The cockpit was quiet; the only sounds the hum of the engine and the steady beat of the rotors. Both brothers had lapsed into silence early in the flight, lost in their own thoughts.

Hawke rolled his shoulders feeling the strain of the day's flying starting to tug at his muscles.

'You want me to take over for a while?' Saint John asked seeing the move. He could see the moment of indecision on his younger brother's face, torn between wanting to continue to fly and the need to rest.

Hawke sighed and nodded. He relinquished the stick to his brother and as he felt the weight shift on the paddles under his feet, drew his own away. He glanced at the clock on the instrument panel, calculated their remaining travel time. 'It shouldn't be too long before we see Gilligan airfield.'

'We should probably talk about what we're going to do when we get there.' Saint John said.

'It's going to be late.' Hawke commented. 'We're probably best trying to find her in the morning.'

'So, a motel?' Saint John asked.

'Yeah.'

Saint John smiled; his brother sounded as enthused as he was at the idea. 'What did Michael's information say about this airfield? Anything nearby?'

'Nope.' Hawke recalled the details from his memory. 'It's a small private airfield. Four air services supplying tourist rides; crop-dusting and courier services. Control tower operates nine to five; beyond that the air services inform each other if they're night flying.'

'So we could land in a deserted air field?' Saint John checked.

'Could be.' Hawke said.

'Remind me why we didn't want to wait until morning.' Saint John muttered.

'We can always sleep in the chopper.' Hawke responded ignoring the comment. 'It wouldn't be the first time.'

'I'm getting too old.' Saint John sighed. He glanced across and saw the faint smile on String's lips. 'Hey! It'll happen to you one day.'

'Maybe.' Hawke allowed folding his arms across his chest.

There was a moment of silence.

'You know I've been thinking…' Saint John began.

'I hope you didn't strain something.' Hawke quipped.

'Funny.' Saint John took a second to glare at his unrepentant younger brother. 'If she's as jittery as you think, we're going to have to be real careful or she'll run as soon as we start asking question around town.'

Hawke sobered but didn't reply; the same thought had occurred to him.

'She may not even know about us.' Saint John mused.

'We look alike.' Hawke noted almost incongruously.

'Yeah.' Saint John agreed. 'That picture of her kid; that could have been you.'

Hawke nodded. 'I'm hoping there's enough of a family resemblance that she gives us a chance.'

'Me too.'

The look they shared was familiar; an understanding on a deeper level than mere words. Hawke felt a warmth steal into his bones and settle.

'You think this Larry guy will find our folks?' Saint John asked idly.

'If anyone can, it's Larry.' Hawke said.

'How did you end up saving his life?'

'He ended up being targeted by a Russian mole in the FIRM who tried to kill him.' Hawke shifted in his seat. 'Dom and I turned up in Airwolf just in time.'

'You miss Dom a lot, huh.' Saint John said.

'Yeah.'

It was one word but it was filled with emotion; so much emotion. Saint John could hear grief, regret and loss. He sighed. 'Mike's a good guy.'

Hawke's eyebrows shot up and he looked over at his brother questioningly.

'He'll be a great co-pilot for you if you just give him a chance.' Saint John pressed on.

Hawke frowned. 'Has he said something?'

'No,' Saint John quickly denied, 'of course not.' He gave a sideways glance and was relieved to see Hawke looked puzzled more than annoyed. 'It's just I get the sense from what he has said that you're giving him a hard time.' He steadied the helicopter as they hit an air current. 'I mean training him?'

'He's never flown the new Airwolf before.' Hawke said mildly.

'But he has flown Airwolf and that new bird doesn't look all that different to me.' Saint John pointed out.

His brother didn't answer.

'I just think you need to ease up.'

Hawke sighed. 'I've barely worked with him a week, Saint John.'

'I trust him with my life.' Saint John said. 'Hell, I did every mission we went on together.' He frowned as a thought struck him. 'You don't trust him, do you?'

A muscle worked in Hawke's jaw and he found himself resisting the urge to snap. He took a deep breath. 'Honestly? No, I don't. Not yet.'

'But…'

'Saint John.' There was enough of a warning note in Hawke's voice to stop his brother from continuing. Hawke took another deep breath and wondered how many he was going to have to take before they could drop the subject. 'Rivers can fight his own battles. If he's got a problem, he should tell me.'

'He doesn't have a problem.' Saint John allowed.

