Somehow, Hawke knew he was dreaming.

The sun was shining down on him and it was burning with such a fierce intensity, he could feel the heat of it through his shirt. He closed his eyes and propped his arms up on the sides of the Steerman he was supposed to be helping Dom fix. He was so tired. He just wanted to let the rays bathe his face and go to sleep. He tilted his face to the last of the warmth.

He frowned. There was supposed to be something he was doing. If he could only remember what it was…

The sound of a phone interrupted his musing. He didn't stir. It was a long way from the Steerman to the hangar.

'Would you get that?' Dom's words drifted over to him. 'String?'

He stirred reluctantly hearing the underlying note of grumpiness in Dom's voice. 'Yeah?'

'Would you get the phone? Please.'

Hawke looked up at the craggy face of his mentor. He was intent on his work dressed in an old white coverall and his ubiquitous red cap jammed over his grey curls. 'By the time I get there it'll stop ringing.'

'Humour me.'

Dom's voice had moved from grumpy to implacable but it didn't stop Hawke arguing as he jumped out and started walking. 'It'll probably stop ringing just about the time I get within…' the phone stopped ringing and he slowed to a halt, 'ten feet.'

'OK. So you were right.' Dom admitted.

Hawke continued walking to the hangar.

'Well now what are you doing?' Dom yelled after him.

'Well it rang so long it must be important. They'll probably call back just in case they misdialled.' Hawke said taking up a position by the phone in readiness. His lips twitched into a brief smug smile as the phone rang again.

'Santini Air.' He answered cheerfully with a knowing look at Dom.

'I have a collect call for a Stringfellow Hawke from a James Blake. Will you accept the charges?' The voice at the other end said.

'Sure.' Hawke said enthusiastically. He hadn't heard from Jimmy in ages.

The discussion that followed was a little disturbing; a friend of Jimmy's told him his friend was heading for Mexico on a bike after busting out of jail.

Hawke hung up the phone and took a step to stand beside the hangar door. He leaned against the wall.

'Why do I get the feeling that that call was collect?' Dom said walking up and rubbing his hands clean of grease with a rag.

'Because it was.' Hawke folded his arms.

'Yeesh.' Dom rolled his eyes.

'Do you remember me telling you about Jimmy Blake?' Hawke asked.

'No.' Dom denied straight away.

'Aircav. He pulled me out of Indian territory when I went down one time. He's in trouble in Texas.'

'What kind of trouble?' Dom asked.

Hawke was about to answer when it struck him. This wasn't a dream exactly. It was a memory.

'Something's wrong.' He said slowly.

'Sure. You were about to tell me.'

'No. Not with Jimmy.' Hawke pushed away from the wall and paced back to the Steerman. 'I remember this. I remember…' he turned back to face Dom and found the older pilot surprisingly calm.

'What, kid?' Dom asked gently. 'What do you remember?'

'This…' Hawke struggled to make it sense of it all. 'This was why I met Caitlin. I went to Texas to get Jimmy and met Caitlin.' He met Dom's sombre gaze. Reality intruded and he remembered the crash with surprising clarity.

'The helicopter was rigged so we would crash land but not enough to take us out. They want us out of the picture to what?' Hawke wondered out loud. 'Grab Airwolf? But they'd need a pilot and if we're injured or…' realisation was swift. 'Caitlin. They'll go after Caitlin, maybe Jo.' That was why he was in this memory he surmised. If he hadn't got the call from Jimmy, he would never have gone to Texas, never met Caitlin and there was a real possibility she would have ended up dead after her confrontation with the sheriff…

'That's right, String.' Dom said proudly. 'They need you.' He gestured with the rag he held. 'Jo and your family; Cait, Nicky and the baby.'

'Baby?' Hawke's blue eyes shot to Dom's.

'Ah.' Dom sighed. 'Me and my big mouth.' He gestured heavenward as though seeking patience. He tried a smile. 'Not yet.'

'But soon.' Hawke commented. 'Right?'

'I can't tell you when.' Dom said gesticulating in fine Italian fashion. 'And we're getting way off the point here. The point is your family needs you now and if you don't wake up you're never going to have that little girl, String.'

'A daughter?' Hawke tested the idea in his head. A little girl. Like her mother. God, she'd be a hellion. He started to grin. 'I'm going to have a daughter.'

'Focus, will ya, String?' Dom said exasperated. 'You have to wake up.'

Hawke focused; he focused on the older man. 'I miss you.'

'I miss you too, kid.' Dom stepped forward and pulled the younger man in for a swift hug. He pulled back and bussed his cheek. 'Now get going will ya?'

Hawke nodded; he could feel the sting of tears in his eyes – dream or no dream. He started to walk away from the hangar; away from the Steerman and the air service; away from Dom.

'Don't forget, kid!' Dom yelled after him. 'I'm always backing you!'

Hawke's eyes snapped open, wide and startled. The sunlight sent a shaft of pain through him and he groaned lifting his hand up to shield his eyes.

'Hey.' Mike said moving quickly at the sound of Hawke rousing. 'Easy there.'

'Caitlin.' Hawke gasped. His hand was shaking as it gingerly touched the bruised flesh of his forehead and scalp.

