Hawke put the satellite phone down. 'Damn.'

'You still can't find Saint John?' Caitlin asked, adjusting her blouse back into position and lifting her son to burp him. Hawke had grown steadily more concerned as time had passed without any word from his older brother.

'No. It's been almost three hours since he headed for that guy's office.' Hawke said, coming to sit on the arm of the sofa next to where she was sat in an easy chair. 'I just called Santini Air.' He admitted quietly.

Her eyebrows shot up. That had been a hell of a risk to take. 'And?'

'The guy – I think it must be Rivers – said Saint John was unavailable but he was hiding something.' Hawke stroked his son's cheek gently. 'I think I should go and find out what's happening.'

'You mean go to the air field?' Caitlin checked surprised.

Hawke nodded slowly.

Her concerned blue-green eyes searched his. 'Are you up to that?'

'I'll have to be.' Hawke stated.

Caitlin sighed. 'I can come with you. I'll just get Nicky into some outdoor…'

'No.' Hawke shook his head. 'If something is going on, you and Nicky should stay out of it.' Her eyes flashed and he laid a finger on her lips to stop her from arguing. 'You know I'm right.'

Caitlin subsided huffily. 'Doesn't mean I have to like it.'

Hawke's lips twitched.

'You'd better go.' She said patting Nicky's back gently.

'You sure?' Hawke asked.

She nodded. 'Go. Just don't get yourself killed.'

'You're the best wife ever.' Hawke said.

'Yeah. Yeah.' She said smiling.

Hawke kissed her and gently dropped another kiss on Nicky's head before he left. He took his bike. His stomach was churning uneasily as he headed for Van Nuys airfield. He hadn't been back since the explosion. The journey was heartbreakingly familiar and he made good time. He pulled into the airfield's car park. He took a deep breath and used his knowledge of the airfield's comings and goings to avoid the main thoroughfare. He crept up on Santini Air and crouched behind a chopper, removing his sunglasses to get a better look.

An old Japanese war-plane was stood outside the hangar, an elderly man in a flight suit paced in front of it. Voices drifted over to him…

'If that is who I think it is, he's got some nerve.' Hawke remembered Jason Locke's voice from their one brief meeting. He watched as two men walked over to stand in front of Yahara. He recognised Locke; the African-American with his neatly cropped black hair and moustache. The other guy, young with wavy blonde locks and a boyish face was a stranger to him; Major Mike Rivers, Hawke surmised.

'Takeshi Yahara?' Rivers asked.

'First Lieutenant Yahara Takeshi.' So this was the guy Saint John suspected had Jo; the one who likely now had both of them, Hawke thought, shifting to get a better view. Yahara was continuing to talk asking Locke if he'd been the one to organise the fighter screen over Chimunga.

'That's correct, Yahara.' Locke drew his gun. Hawke rolled his eyes; typical agent behaviour, he thought scathingly. 'And now you're going to answer some of my questions.'

A car pulled up and Hawke ducked down before peeking out again. Two Japanese men got out with guns.

Rivers quietly murmured Locke's name to bring them to his attention.

'Alright.' Locke said. 'Let's go over and collect your friends.' Hawke had to give it to Locke; he wasn't easily intimidated.

'It will be the other way around, I think.' Yahara noted.

'Cut the crap, Yahara. Move. Or I'll drop you right here.'

'What the hell are you doing, Locke?' Hawke muttered. The agent was going to get himself killed or worse Saint John and Jo.

'Ask yourself a serious question, Mr Locke.' Yahara said responding to Locke's threat. 'To come here like this, either I am mad or in complete control of the situation. Do I strike you as mad?'

Hawke figured Yahara was a bit of both.

'Where are Saint John and Jo?' Rivers asked quietly. Hawke's opinion of the young pilot rose; here was someone who had their priorities straight.

Yahara took something out of his pocket and showed it to Rivers and Locke. 'Alive. That however will not be the case if a call is not made from the telephone in that car in a very few minutes.'

'And you will die first.' Locke said tightening his grip on his gun.

'That is of no consequence to me. You must know that. Pull the trigger Mr Locke or give me the gun.' Yahara demanded.

Locke handed over the weapon. Hawke sighed; he couldn't blame the agent. The two men had been well boxed in.

'My men will take you to your friends. I will join you shortly.' Yahara said.

