Jason Locke looked up at the house in front of him and wondered briefly whether everything in Michael Coldsmith-Briggs's world was white. He looked around curiously. There was no doubt the beach house was beautiful. It was set on the cliff edge, its pale white walls a stunning contrast with the blue sky and aquamarine sea in the distance. He rang the doorbell and waited. When he had asked for a meeting with his predecessor on the Airwolf file he had been expecting the location to be the Company headquarters or the man's new offices wherever they were; he hadn't expected an invitation to his home.

He got his second surprise when Michael himself opened the door; he had expected a maid.

'Archangel.' Locke said formally. His dark eyes glanced off Michael's informal attire of a checked shirt and chinos, and widened.

Michael smiled at the other agent. Locke was immaculately turned out; his dark suit pressed, his white shirt crisp, the tie subdued but obviously silk, and shoes that gleamed with polish. His black, wiry hair was neatly trimmed as was the matching moustache. He took in the other man's bemused expression as he invited him into the house and decided against explaining that he dropped the all-white uniform in his own home for Angelina to have some normality.

'Can I offer you anything?' Michael asked. 'Tea, coffee?'

'Coffee would be good.' Locke said following the other man through to a sunny kitchen.

Michael rested his cane against the counter and took out a couple of mugs. He poured the coffee and offered Locke one. 'Milk, sugar?'

'Black's fine.' Locke said taking the coffee. 'Thank you.'

'We'll use my study.' Michael said pointing in the direction of the corridor with his cane.

Locke let him lead the way again and glanced around the opposing room. It was large with floor to ceiling bookshelves stacked high with beautifully bound books. There were two large green leather sofas in front of an ornate fireplace and the large coffee table between the sofas had a chess board set out ready for a game. A matching leather green chair sat in front of a mahogany desk which was stacked high with open files. A white leather chair on the other side was in front of open French doors that led to a small balcony which overlooked the Pacific Ocean. Locke could smell the sea. He was surprised again when Michael avoided the desk and led the way to the sofas. When Michael sat on one; Locke sank into a seat opposite.

'Do you play?' Michael asked seeing the other man glance at the chess game.

'Not for a long time.' Locke said.

'So why the meeting?' Michael asked leaning back against the leather cushions, his one good eye scanning over the other man with the experience of a skilled operative.

'Straight to business. I can do that.' Locke set his mug down on a coaster. He clasped his hands in front of him. 'Saint John told me that Hawke intended to talk to you about the possibility of their parents being alive. Has he done that yet?'

'Yes. A couple of nights ago.' Michael answered. He took a sip of his drink.

'What do you think?' Locke said.

'Of what exactly?' Michael asked calmly. 'The idea that their parents may still be alive or the idea of finding them?'

'Both.' Locke retorted his dark eyes flashing.

'On the former, I would say it's a definite possibility.' Michael said.

'Because of this thing with Dominic Santini earlier in the year?' Locke pressed.

Michael took another sip of his coffee and considered his response. His good eye held the other agent's gaze firmly. 'Because Dominic himself believed it was possible.'

'What do you mean?' Locke asked confused.

'When Dominic was kidnapped by Edward Sallis it made him reconsider some of the information the FBI gave to him at the time of the Hawkes' boating accident.' Michael explained. 'He realised that the FBI agent in charge back in the Sixties never actually confirmed that Alan and Jane Hawke were dead. He realised that there was a possibility that they had been told the boys, who had been accidentally swept overboard, hadn't survived the storm.'

'Why would he think that?' Locke asked.

'Sallis tortured him for information.' Michael said. 'I think it's fair to say the events of what happened came back to him in excruciating detail.' He sighed. 'And I think the conviction that Sallis had that Alan Hawke was still alive prompted it to some extent too. When Dominic confronted the FBI, he got more evasion and…'

'Jumped to the conclusion his theory was probably right.'

Michael shrugged.

'And you think he was probably right.'

'I think the FBI has an open file on Alan and Jane Hawke,' Michael said, 'and I think there are some unanswered questions.'

'How do you know that?' Locke asked surprised.

'Dominic asked me to investigate earlier in the year.'

'And?'

'And when it became clear that we were going to have to dig deeper, he didn't want to take the risk of alerting Sallis or the Cordelli family. Caitlin had just found out she was pregnant, Hawke was happier than he had been in years and Dom didn't want to risk putting Hawke's parents in potential danger by blowing their cover either.'

'He decided to drop it.' Locke said.

Michael nodded again.

'Which brings us on to the second question.' Locke's head tilted. 'What do you think of the Hawke brothers searching for their parents now?'

