Chapter 13

"I can't press upon you the urgency of this mission, Hawke"

"What the hell are you waiting for? Why don't you just get it over with?"

"What's the rush? I intend to enjoy this moment, Agent O'Connor"

"The whole thing was a set up. They hoped I'd take him out or the other way around, which ever came first"

"Michaels your friend, and even if he wasn't your friend, Michael is a man of his word. He made you a deal, Hawke"

"Half-Pint, I promise you, nothing is going to come up"

"But that's what you always say! You never keep your promises"

Stringfellow Hawke gazed out of the window of the Jeep as Cait's enthusiastic chatter and the blare of car horns protesting at this latest jam on the freeway, faded into white noise. The events of the last few days weighed heavily on his mind as he tried to fit together the pieces of the jigsaw puzzle. He was a soldier, a man relying on his instincts to keep him alive and those he cared about. That's what made sense to him, yet suddenly he felt threatened like a hunted animal, a knot constantly twisting away in the pit of his stomach and it worried him more than he cared to admit. Visions of Gabrielle, her life ebbing away in the desert, memories of Caitlin trapped at the bottom of the ocean, held captive by South American bandits haunted his dreams.

When he woke in that same cold sweat in the middle of the night, he would rest against door frames of the newly built rooms of the cabin, watching Cait and his nephew sleep, questioning again and again his decision to pull this amazing, selfless, ex cop from Texas further into his circle rather than push her away, like he had with so many others. Despite the craziness of the last few days, there was one thing Hawke was certain of, he would give his life in a heartbeat to keep his family safe, and destroy anyone that tried to take them from him.

"So I said Dominic Santini if y' don't chase these invoices, all those helicopters of yours are gonna be nothin' but scrap metal, and do y'know what he said Hawke?"

The Texan drawl, sweet as honey, teased the edge of Hawkes hearing, gently tugging him once again from his brooding reverie. Cait's gaze alighted on her passenger, who continued to stare sightlessly out of the window.

"Hawke?"

Cait frowned at Hawkes lack of response and returned her eyes to the road, chewing the inside of her cheek as she fought to conceal a smile.

"Oh and by the way, Michaels asked to me to marry him and I'm gonna go and work for the FIRM. I've told Dom I'll work out the week..."

Cait's gaze shifted once again to Hawke as he murmured a response.

Hawke wasn't prepared for the punch that landed squarely on the top of his arm.

"Hey!" He exclaimed, his head whipping round to look at Cait with a trademark scowl "What the hell was that for?!"

"What was what for? " Cait repeated incredulously, her hazel eyes wide with mock innocence "Stringfella Hawke, you haven't listened to a single word I've been sayin' since we left the Airfield!"

"Well...maybe if you quit your bellyaching-" Hawke bit out, surreptitiously rubbing the spot where Cait had struck him. She could certainly pack a punch when she wanted to, and almost felt sorry for all those bad guys she'd taken down twice her size. In truth, he'd been so completely consumed by his thoughts, the Texan had taken him by surprise.

"Quit my-" The words died on her lips as her indignant gaze met Hawkes, his own masked by his aviators. With Cait's continued presence at the Cabin, it was a look in her eye that had become oddly familiar to him, whenever she was passionate about something or simply frustrated or angry and in that one look it conveyed so much more than words ever could. Oh he'd known it was there, a brief flicker whenever she was reeming him or Dom out on some unfinished repairs, their latest run in with criminals whilst on a mission for Michael, or his fierce overprotectiveness of the woman he'd come to care for, but the first time he'd seen it, really seen it was after he'd returned from the mountain with a broken leg after a brush with the enigmatic Catman. He'd brushed off her concerns over his injuries, barked a token 'I'm fine' at the pretty red head, but he'd been hooked from that moment. Maybe in the years she'd been with them, Cait had kept it well hidden, only surfacing in her concern or worry over their safety, or maybe he simply hadn't been looking, but there was one thing Hawke was certain of. It was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

"Well, maybe I expected my co-pilot to be better company" Cait replied, completely oblivious to the rapidly escalating tension Hawke's unbecoming thoughts had provoked. Hawke leaned across the console, silently congratulating himself as Cait stiffened in her seat as she felt his breath gently tickle the spot just below her earlobe.