Locke and Rivers started to walk over to the car.

'Got any bright ideas?' Locke asked Rivers.

'No. This guy scares the hell out of me.' Rivers answered.

Hawke was inclined to agree with him. He scuttled back out of sight and ran for his bike. He followed the car at a safe distance and kept a look out for Yahara who was flying overhead. He stopped and watched as they turned into a driveway and pushed Locke and Rivers into the house. No doubt that was where his brother and Jo were being held too. Hawke considered his options. He needed something to balance the scales of Yahara's control, he needed…Airwolf. He fired the engine on the bike and did a u-turn heading back down the road.

Hawke broke some speed limits on the way to the Lair but it didn't bother him; he had no idea how long he had and he wasn't taking any chances. He didn't even think about the fact that this would be his first flight in Airwolf since he'd been injured. He stowed the bike outside the Lair and entered at a run. He punched in the security code, giving thanks that it had never occurred to the new Airwolf team to change it. He turned and froze.

The black and white machine stood in a shaft of natural light. Her wheels were dusty and her armour gleamed dully. Light glinted off the steel rotors and her tail. She looked just like always. Awesome. Hawke swallowed hard. Memories crowded in on him as he walked up to her, his dim awareness of the Lair fading as the memories grew stronger and more insistent.

'Now if that don't warm your heart, I don't know what will.' Dominic Santini's voice echoed in his head. Hawke put a trembling hand on the nose armour and bowed his head.

'Ah she missed us String.'

'She's a machine, Dom.'

'Aw, don't you listen to him baby.'

The hiss of hydraulics brought Hawke back to himself. He stroked the armour lovingly.

'Yeah. I miss him too.' He murmured. He shook himself free of the memories and climbed in. He started the engines and as she powered up, he put the heavy helmet on. He checked the systems were ready and took a deep breath before he clasped the controls and took her up. He frowned. Her balance was off; he was about to correct for it when it corrected itself.

Hawke's eyes narrowed. 'I sure hope that's you Airwolf.' He muttered under his breath. Caitlin had told him about the ability of the intelligence to transfer herself back into the old machine and truthfully he was pleased with the assist. The helicopter had felt sluggish without her. He checked the turbos were online and hit the button to send them shooting forward. Sheer exhilaration sang through his blood as Airwolf clicked right back into the place in his soul reserved for her. He looped her around and adjusted their course heading back for Yahara's base.

He wished fervently that he had either Dom or Caitlin working the engineer's console as he neared the house. He ignored the plane coming up on the monitor in front of him; they could deal with Yahara's plan for the nuclear station after he'd made sure Saint John and Jo were fine. He frowned.

There was a bike heading away from the house.

Hawke swung around. The biker spotted him and careened to a halt, almost overturning on the road. He waved at Airwolf. Hawke lowered the helicopter and breathed a sigh of relief. It was Saint John. He landed to pick him up.

'Head after the plane.' Saint John instructed as he climbed in. 'The others are safe enough.'

Hawke didn't wait for Saint John to get comfortable but immediately took off again. His brother grabbed at the front console; he'd never been in an Airwolf take-off that fast.

Saint John stared at his little brother. 'Maybe I ought to fly.'

Hawke grinned. 'It's good to see you too, Saint John.'

Saint John swallowed hard. There was something between the machine and his brother; Airwolf was responding to String's flying in a way that she had never responded to anyone else including himself. He concentrated on their task. He hit some buttons hoping to patch into the radio connection between Yahara and the house.

'What's going on?' Hawke asked. They'd catch up to the plane any moment; he planned to cut Yahara off, coming up in front of him.

'Yahara's going to dive kamikaze style into the nuclear base. We have to stop him. He has Jo and the others watching him on a view-screen back at his house.'

'Are you sure they're safe?' Hawke asked.

'Yeah. I took out the three guards personally.' Saint John said. 'I'm patching his audio link to that screen through Airwolf's systems. Don't worry, we'll be able to hear them, they won't be able to hear us.'

'We've got to alert the base.' Locke's voice came through the audio system.

'Even if you got free now, Mr Locke, the telephone lines have been cut. You could not reach them in time.' Yahara replied. 'Do not mourn the loss of your friend. There is only innocence in death and a resolve to die. Five miles to target, my friends.'

'He was planning to kill you?' Hawke asked.

'I'm sure the others think he did.' Saint John said.

