Saint John collapsed onto the sofa and tipped the bottle back to finish the beer. His flat wasn't the biggest of places but it was cosy enough with some of his grandfather's art hanging on the walls. The team had spent the evening together celebrating their survival from Yahara's attack.

'Jo get off OK?' Mike asked.

Saint John nodded. He'd just seen her into a taxi. Locke had left hours ago claiming he had to get back to the office. Mike didn't have another home to go to; the young pilot was sharing Saint John's flat, a situation that was surprisingly quite a good arrangement, Saint John thought. He and Rivers were becoming good friends beyond the team camaraderie and their flying partnership in Airwolf.

Mike tipped his beer bottle. 'How about one more?'

'Sounds good to me.' Saint John threw a cushion at the curly blond-haired pilot. 'Your turn to get them.'

Mike threw the cushion back and got to his feet. Saint John lay back against the sofa cushions and listened to the sound of the fridge opening, the clinking of the beer bottles. He took the bottle Mike handed him and waited until the pilot was sat back down with the other one before raising it in a toast.

'Cheers.' Saint John said.

Mike clinked the neck of his bottle against Saint John's. 'Cheers.'

They drank in a comfortable silence for a while.

'You know that was some pretty fancy flying against Yahara.' Mike commented.

Saint John took a gulp of beer. He felt a little uncomfortable taking credit for the dogfight. 'We all have our moments.' He said.

'Wasn't your usual style.' Mike pointed out.

'Maybe I was inspired.' Saint John said flippantly.

'Maybe.' Mike took a gulp of his drink. 'It reminded me of your brother.'

'You saw String fly?' Saint John was surprised into looking at him.

'I saw some of the old mission footage of Airwolf when he flew her.' Mike admitted.

'Right.' Saint John murmured.

Mike fingered his beer bottle. 'He's alive isn't he?'

'Mike…' Saint John stilled dangerously.

The major held up a hand. 'You've never actually said your brother was dead; we all just assumed it.'

Saint John ignored the urge to confide in the younger man. 'The subject of my brother is off limits, Mike.'

'Saint John…'

'I mean it, Mike.' Saint John got to his feet with the intention of going to bed.

'I won't tell anyone, Saint John.' Mike rose from his seat and caught the older man's eyes. 'Anyone. I get that you're protecting him. I just want to know the truth.'

They stared at each other for a long tense moment.

'I want your word, Mike. You tell no-one what we're about to discuss, including Jo and Jason.' Saint John demanded.

'You have it.' Mike readily agreed, wondering if he was going to regret making the promise.

Saint John gestured at him to sit and sat back down himself. 'You're right. String is alive and he was flying against Yahara. I'd asked him to back me up and he did.'

'Wow.' Mike gulped down some beer. It had been an intuitive guess but to be proved right was astounding; the implications were mind-boggling. He tried to gather his thoughts. 'He's an incredible pilot.'

'Yeah. He is.' Saint John looked at the beer bottle. 'He always was. I'm a good pilot but my brother?' He shook his head. 'He's the most naturally talented pilot I know.'

Mike felt his own ego stir but he couldn't argue. He'd been in awe of Stringfellow Hawke ever since he'd seen the mission footage and when he'd believed the pilot was dead, he had regretted that he'd never had the opportunity to meet with him or fly with him.

'Why keep him a secret though?' Mike asked perplexed.

'Like you said protection.' Saint John said succinctly. 'When I first got back, I didn't know who to trust; all I did know was that he was badly injured, dying and I had to make sure he was safe so he could recover and until a couple of weeks ago, we thought whoever had killed Dom was still out there and might try for String too. It made sense to foster the illusion that he was dead.'

'But they're not out there now?'

'They went after String anyway and ended up dead.' Saint John said simply. He sighed heavily. 'Since then I've thought about telling you guys. I trust you but it's really String's decision.'

'And he doesn't trust us.' Mike stated. 'Not even Jo?'

'He and Jo drifted apart as adults. They'd only just started to get to know each other again and he was, is, very wary about her involvement with the Company.' Saint John shrugged. 'I was the same when I got back. I wanted to trust Jo but I couldn't risk String's life on the basis of a childhood friendship.' He gestured with the bottle. 'String doesn't know you at all and he doesn't trust that Jason won't follow the Company line. I get the impression Jason didn't exactly make a great impression when String met him. Hell, even I'm not sure Locke wouldn't report String's being alive back to the Company.'

'I understand,' Mike said, 'I might not like it but I understand. I'm not sure Jo will though. She's going to be incredibly hurt.'

'I know.' Saint John sighed. 'I've tried convincing him to tell her at least.'