'Nope, buddy.' Mike said cheerfully. 'It's me, Mike.'

Hawke opened his eyes slowly and glared at the other man as he leaned over him. He motioned for him to move away and struggled into a sitting position. His head protested at the move and he groaned again as he held it with both hands. 'Where's Saint John?' He managed to get the question out through the intense pain.

'He and Archangel went for help.' Locke answered.

Hawke lowered his hands and looked over the makeshift camp to where the agent was sat by a camping stove making coffee. 'Together?' He took a deep breath. 'They went for help together?'

'Yeah.' Mike handed him an ice-pack. 'Here.'

Hawke took it and placed it against his head.

The other man shook out two painkillers and Hawke took them without complaint. He needed to get past the pain. The dream was a little fuzzy but he knew it had been important and he focused on remembering the details as he swallowed down the tablets with a gulp of water. He frowned as the news of Saint John and Michael's departure fully registered. 'Why did they go for help?'

'Radio's bust.' Mike said succinctly.

'Michael would have brought a satellite phone.' Hawke said confused.

'We don't know if the guys who took us down can track the signal if we use it.' Mike explained. 'You need medical attention and we all agreed that the only way to get it without risking the bad guys finding us would be if they headed to Foxridge on foot.' He sat back on the ground near to Hawke. He didn't like the lack of colour in the other man's cheeks and he was reasonably certain Hawke would pass out again.

'When?' Hawke said sharply. 'When did they leave?'

'Coming up on a couple of hours ago.' Mike said. 'They're going to call Caitlin and Jo; get them to bring Airwolf out.'

Hawke checked his watch. They'd crashed a little over two and a half hours before; by his reckoning on Foxridge was a twelve hour hike east of their position. They'd be too late to warn Caitlin and Jo. Hawke knew there was a possibility that they were already too late. 'We have to use the phone.' He muttered as he put the ice pack down and attempted to push himself off the ground.

'Woah.' Mike managed to grab Hawke's arm and steady him as he swayed on his feet. 'I don't think you should be doing anything.'

'And we're not using the phone.' Locke reminded him.

'This…' Hawke waved a hand at the helicopter, 'was meant to put us out of action.'

'Yes, permanently.' Locke said.

'No.' Hawke shot back. 'They were aiming to disable not to destroy.'

'Are you sure?' Mike asked before Locke could reply.

'I'm certain.' Hawke said shortly. 'They're keeping us out of the way. They're after Airwolf and a pilot.'

'Well, if they're after a pilot what's the point of forcing us to crash land?' Locke said exasperated. 'We're all here.'

'No.' Hawke said. 'We're not.'

'Jo.' Mike said horrified.

'And Caitlin.' Hawke added. He took a deep breath. 'We have to use the phone and warn them.'

'If we're not already too late.' Mike let go of Hawke and hurried over to where they had stacked the bags.

'We can't use the phone.' Locke said. 'What if Saint John was right and they can track the signal?'

'Then we give away our position.' Hawke snapped. 'At least, Cait and Jo will be able to get to safety and they'll come after us.'

'We don't know that they haven't been taken hostage.' Locke argued. 'We could just make things worse.'

Hawke's blue eyes lit up with a primal anger. 'Locke, I'm calling my wife and if you try to get in the way you're going to find my fist in your face.'

'Guys.' Mike stepped in between them as Locke rose angrily. 'Jason,' he turned to his team-mate, 'you said yourself earlier that we might have to take the risk of using the phone.'

'If he's wrong and they can track the signal, we'll bring those guys right to us.' Locke replied. 'We'll all get taken hostage.' The memory of what had happened to him before flashed in his eyes and he couldn't stop the small shudder that racked his frame at the idea of being tortured again.

Hawke's eyes narrowed on him but he stayed silent. He knew his own relationship with Locke was too antagonistic for him to convince the other man. Mike had the better chance.

Mike held his gaze firmly. 'It's better that we get taken than Jo.' He clasped his friend's shoulder. 'There are kids at the cabin, Jason. How can we not warn them?'

Locke jerked away from Mike and wrestled with his conscience. 'Fine. We'll call them.'

Mike nodded and headed back to the bags.

'You'd better sit down before you fall down.' Locke said to Hawke.

Hawke's face tightened and he adjusted his stance.

Mike pulled out the briefcase and hurried over to the centre of their small space. He knelt down and opened it up.

Hawke moved to kneel beside him as did Locke.

'OK.' Mike said as he flipped the switch to activate it. 'Let's…'

Hawke's sensitive ears caught a sound in the trees. His head whipped around to it sending another wave of pain through his temple. He raised a finger to silence the others.

'What?' whispered Mike scanning the tree-line. He couldn't make anything out in the dense foliage.

'I thought I heard something.' Hawke said. His senses were on full alert. He had heard something; he just couldn't pinpoint what.

'Let's just get on with this.' Locke said. He reached for the phone.

'Stop!'

The command shot across the clearing like a bullet and all three men turned to find themselves surrounded by a team of four men all pointing automatic weapons at them.

Hawke slowly raised his hands as his eyes flickered back to the phone. His heart seized in his chest. He'd woken up too late, he realised with horror; he wasn't going to get the chance to warn his family.