Michael wrapped his hands around his mug. 'What do you think of Saint John Hawke?'

Locke frowned. 'Why do…'

Michael held up a hand. 'Just answer the question.'

'He's a hell of a pilot, a good soldier,' Locke said gesturing, 'and a good man; honourable, straight as an arrow.' He shrugged. 'I don't see…'

'You've given him quite a testimonial but this is the same man who lied to you for months about the fate of his brother.'

Locke's jaw tightened. 'I'll agree that his behaviour over his brother is one thing I would change.'

Michael gave a little huff of laughter. 'When I gave you the Airwolf file do you remember what I told you about Hawke?'

'That he was a pain in the butt.' Locke commented. His dark eyes gleamed with sudden amusement. 'Although you didn't tell how much of a pain in the butt he really is.'

'I did say that, didn't I?' Michael remembered amused. 'Do you also remember me telling you that Hawke was a reasonable man?'

The memory clicked in Locke's mind. 'Sure, a reasonable man…' his face filled with sudden understanding, 'until it came to the matter of his brother.' He sighed. 'You think they'll have the same attitude about their parents as they have about each other.'

'I don't think they'll have the same attitude,' Michael corrected, 'I know they have the same attitude.'

Locke sighed. 'Jo said when the two of them got their heads together on something nobody was able to get through to them.'

'Maybe Dominic might have been able to have talked sense into them.' Michael mused. 'But I think Ms Santini is probably correct. However, from everything I know, the two brothers were also supposed to be a formidable team when they worked together.'

'You knew Dominic Santini.' Locke recalled. 'What was he like?'

'Dominic?' Michael gathered his thoughts for a moment, his mind's eye turned inward. 'On the surface, an old veteran pilot who lived to recount past glories and tried to run a half-decent air service and underneath? He was a bona fide American hero.' He didn't realise his words were coated with fondness. 'A damned good engineer. A patriot. Loyal.' He looked back up at Locke. 'He loved the Hawke brothers like they were his own sons. He would have done anything for Hawke, anything. Backed him up without question.'

'It sounds like it's a shame he's no longer around.' Locke noted.

'A damn shame.' Michael said.

'Saint John said you got his killer.'

'A few weeks back.' Michael sighed. 'We're a little off track here.'

'Well, you've answered my questions; you think there is a real possibility their parents might still be out there and you think they'll go after them regardless of what we think.' He rubbed his chin. 'We could both refuse to help them.'

Michael shook his head. 'It won't stop them.'

'But it'd slow them down.'

'I'd rather back them up.' Michael said carefully.

'The Company won't like this.' Locke said quietly.

'I'm not worried about the Company.' Michael rejoined.

Locke shook his head in disbelief. 'You should be. We don't have jurisdiction to go anywhere near this. Witness protection, organised crime on US soil. The FBI would have a field day with us if we so much as stuck our toe in that pond.'

'Locke,' Michael leaned forward putting his own mug down, 'Hawke asked me to help him not because I work for the Company but because I'm his friend. I assume Saint John asked you on the same basis. Now I don't know what your friendship with the man is but I know I'm helping my friend find his family.' He got to his feet. 'I think this conversation is over.' He made for the door.

'Wait.' Locke almost shouted the word as he lurched to his feet. He sighed at Michael's inquisitive expression. 'If we're going to do this then we should work together and make sure that we limit the fallout.'

Locke resumed his seat as Michael sat back down. He picked up his coffee and took a healthy gulp as he reviewed his predecessor's calm expression. 'Where do we start?'

'I've agreed with Hawke that the first thing we do is limit the risk of the Cordelli's or Sallis going after other people close to the brothers.' Michael picked up his own mug. 'Caitlin remains officially dead and I've sealed Nicky's birth record in the same way as I did with the marriage.'

'That still leaves Jo and Mike exposed as associates of Saint John's.'

Michael inclined his head. 'Jo in particular is at risk given her relationship with Dominic.'

Locke grimaced. 'I don't think there's a way around that.'

'Possibly not given the set-up you have with the Airwolf team.' Michael stroked his moustache. 'We'll just have to deal with that as a risk.'

'What about the exposure to the Company?'

'Unofficial business. We keep it off the books.' Michael said annoyed that the second thought the other man had was for the agency; he tried to remind himself that when he'd worked for the FIRM, it had been his first thought in everything he did. 'It gives the director complete deniability.'

'Agreed.' Locke said. 'So I guess that leaves us with two activities; one to find the Hawkes and the second to monitor Cordelli and Sallis and ensure they don't get interested.'