"Maybe... you expect too much"

Hawke flashed Cait a twisted smile before returning his to his brooding silence. They continued their journey without a word, Cait stealing the odd glance at Hawke as her eyes searched for any change in the Pilots demeanor.

"Ok, Hawke, what gives?" Cait asked finally, pushing her windswept hair out out of her face. When the pilot didn't respond, Cait took a deep breath and shifted in her seat, uncertain of the outcome of her latest topic of conversation.

"Fine. Why don't I help you out then, huh? You're worried about the FBI guy and whether or not Michaels involved in some sorta conspiracy to nab Airwolf-"

Slowly, Hawke looked round "and your worried about Le and how y'gonna make this all up to him"

Caits eyes met Hawkes, and a small smile tugged at the corner of her lips.

"How am I doin' so far?"

Cait quirked an eyebrow as she held Hawkes gaze, and he couldn't help but return the Texans smile. She'd managed to sum up his entire predicament in three sentences. In the three years he'd known her, she still continued to surprise him. Dom often marvelled at the way she could communicate so easily with the otherwise mulish pilot, whether it was a quiet word of support, or whether simply her presence was enough. He'd often said with a bark of laughter, that if she'd bottled it, she'd make a fortune. Archangel would probably even sell his own mother just to get his hands on it.

Hawke scraped his hand across his jaw and gestured towards the redhead.

"Is it that obvious?"

"Nah" Cait replied, waving a hand dismissively in her friends direction. She looked back at him with her familiar disarming smile "Only to me"

Hawkes brow suddenly furrowed as Cait took an unscheduled turn off the freeway, down a narrow street barely wide enough for a human being let alone for any sort of vehicle .The light instantly faded as the stark, concrete buildings loomed formidably over the Santini Jeep and from behind the safety of his aviators, Hawkes worried gaze swept over the gang graffiti sprayed generously over the harsh exterior. He knew the neighbourhood well, at least he knew of it's reputation, having done some flying work for a few of financial conglomerates located at the edge of town. He was also acutely aware that in this neighbourhood , the red, white and blue stuck out like a proverbial thumb.

"Cait?" Hawke said cautiously, as she swung the jeep around bags of rubbish dumped outside the back of a Chinese restaurant. "I think you took a wrong turn back there. The studio's the other way"

"I know that"

Cait's worried gaze flickering to the rear view mirror hadn't gone unnoticed by Hawke as she took another right turn down an equally narrow street. "I'm takin' the scenic route"

The irony was not lost on Hawke and it took him only a moment to realize the ex-cop was driving round in a complete circle.

Instinctively, his hand went to the gun tucked into the back of his jeans and Hawke shifted in his seat, turning to glance over his shoulder as a late model, blue sedan rounded the last corner and appeared into view.

"That Sedan's been tailin' us ever since we left the hangar" Cait supplied, her eyes once again on the rear view mirror as Hawkes gaze arrowed in on the blacked out windows. "Y'think they're FBI?"

In one swift movement, Hawke whipped off his Aviators and tucked them into the pocket of his flight jacket.

"I doubt it" Hawke growled, his thoughts turning back to the warehouse as he mentally chided himself for being so distracted that he didn't spot the the tail sooner. Swiveling back round, so as not to clue in their pursuers that they'd been seen, Hawke gestured through the the windscreen at yet another darkened alley.

"Keep driving"

Cait replied with a nod and took another right turn, glancing briefly in the mirror as, sure enough, the sedan re-emerged from a gap in the buildings.

Against his better judgement, Hawke allowed his mind to wander to the unusually balmy evening back in March when the CEO of Paramount Pictures had flown into Van Nuys personally on his private jet, with promises of fame and grandeur over their latest box office smash- the CIA's creation of a state of the art aircraft, stolen by its test pilot.

