken hostage by a hit man he'd helped Hawke's father, Alan, put in jail in the Sixties; a hit man responsible for the death of Hawke's grandfather.

'Sallis kidnapped me because he thought I knew where Alan, Hawke's father, was.' Dom summarised.

'Because he didn't believe the Hawkes were dead.' Michael added.

'Right.' Dom set the glass down and leaned forward. 'I've been going back over it in my head and I think he might be right.'

Michael frowned unsettled. 'Hawke's father and mother were lost at sea, Dominic. I've read the report from the coastguard myself.'

'Just hear me out, will ya?' Dom asked gesturing at the spy.

Michael nodded.

Dom sighed. 'You know Alan and I worked to get Sallis convicted of the murder of Alan's father?'

'Yes.'

'And that, Alan managed to get a confession from Sallis on tape by wearing a wire for the FBI, who were after the Cordelli family Sallis works for?'

'It was all in that old file you'd kept.' Michael pointed out.

'And you found out that after Alan and Jane, and the boys, were all meant to go into the witness protection scheme?' Dom continued.

Michael nodded again. 'Only there was the boat accident.'

'Well, that's just it, Michael.' Dom said. 'The set up for the family going into protective custody was going to be a boat accident.' He held up a hand to stop Michael interrupting again. 'Listen. Dawson, the FBI agent involved, told me at the time that they had originally planned that Alan would take the family out on the boat and meet with the FBI in the ocean. The FBI would scupper the boat and take the family off for a new life. The storm would hit and everyone would assume the family had been lost at sea in a tragic accident.'

'But the storm came early and it went wrong.' Michael pointed out. 'Hawke and his brother went overboard and his parents were lost looking for them.'

Dom swallowed. 'What if it only went partially wrong?'

Michael began to see where the older man was going but gestured for him to continue.

'What if,' Dom said, 'the boys went overboard but the FBI met up with Alan and Jane anyway?'

'The FBI continued with the original plan but with the boys being rescued and back in the public domain they couldn't join their parents?' Michael concluded.

Dom nodded. 'I know it's a long shot but I can't get the idea out of my head.'

Michael put the glass down and leaned forward studying the older man's unhappy expression. 'Dominic, do you really think this is likely? From what little I know, I would be surprised if Alan and Jane Hawke would have abandoned their sons like that.'

Dom met Michael's blue gaze evenly. 'What if the FBI lied to them? What if they were told the boys had drowned?'

'Damn.' Michael's soft word echoed in the tense silence of the office.

'It's just possible, Michael.' Dom said gesturing and reaching for his bourbon. 'That's why it's driving me nuts. I can't get the idea out of my head; what if they're alive?'

Michael stroked his moustache. The pilot was right. It was just possible that events had played out the way he had described; the bodies of Alan and Jane Hawke had never been recovered. 'And you haven't told Hawke any of this?' Michael checked.

Dom shook his head. 'I keep going over it and I can't do it to him, Michael. He has enough with trying to find Saint John and he's started to make his peace with the past.' He gave a huff of laughter. 'I can't ruin that with something that might be a goose chase. If I knew for certain…'

Michael sighed. 'Have you told anyone else this theory?'

'I confronted Dawson with it when he came to the hospital to see me.' Dom said.

'What did he say?' Michael asked.

'He wouldn't deny or confirm it.' Dom's dark eyes gleamed with anger. 'He told me to drop it, that if I or Hawke started nosing around all we'd do, if I was right, would be to lead Sallis and the Cordelli's to Alan and Jane.'

'He has a point.' Michael said.

'I know that Michael.' Dom retorted. 'Why do you think I'm here? String or I looking will be like waving a flag for the Cordelli's but you…'

'You want me to look for them.' Michael said. 'You want me to look for them and if I can verify that they are alive then you'll tell Hawke.'

'So you'll do it?' Dom asked hopefully.

Michael tapped his fingers on his desk.

'You're not going to do it,' stated Dom seeing the indecision on the other man's face.

'I haven't said no, Dominic.'

'You haven't exactly said yes either.' Dom replied sharply. 'Ah, this was a mistake.' He half-rose out of his chair again.

'Dominic, sit down.' Michael pointed at the chair. 'If I start, there may be a chance I'll tip off the Cordelli's or Sallis.' He said. 'Whilst it's less likely than you and Hawke, it is still a possibility. Do you really want me to take the risk?'