'Then why do you?' Hawke retorted.

'I just want this to work out for him. That's all.' Saint John shrugged. 'He deserves it.'

Hawke silently assessed his brother for a long moment.

'What?' Saint John demanded.

'You regretting your decision?' Hawke asked bluntly.

'No. Of course not.' Saint John denied.

'But you feel guilty for abandoning Mike.' Hawke deduced suddenly.

Saint John sighed as he acknowledged the truth of his brother's words. 'I just think you should give him a break.'

Hawke relented a little with understanding his brother's motivations better. 'He's a good pilot, Saint John, and he's doing fine. He wouldn't be in my cockpit if he wasn't.'

'Isn't that supposed to be his cockpit too?' Saint John pointed out.

'Maybe one day it will be.' Hawke said softly. He smiled. 'He has to convince more than me.'

'Caitlin?' Saint John queried.

'A different lady.' Hawke said.

'Airwolf.' Saint John surmised. 'Mike mentioned something about her having a favourites list.'

There was a subtle question in Saint John's statement; Hawke ignored it.

'I still think the artificial intelligence thing is a little freaky.' Saint John commented.

Hawke shrugged. 'She's saved my life and Cait's too many times for me to worry about it anymore.'

'It doesn't freak you out that she could take control?' Saint John said.

'She won't if I'm flying.' Hawke muttered.

'The favourites list.' Saint John realised. He banked as he made a course correction. 'So, you haven't said anything about me and Jo yet.'

Hawke's eyebrow quirked up at the abrupt change in subject. 'What do you want me to say?'

'I don't know.' Saint John admitted with a laugh. 'I just want to know you're OK with Jo becoming part of our family.'

'She already is.' Hawke said simply.

Saint John smiled appreciatively at him.

'So I guess it's serious.' Hawke commented.

'Yeah.' Saint John agreed. 'It's serious.'

Hawke nodded understandingly. 'I'm happy for you, Saint John.'

Saint John felt the sincere words to surround him like a warm blanket. He gestured at the lights in the distance. 'That should be Gilligan airfield.'

They both tensed as the distance was quickly eaten away.

Hawke frowned at the sight of the police cars surrounding one hangar. 'Something's happened.'

'Well, at least it's not deserted.' Saint John said as he angled the chopper to land a safe distance from the hullabaloo on the ground. They sat looking out at the scene for a long moment.

A battered old sign on the top of the hangar proclaimed the place as Herman's. The hangar was open, bright light spilling out onto the tarmac and competing with the blue and red strobes from the police vehicles parked out front with an equally old Ford car. Hawke could see police officers searching the area around the hangar; the sheriff was talking to an old man off to one side of the doorway and across the airstrip at another service another cop was talking with the pilots there.

'String.' Saint John nudged his arm and pointed to one of the cop cars. The back passenger doors were open and crouched in front of them was a woman officer trying to comfort a small child. 'Isn't that…?'

'Yeah. That's Sarah's kid.' Hawke opened his cockpit door and they jumped out. They made their way across to the hangar quickly and headed straight for their nephew.

'Hey!'

They both turned at the yell to see the barrel-chested sheriff striding towards them. The brothers exchanged a quick look and by mutual agreement stopped.

'Who the hell are you and what are you doing traipsing across my crime scene?' The sheriff glared at them.

'I'm Saint John Hawke. This is my brother Stringfellow Hawke.' Saint John made the introductions as Hawke's eyes were glued to the kid. Saint John sighed and decided to get straight to the point. 'We're looking for our sister Sarah Hardy, Sheriff…' his eyes fell to the badge on the green jacket, 'Dulles.'

'Sarah, huh?' The sheriff took off his hat and mopped his brow and Saint John stiffened under his considering look. 'You don't much look like her.' He replaced his hat. 'But your brother's got the same look.'

'He takes after our mother.' Saint John commented wryly.

'What's going on?' Hawke asked brusquely his attention swinging suddenly back to the sheriff.

He shuffled nervously, feeling he was being weighed and found wanting by the ice blue gaze that pinned him. 'The kid called it in.' He blustered. 'Claims he saw his mother abducted by some man.'

Another look between the brothers, this time edged with fear and concern.

'Are you telling me our sister's been abducted?' Saint John asked furiously.

'Yeah.' Dulles placed his hat back on his head registering the shock on the two men. 'I guess that is what I'm telling ya. She's gone. There ain't no sign of her.'