Dom almost choked on his meatball sandwich.

Michael turned whiter than his suit.

Hawke had immediately refused, believing it would draw unnecessary and unwanted attention to the crew, but Cait reasoned the script was too 'science fiction' to even be remotely believable. This was the first day out of their two weeks on set they'd travelled by road, the Director requesting the Jet Ranger be left overnight for essential promotional shots. It hadn't sat well with Dom. Not one little bit. He almost smiled at his surrogate fathers words, watching him pace around the hangar stopping only to wag a meaty finger in his direction.

'I swear String, If there's so much as one itty bitty scratch on my chopper , I'm tellin' ya, all hell will break loose! "

"Ah c'mon Dom, relax. " Hawke jumped down from his vantage point on the ladder, and slapped a hand on his mentors shoulder. He fought the urge to smile. " Think about your blood pressure"

Dom's bushy eyebrows knitted together in a frown

"What's the worst that can happen, huh?"

The low roll of Dom's knowing chuckle resonated around the hangar

"Sure String, Sure..."

Stringfellow Hawke didn't believe in coincidences, and it seemed his initial misgivings were slowly coming to fruition.

" Hawke?"

"Yeah" Hawke replied, his fingers tightening ominously around the handle of his gun.

"There's an intersection dead ahead. I think we can lose those fellas " Cait glanced across at her passenger. "...Whoever they are"

AWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAW

After what seemed like an eternity, Cait finally turned the Santini Jeep onto the lot of the movie set, swinging into the first available parking space. Killing the ignition, her hands still firmly gripping the steering wheel, Cait sagged wearily back into her seat. They both sat in silence for a few moments, watching the hustle and bustle through the windshield as the cast and crew went about their business.

"Well..." Cait said finally, turning to look at Hawke "I think we lost 'em"

Hawke scanned the immediate area with a trained eye, and satisfied there was no sign of the blue sedan they'd managed to lose in the traffic on the intersection, he turned to meet Cait's gaze.

"Yeah" Hawke replied gruffly, causing Cait to frown at the deep lines of concern that currently etched his brow.

"C'mon Cait" Hawke urged, already out of the jeep as a familiar sense of unease engulfed him. An unease that made the fine hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

"Let's get this over with"

Cait nodded and quickly exited the jeep, grateful of the comforting warmth of Hawke's hand on the small of her back as he guided her towards the Santini Air trailer.

"Hawke! About time!"

The hand that had occupied the small of her back suddenly grabbed Cait's wrist , bringing the pair to an abrupt halt and as they found themselves face to face with the person they wanted most to avoid. The studio director had suddenly materialized from behind the trailer, and by the thunderous look on his face, Hawke could tell he was in no mood for excuses. A pissed off Victor Kinson was not good for business as Dom had reminded him several times over the past month, and not for the first time, Hawke found himself resisting the urge to punch the man as the Directors gaze fell hungrily on Cait.

"Kinson, you sure know how to make an entrance" Hawke bit out, gathering himself enough to return the directors scornful smile.

"As do you, Mr. Hawke, Miss O Shannessy" Kinson replied, his smile softening slightly as he clutched his clipboard firmly against the chest. "As I always say, better late than never"

Kinson's gaze travelled up Cait's shapely thigh, before reluctantly shifting to Hawke

"What may I ask was the excuse this time? In flight emergency? Sitter called in sick? "

Kinson shook his head slightly "Your fish died... What-huh?"

Hawke slowly removed his aviators, and Kinson was totally unprepared for the icy blast that collided with his expectant gaze

"I don't have any fish"

Kinson opened his mouth to utter a retort and quickly closed it again, noticing the set in the pilots jaw, the tension in his shoulders.

"We, uh- kinda got a little distracted-"

The two men stood toe to toe, Hawke's glare never faltering as Cait moved from behind him, gently squeezing his bicep as she passed. She slid an arm around Kinson's shoulders, attempting to steer him away from a dangerously simmering Hawke. " But y'all got my word, it won't happen again"

Cait smiled brightly, deliberately overemphasizing her drawl as she'd heard from Rhonda in make-up, Victor had a certain appreciation for Texan women.