Hawke raised an eyebrow but made no other comment. He rose up in front of Yahara's plane.

'That's impossible.' Jo's voice sounded over the patched in connection.

'They must be seeing Airwolf on the screen now.' Saint John noted.

'Who the hell is flying that thing?' Rivers sounded deeply disturbed.

'They think I'm dead.' Saint John reminded Hawke when he shifted nervously.

'What is this?' Yahara was astounded at the sight of the helicopter.

'You'd better talk.' Hawke said.

Saint John hit the button. 'Yahara, you've got ten seconds to reverse your course.'

'Saint John.' Jo's voice was filled with overjoyed relief.

'I see my men have betrayed me.' Yahara said.

'No, Yahara. They were true to the end.' Saint John said sadly. It was the truth. All the guards had exhibited a strange loyalty to the older man.

'I will have to finish this myself.' Yahara said angrily.

Saint John cut the connection. 'He's lining up.'

'Yeah.' Hawke climbed out of firing range as guns flashed from the plane's wings.

'Goodbye, Mr Hawke.' Yahara's madness tinged his farewell.

Hawke looped back round to face the plane. 'He really has something against you.'

'No, against Dad.' Saint John caught Hawke's stare. 'I'll explain later. He's got two missiles off at us. Short range and closing.'

'Sunbursts.' Hawke ordered. 'Deploy either side.'

Saint John complied. 'Are you sure? We're…'

Hawke boosted the speed with the turbos and dived past the sunbursts. The first missile narrowly missed them and hit a sunburst; the second missile went the same way. He swung back round to face the plane.

Saint John let out a shaky breath. 'I believe that was your last missile, Yahara.' He radioed the elderly Japanese pilot.

'Wrong, Hawke. I'm flying the last one. At this range even if you hit me, the explosion will finish us both.' Yahara said furiously.

'I wouldn't count on it, Yahara.' Saint John cut the connection again. 'Can I keep that promise?'

'Deploy weapons. Give me sequential firing on missiles.' Hawke instructed.

'String, at this range, we'll be blown apart.' Saint John commented even as he set it up.

'Airwolf'll stand up.' Hawke said. 'She always does. Visors down.' He lowered his own visor which clicked into place.

Saint John followed his brother. Hawke fired. The missiles shot out of the cannons one after another. The first missed simply flashing past the plane but the second and third hit squarely. Airwolf shook around them at the blast. Hawke flinched at the ball of fire and smoke bellowing up in front of him, flashing back to the moment he'd lost Dom in front of the Santini Air hangar.

'Oh God.' Jo's upset travelled through the air and brought Hawke back to the present. He took a deep breath and steadied Airwolf.

'Could Airwolf survive at that range?' They heard Locke ask as Hawke turned away from the falling debris.

Saint John grinned at his brother and reconnected to the house. 'Hang tight, guys. I'm on my way.' He disconnected them again.

Hawke sighed. 'You'd better drop me off.'

'Where?' Saint John asked.

'How about at that bike where I picked you up? I can use it to get home.' Hawke suggested. 'You can pretend my bike at the Lair is the one you took and you can bring it back to me the next time you come up.'

'Sounds good to me.' Saint John smiled as they landed. He got out first and jogged to the overturned motorbike to right it ready for Hawke.

Hawke ran a hand over the console. God but he loved the Lady. The new Airwolf was almost identical and would soon be flight-ready but this machine was the original. He looked about him an unbearable sadness filling his chest. This helicopter, this collection of metal, bolts and wiring, had been a constant in his life for so long. He thought he had missed her when he'd been recuperating but now…he squeezed his eyes shut as memories rushed in on him. His first ever flight with her; finding her in Libya; teaching Dom; their rescue of Cait and a thousand other missions in between and since. Hawke swiped a hand over his face until his vision was clear. He opened the aircraft's door and stepped out. He closed it firmly and gave Airwolf's nose a pat goodbye.

He walked over to his brother.

Saint John hugged him. 'Thanks for the back-up.'

'Any time.' Hawke said patted his shoulder and swung a leg over the bike.

Saint John nodded. 'I'll be in touch.'

'You'd better.' Hawke said firing the engine. 'I want to know what Yahara had against Dad.'

Saint John sighed. He waved as Hawke roared away before he headed back to Airwolf. He had some friends to go and rescue.