Dom slumped back in his chair. 'I hadn't thought of that. I guess I thought you'd be able to make some discreet enquiries, you know,' he gestured, 'behind the scenes kinda.'

'I could make some enquiries.' Michael allowed, 'but getting information about witness protection schemes is notoriously difficult, Dominic, and I don't think you've thought this through enough.'

'I've done nothing but think about this.' Dom's voice rose angrily.

'I'm not denying that but have you thought about what will happen if I do find out they are alive?' Michael asked calmly.

'Well, we'll tell String and then…'

'And then?' prompted Michael. 'And then Hawke will want to meet with them.'

'Wouldn't you?' Dom asked. 'They're his parents.'

'Of course I would.' Michael shot back. 'But I wouldn't be leading a hit man and a Mafia family with a grudge to my parents' doorstep.'

Dom subsided.

Michael sighed. 'Dawson might be right; it might be best to let sleeping dogs rest.'

'I've tried, Michael.' Dom said. 'I've done nothing these last few weeks but try and let this go but…' he met Michael's concerned blue gaze squarely, 'I can't.'

Michael nodded slowly. 'OK. I'll make some enquiries but it may take some time and I wouldn't get your hopes up.'

'Thanks, Michael.' Dom said. 'I appreciate it.' He got up.

'Actually there's something I want to discuss with you too.' Michael said.

Dom sat back down.

'In fact, I was just about to ask one of my aides to call you when I met you in the outer office.'

'Oh?' Dom said suspiciously at the charming tone that had entered Michael's voice.

'I need a lift to Mexico.' Michael said. 'In Airwolf.'

'Oh no.' Dom got to his feet. 'Not after the last time.' He put his cap back on. 'String'll kill me for sure if I take Airwolf on a mission with you whilst he's out of town again.'

Michael waited until Dom was almost at the door. 'It's to do with Saint John,' he called.

The older man halted; his hand was on the office door handle. His shoulders slumped and he turned back to Michael.

The spy brushed a finger over his moustache and smiled. He knew that would hook the other man.

A few short hours later, Michael ran his hand over the engineering console of the world's only mach capable helicopter and sighed in satisfaction. He had never regretted his decision to make a deal with Hawke when the pilot had refused to hand the helicopter back to the FIRM unless they found his MIA brother. Hawke, the best pilot he had ever worked with, would fly Airwolf on missions of national importance and the FIRM would find Saint John Hawke.

The older Hawke brother had gone down in a routine mission in 'Nam alongside Hawke. Hawke had made it out; Saint John had become a POW and had been listed MIA at the end of the war. A folder of information given to Michael the year before by the daughter of a deceased Army general had provided a better understanding of Saint John's fate; a Special Forces unit had rescued him from the Vietcong and Saint John had joined them. They had run covert incursions into enemy territory long after the war had ended, but in the late Seventies, the unit had been disbanded and Saint John discharged. He had apparently joined an intelligence agency doing the same kind of deep undercover missions.

Michael adjusted one of the systems. He was certain Saint John was working for a large intelligence agency called the Company; at the very least they knew where he was. The Company was going to merge with the FIRM in July by order of Congress in order to reduce the running costs of both operations. Michael knew that they could wait until they had access to the Company's systems to find the information on Saint John but he didn't want to wait especially as there was another consideration; Airwolf was developing artificial intelligence.

A few odd incidents had prompted the Airwolf team to have the helicopter tested and Karen Hansen, the helicopter's computer expert, had found that the machine was executing a self-preservation code. There wasn't anything particularly unusual in that; what was unusual was that Airwolf had rewritten the original code. She had removed Moffett as her chosen pilot and included her current flight team. She had saved their lives using the code a number of times already. Most recently, she had been pivotal in saving Hawke's wife, Caitlin, from a murdering rapist.

Michael was determined, along with the rest of the team, that the Company didn't get their hands on the original Airwolf. They were building a fake Airwolf to handover to them and they were only able to do that because Michael was working on building a next generation of the Airwolf helicopter design. He allowed a small smile. The project was actually going well. They would have the fake Airwolf ready to test very shortly. What they still hadn't quite worked out was how they handed the fake one to the Company and what they did with the original if the Company decided to honour Hawke's deal. Michael sighed. If he could find Saint John, they could simply hand the fake Airwolf over and Hawke could keep the real one under wraps somewhere whilst the pilot helped Michael complete the new, improved version.