'Hawke has a plan for the latter.' Michael said.

'He does?'

'He wants to take them down.' Michael leaned back and watched the incredulity chase across Locke's face.

'He…he…' Locke gestured. 'Does he know the Cordelli's are a powerful mob family with connections into most of the organised crime in this country? The odds of him achieving that are…are unimaginable.'

'But we have one thing going for us.' Michael said calmly.

'What's that?'

Michael smiled. 'Hawke doesn't know the odds.'

Locke was speechless; he didn't know what he was more stunned by – Hawke's idea to take out the Cordelli's or Michael's total confidence that Hawke would do it. He drank his coffee down and wished it was something much stronger. 'How do we find the Hawkes?' He asked trying to steer the conversation back onto what he considered sensible ground.

'Two avenues.' Michael noted. 'Firstly, the FBI, both the agent in charge and the file itself, and secondly, this Yahara character. He must have got his information from somewhere.'

'Right.' Locke nodded.

'You know it wouldn't look odd for you to follow up on Yahara officially given what happened.' Michael said.

'I could do that.' Locke agreed. 'You'll take the FBI?'

Michael nodded. He felt the other agent was probably comfortable with that arrangement; any fallout would land directly on Michael's head. 'I'm going to Washington for a few days for budget meetings after Christmas. I intend to start digging then.'

Locke sighed and put the mug down. 'We're really going to do this.'

Michael smiled sympathetically. 'One thing I've learned from dealing with a Hawke, Locke; you back them up and they'll return the favour a hundred times over.'

There was the sound of the front door opening and a clatter of footsteps.

Locke was on his feet in an instant and was about to reach for his weapon when the study door was flung open and a young girl barrelled in and came to a breathless stop at the sight of him. Her blue eyes went worriedly to Michael.

'Hi, angel.' Michael stood up, took the couple of steps to his daughter and placed a reassuring arm around her shoulders. 'This is Jason Locke, a colleague of mine. Jason, this is my daughter, Angelina.'

Angelina looked at the African-American agent with suspicion but politely stuck her hand out. 'I'm pleased to meet you, Mr Locke.'

Locke took her hand and shook it solemnly. He could see the familial resemblance in the girl's features especially the eyes. 'Likewise.'

'Michael, I'm afraid we need a bigger budget for Christmas presents…' Marella came to a surprised halt in the doorway. Her expression changed in an instant from one of warm affection to that of an impassive spy. Michael's lips twitched at the change.

'Ms Chappelier.' Locke said wondering how many surprises he could endure in one afternoon as he deduced her presence in Michael's home was not part of her duties as his aide but of a far more personal nature.

'Mr Locke.' Her dark eyes went to Michael questioningly.

'We were discussing some unofficial business.' Michael said smoothly. 'But we're all done now.'

'Yes,' Locke gestured at the door, 'I should be going.' He nodded at Angelina and Marella. 'Thanks for the discussion, Archangel.'

Michael inclined his head in acknowledgement. 'I'm sure we'll talk again.'

'I'll see myself out.' Locke said and hurried out of the room.

They all waited until they heard the front door shut before moving; Marella to check he had actually left. She came back swiftly.

'He's gone.' She confirmed.

'Sorry about that.' Michael said. 'I thought we'd be finished by the time you came back.'

'Well, we are usually longer when we go shopping with Auntie Caitlin,' Angelina noted, 'but Nicky got tired and she had to take him home.' Her face brightened. 'We could all go to the beach for a picnic.'

'Sounds good.' Michael said. 'Why don't you head down with Brownie? He's in the back garden,' he had put the dog there whilst he'd taken the meeting with Locke, 'and we'll follow you?'

She gave him a hug and sped off. Michael watched her with the strange mixture of love and pride that never ceased to amaze him. He sighed and returned his attention to Marella who was looking back at him with amused indulgence.

'Was Nicky OK?' Michael asked.

Marella nodded and slid her arms around his neck as his went automatically around her waist. 'Babies get tired.' She kissed him. 'So I take it Locke was here about the Hawkes?'

'He was.' Michael answered.

'Is he going to help us?'

Michael sighed. 'He'll help but with one eye on what's good for the Company.'

'We used to be the same.' Marella said.

'I can't believe we were ever that pompous.' Michael commented.

'I certainly wasn't.' Marella agreed with a smile and slipped out of his hold.

His good eye gleamed at her. 'You're going to pay for that.' He said as he followed her to the kitchen to gather the picnic.

'Promises, promises.' She called over her shoulder.