'You should talk to him about telling all of us.' Mike said. 'He may not know and trust us but you keeping this secret from the team is going to cause major issues and the longer you leave coming clean with everyone the more major it's going to seem.' There had already been an incident in the team that had shown them how fragile the trust between them was and how easily it could be eroded if they weren't straight with each other.

'It's not that simple.' Saint John argued.

'Why not?'

Saint John sighed and wondered whether to reveal the rest of the secret; Caitlin and his nephew. 'It's his decision.' He repeated. 'But I'll talk to him.'

'What aren't you telling me?' Mike asked.

'Something which isn't for me to tell.' Saint John replied evenly.

Mike nodded and raised his beer bottle in a salute.

Saint John settled back against the cushions again. It was a relief to have told someone and he trusted Mike to keep his word.

'You don't talk about your brother very much.' Mike said suddenly.

'I was pretending he was dead,' Saint John explained, 'I was afraid if I talked about him I'd slip up.'

'It must be pretty weird for you both, getting to know each other after all this time.' Mike commented.

'That's one way of putting it.' Saint John said with a smile. He shrugged under Mike's scrutiny. 'As unintentional as it was, I put my brother through sixteen years of hell. It's not easy getting past that for either of us.' He admitted taking another gulp of beer.

Mike nodded. Hawke's search for his brother had been well documented in the Airwolf file. 'You weren't to know.'

'There's no excuse, Mike.' Saint John said. 'I had plenty of opportunities when I was between missions to contact him but I didn't.'

'Why not?' Mike asked.

'For reasons that don't seem all that important anymore.' Saint John said.

'He's giving you a hard time?'

'Actually, no.' Saint John shook his head. 'He's been great, considering. Backed me up on the Yahara thing without any question.' He sighed. 'We're working through it.'

'If you ever want to talk about it…'

'Thanks, Mike.' Saint John set his empty bottle on the coffee table and stood up. 'I'm going to turn in. Night.'

'Night.' Mike watched the other man head to bed worriedly; Saint John's secret could blow the team apart.

Saint John didn't have a chance to head up to the cabin for his discussion with his brother the next day; he and Mike received an urgent priority call from Locke and headed out to the Lair. Both Jo and Locke were bent over the computer terminals at the console.

'What's going on?' Mike asked jumping over the yellow rail. Saint John rolled his eyes and took the more sedate route up the ramp.

'We have a mission and it's going to be a difficult one.' Locke sighed and turned to face them. The African-American agent gestured at the video screen. 'The Company received this yesterday evening.' He punched a button and a recording started to play on the video-screen. It was secretly taped footage of a hospital. They watched silently as the film played out, down a corridor and into a room. The camera focused on the occupant of the bed; a man. His hair was completely gone from his head and the skin on his face had the smooth shininess of someone who had been badly burned. The man's large eyes stared coldly back at them. Locke paused the film.

'Who is he?' Saint John asked a shiver running down his spine at the frozen image.

'We think it's Charles Henry Moffett.' Locke said rubbing a finger over his neat black moustache.

'Airwolf's designer?' Saint John checked.

'You have to be kidding.' Mike stated. 'Wasn't he killed in Libya?'

'Presumed killed in Libya.' Locke corrected, his dark eyes deadly serious. 'I've been back over the original file. Stringfellow Hawke reported that Moffett was killed but no follow up was ever done; no body recovered.'

'If my brother said he killed him, he killed him.' Saint John said.

'Saint John's right. String wouldn't have lied about it; he hated Moffett.' Jo said backing him up. Her blond bob swung around her serious face.

'What if Hawke thought he'd killed him but actually Moffett survived somehow?' Locke asked. 'There's no detail on exactly how he did it or if he checked the man was dead.'

Saint John shuffled uneasily and avoided Mike's eyes.

'We've been trying to track down the original Airwolf liaison.' Locke added.

'Archangel?' Mike asked. 'Isn't he in deep cover assignment in the Far East?'

'It would seem that there's some confusion about that.' Jo remarked folding her arms. 'We're beginning to think it was a cover story.'

Saint John shifted uncomfortably again.

'Our request to speak to him has gone right to the top of the Company.' Locke noted. 'Whatever he's involved with has a top level security clearance.'

'Why do we need to speak with him?' Saint John asked. 'I take it the mission is to go and get this guy whoever he is?' He gestured at the man on the screen.

'If this Moffett I don't want us going in blind.' Locke argued. 'This could be an attempt by him to get his hands back on Airwolf.' He sighed and threw his pen on the work surface. 'With your brother and Dominic Santini no longer with us, Archangel is the only one left who could probably help us.'

Saint John sighed. 'I need to make a call.' He muttered and headed to Airwolf. It looked as though Mike was going to get his wish after all; he was going to have to tell them about his brother. There was no other option.