'Are you humming?' Dom demanded.

'Hmmm?' Michael cleared his throat hurriedly. 'Of course I'm not humming.'

'It sounded to me like you were humming.' Dom said.

'I was thinking.' Michael said defensively.

'Hmnph.' Dom shifted in the pilot's seat of Airwolf and checked his course. 'So we're going to see Larry Mason right?'

'Right.' Michael said.

'And that's it?' Dom checked. 'No other little surprises?'

'None.' Michael said firmly. 'Like I told you; Larry's been looking through the intelligence databases for me trying to find something about Saint John. He called me and told me he'd found something. We're going to pick it up. That's it.'

'Well, you can't blame me for checking.' Dom pointed out. 'The last time you asked me to do a simple pick up, we ended up in a radar and radio black zone in the middle of an earthquake.'

'The earthquake wasn't exactly my fault, Dominic.' Michael replied. He surreptitiously tapped in a scan of the location they were headed towards checking for seismic activity; it never hurt to be careful.

'How's Marella doing?' Dom asked. A few week's before, Michael's former senior aide had been badly injured saving the spy's life and had returned to her home in Maui to recuperate.

'She's doing very well.' Michael found he was smiling and was grateful that Dom's position meant that the other man wouldn't see it. The whole incident had prompted Michael to take his relationship with Marella to a more personal level and they spoke on the phone every day. When she returned to LA, they were going on their first date and Michael was looking forward to it. 'She should be back in a couple more weeks.'

'That's great news.' Dom said happily. He was fond of the Hawaiian agent.

'She wanted to come back when she heard what had happened with Caitlin.' Michael commented.

'They've turned into pretty good friends those two.' Dom commented absently. He wondered at the friendship between Marella and Caitlin at times but then he guessed it wasn't any stranger than the friendship between Hawke and Michael.

'How is Caitlin?' Michael asked. The attempted rape had shaken the redheaded female pilot and Michael knew Hawke was concerned about his wife.

'She's doing better.' Dom said. 'I think it just shook her up that she couldn't defend herself.'

'She was damned lucky Airwolf intervened.' Michael said.

'Yeah, I think she knows it too.' Dom said with a brief glance over his shoulder.

Michael nodded. 'Have you talked to them recently?' He had a feeling that the couple's holiday was more to regain their balance than to celebrate the two-month anniversary of their wedding.

'I talked to String yesterday.' Dom replied. 'They're planning to spend another day alone.'

'Where have they gone anyway?' Michael asked.

'That would be telling.' Dom muttered. In truth, he knew the couple were still at their home, the mountain cabin by the lake that Hawke had inherited from his grandfather.

'They've settled into marriage really well.' Michael said. 'They seem very happy.'

'Yeah.' Dom smiled. 'They're handling things together, that's the important thing.'

Michael considered his next question and mischievously decided to ask it. 'Any news on the baby front?'

'Hawke told you?' Dom turned around surprised.

'Well?' Michael asked not answering the question.

Dom returned his gaze to the sky in front. 'No news.' He gave a small laugh. 'I think they're beginning to realise that these things don't happen straight away.'

Michael smiled and stroked his moustache. So, he thought, he was right; the couple were trying to start their family.

'Talking of families,' Dom began interrupting Michael's musing, 'how's Angelina?'

Michael smiled at the mention of his ten year old daughter. He'd only discovered her existence the year before and had immediately retrieved her from Russia. He'd turned into a doting father and he happily admitted the incredibly smart and pretty blond girl could twist him around her little finger. Dom had seemingly adopted her as one of his own brood when he'd laid eyes on her too. 'Angelina's great. She's enjoying school.'

'She still in love with Brownie?' Dom asked.

Michael had succumbed to Angelina's request for a dog at Christmas. 'Yes. He's been good for her.' The chocolate Lab had helped settle his daughter into her new home. He bit his lip. He had to admit that his one of his concerns about his relationship with Marella was the effect it would have on Angelina. His daughter liked Marella but he wondered if that would change when Angelina realised his relationship with Marella might one day include his former aide being part of their family.

'You should bring Angelina over more often.' Dom nagged.

'The last time I brought her over; she came back wanting flying lessons.' Michael noted wryly.

'Hawke was twelve when I taught him; Saint John the same.' Dom grinned. 'Jo, now; she took a little more encouraging. I think she was fourteen when she decided she wanted to learn.'

Michael shifted uneasily at the mention of Dom's niece. The small, blond pilot was moving back to LA to be closer to her uncle but Michael had discovered she was working as a freelance operative for the Company. Hawke had told Michael that he had informed Dom and that they had agreed Hawke would confront Jo when she returned to make the arrangements in June; they would sort it out from there. Michael sighed. He'd given his word to Hawke not to interfere and he wouldn't. He frowned.

'We're coming up on the location now.' Dom said.

'You sure this friend of yours is trustworthy?' Michael asked.

'I'm going to forget you asked me that.' Dom muttered. 'Prepare to disengage turbos and bring the rotors back online.'

Michael concentrated on the system changes and by the time he had the space to remember his original question, they were landing and taxiing into a wide hangar. An ancient helicopter stood to one side alongside a Jet Ranger in purple and orange colours.

Dom broke into a grin seeing the large African-American woman walking towards them. He removed his helmet and climbed out to hug her.

'Queenie.' His dark eyes roamed over her happily as he took a step back. There was more grey in the jet black hair but her skin remained a perfect smooth ebony; her eyes the colour of bitter chocolate. A lifetime ago they had been lovers before they had settled into a comfortable friendship. 'Ah, it's good to see you.'

'Hello you old reprobate.' Queenie grinned at him and patted his arms. 'It's good to see you too.' She released him completely and admired the sleek lines of Airwolf. She gave a silent appreciative whistle. 'This is a stunning aircraft.' She touched the shiny hull almost reverently. 'Fast too, right?'

Dom smiled. 'Right.'

'I bet I could do all my medical visits a helluva lot quicker in this machine than that old tin can.' She jerked her head at the museum piece.

'Yeah but would you have so much fun?' Dom said laughing.

Michael cleared his throat from the other side of the helicopter. Dom gestured at him. 'Queenie, Michael. Michael, Queenie.'

'A pleasure.' Michael said taking the hand Queenie offered him.

'Likewise.' Queenie gave him a wide grin.

'Have you got everything arranged?' Dom asked.

'Of course. There's a jeep waiting outside for you along with a map. You should get to El Hafo in about an hour if you keep to the main roads.' Queenie said and gestured in the direction of the now closed hangar door.

'Great.' Dom said. 'You have somewhere we could change?'

'Office is just back through that door.' Queenie said pointing.

'Thanks, Queenie.' Dom reached into Airwolf and pulled out two back-packs. He handed one to Michael and kept the other.

'You don't have time to catch up?' Queenie asked.

'Not this time. Maybe on the way back.' Dom gave her an apologetic hug before he and Michael made their way to the office.

Queenie was right about the distance to El Hafo. It took them just under an hour and they found Larry's beach bar easily enough. The dark wooden hut had a straw roof and seemed to be doing good business. Michael and Dom took seats at the bar and waited. Larry finished serving his last customer and walked over to greet them eagerly.

Dom gave him a wide gap-toothed grin as he shook hands with the former FIRM man. Larry hadn't changed a bit. He was a small man but had a trim figure. He still had a full head of white hair and a salt and pepper beard. His blue eyes were twinkling with delight.

'Fellas.' Larry smiled. 'It's good to see you.' His eyes widened as he took in the brightly coloured beach shirt Michael was wearing over his white pants. 'That's a new look, Archangel.'

Michael pushed his glasses up his nose and rapped his cane against the bar. 'I'm incognito.'

'I had to tell him that a white suit wasn't appropriate beach wear.' Dom said shaking his head sadly.

'So, no Hawke?' Larry asked.

'Nah.' Dom gestured. 'He and Cait are out of town.'

Larry's eyes dimmed a little in disappointment. He'd hoped to be able to give the news to Hawke himself personally; he owed the other man his life. 'Come through to the back, fellas.' He lifted a section of the bar and they made their way through to Larry's inner sanctum whilst he closed the bar up.

Larry opened his office door and ushered them inside. Michael and Dom took one step and froze. The office was a startling contrast to the simple wooden structure out front; one wall was occupied with three computers and the other had floor to ceiling shelving over-flowing with documents and books. Larry hastily shifted stacks of material from two of the chairs and invited his guests to sit. He went over to a small refrigerator and pulled out three chilled beers. He unscrewed the tops and handed them out.

'What have you got, Larry?' Michael asked.

'As you know I've been looking through the intelligence databases, specifically those used by the Company, for any record of Saint John Hawke or the type of mission he was supposed to be involved with.' Larry began.

Michael brushed a finger across his moustache and gestured impatiently. 'You said you found something.'

Larry nodded. 'I was inside a database used by the CIA and the Company when I came across this.' He snagged a folder from the pile by one of the computers. He handed it to Michael.

Michael put down the beer and opened the file. There was a single item; a photo. It was blurred and fuzzy. He peered at it closely. There were two men in army fatigues being held in a makeshift prison cell; both were staring in the direction of the camera.

Michael handed the photo to Dom. 'What do you think?'

Dom stared at it and sighed. 'It could be him. It could be Saint John.' He shook his head. 'I can't say for sure.'

'I'm certain it is.' Larry said.

'Why?' Michael asked.

'Because his name was mentioned in the report that went with that picture.' Larry said.

Michael looked back at the folder. 'So where's the report?'

Larry sighed and a blush warmed his cheeks. 'I had to load a special paper for the photo and whilst I was reloading the printer to do the report someone removed both the photo and the report. When I went to print it just wasn't there anymore'

'Someone removed it?' Michael's gaze sharpened on the former information gatherer.

'Removed it.' Larry confirmed. 'From what I can see, someone has been going through the computer files and systematically removing anything to do with Hawke's brother.'

'How do you know that?' Dom asked.

'Because I should have been able to come up more than just a photograph.' Larry said. 'I should have been able to at least access the information on Saint John prior to any intelligence work and all of it has gone. The lack of information, just basic information, gives it away.'

'Why?' Dom asked. 'Why would someone do that?'

'To prevent us from finding Saint John Hawke.' Michael murmured.

'I don't get it.' Dom said perplexed. 'If the Company wants Airwolf, wouldn't they want us to find Saint John?'

'Not necessarily.' Michael answered. 'Not if they intend to use Hawke for Airwolf missions and not honour the deal.'

'You mean they'd say they were looking for Saint John but wouldn't?' Dom checked.

Michael nodded. 'And they would be able to point to the lack of evidence as the reason why they hadn't gotten very far.'

'Why those dirty…' Dom bit off the swear word. 'I'd like to get my hands on them.' He shook his fist angrily.

'Do you remember what was in the report?' Michael asked Larry.

Larry nodded and grabbed a second file. 'I wrote up as much as I could remember.'

Michael took the file and began to read through Larry's meticulously written up report.

'Well?' Dom demanded after the first few minutes had passed in silence.

'He's in Cambodia and a prisoner of the Khmer Rouge?' Michael asked Larry.

Larry gestured with his bottle. 'Was, certainly. As far as I could make out that report was submitted last year but I can't recall when exactly.'

'God.' Dom looked down at the photo. If Saint John had been kept prisoner all that time…the Cambodian regime under the Khmer Rouge had been responsible for the deaths of thousands of their own citizens…American spies wouldn't be regarded with any mercy at all.

'All the indications in the report were that they'd been held for some time and there was no indication that the Khmer Rouge intended to do anything more than hold them as political prisoners of war.' Larry said.

'So they could still be out there?' Dom asked.

'Maybe.' Michael said. 'It's SOP to leave operatives behind if they get caught.'

'There was no mention of a rescue attempt in the report that I read.' Larry concurred.

'But that doesn't mean one didn't happen or one wasn't planned to.' Michael sighed.

'I know it's not a lot…' Larry said sadly.

'No,' Michael attempted a smile, 'but it's more than we've had for a while.'

'Michael's right.' Dom said. 'At least this gives us something to go on.'

'I wish it could have been more.' Larry said.

'By the sound of it, we're lucky to have this.' Michael noted. 'Thanks for your help.'

He stood to leave and Dom did the same. They shook hands with Larry and made their goodbyes.

'I'll keep looking.' Larry said as he walked them to their jeep. 'Once the FIRM integrates with the Company system I might be able to find more. They might delete it but I can always get it back.'

'I'm not going to ask how.' Michael said dryly throwing his cane into the passenger seat and climbing in. 'I have a feeling I'd have to arrest you.'