Victor nodded slowly, and a small smile worked its way onto his face.

"Don't worry, sweet cheeks" Victor said quietly into Caits ear, slipping a hand between her shoulder blades. " I'm sure I can think of a few ways you can make it up to me-"

A red mist descended and something inside Hawke finally snapped as he rushed forward, until his already fragile body slammed into the ground. Suddenly, he was back in the warehouse, the hot intense glow searing his skin as he lay on the damp concrete floor, the smell of twisted metal and burning flesh fresh invading his nostrils, the memories of Lynch and his men storming the warehouse flooding his mind. The palms of his hands still bearing the scrapes of where he'd pulled his battered body over to the dying FBI agent who had saved his life. He scrambled to his feet and yanked his gun from the waistband of his jeans. He'd barely made it out alive that time, but one thing he was sure of, they could torture him or shoot him where he stood, he wouldn't let them lay a finger on Cait.

"Hawke-"

The voice was so quiet, only a person with Hawkes sensitive hearing could've heard it.

"Put the gun away, Hawke. It's ok, it's just a stunt. It's just a stunt"

The roaring in his head subsided, and he turned to look at Cait, who stood beside him, her hand on his arm looking relatively unharmed.

"What the hell was that?" Hawke croaked, somehow managing to find something resembling a voice.

"It was a stunt, an explosion "Cait replied, as Hawke became aware of several crew members running around the set, barking instructions to anyone who would listen "It went off by accident"

Hawke lowered his gun slightly.

"Are you okay" Hawke asked, causing Caits breath to catch in her chest at the warmth and compassion in his eyes.

Cait smiled and gave a small nod.

"Apart from this darn ringing in my ears, I'm just fine"

Hawke returned her smile

"Uh, Hawke -"

They both turned to look at Kinson, who shuffled nervously from foot to foot as he stared wide eyed down the barrel of Hawke's gun, both hands raised above his head.

"Would you... Could you... Please would you put the gun away? " Kinson asked "that is unless you're going to shoot me!"

Hawke looked across at Cait and raised an eyebrow as the director threw back his head and laughed raucously at his own joke.

"No, I mean seriously-" Victor said, the smile slipping from his face "You're not going to shoot me are you? What I said earlier- you know I didn't mean anything by it, right?" He said as he looked pleading at Cait. She bit her lip and her gaze dropped as she fought to stifle the giggle that threatened to escape.

"Hawke- buddy, old pal-" Kinson's gaze fixed on the gun held loosely in Hawkes hand. "Please don't shoot me-"

"Don't tempt me" Hawke scowled as he stowed away his weapon, silently reveling in the look of sheer panic on the directors face.

Kinson exhaled loudly

"Thank God" Kinson muttered as he rolled his eyes to the sky in prayer "Now if you'll both excuse me... Fabio!" He yelled, as he rushed off in search of the culprit of the accidental explosion.

Cait glanced at Hawke and giggled as they watched the Director talk animatedly with a short, dark haired crew member, who they assumed to be the special effects guy.

"That was a little mean " Cait said as she fell into step beside Hawke.

Hawke gaze flickered the the woman beside him, not wanting to admit that maybe she did have a point.

"He deserved it" Hawke replied succinctly, remembering the way Kinson had slid his hand behind her back, whispered in her ear...

"Hawke-"

Cait reached out and took hold of Hawke's flight jacket, forcing him to stop and look at her.

"What happened back there?" She asked, her eyes searching his "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine" Hawke replied, as Cait's arm fell back to her side. She sighed as Hawke turned and walked towards the trailer, wondering why she'd expected any other answer from the brooding pilot.

"String-"

Hawke hesitated at the use of the softer derivative of his name, and turned to find Cait behind him.

" Y'know if y'ever wanna talk... About anything... y'know I'm always here, right?"

Hawke couldn't help but smile as he lost himself for a moment in Cait's wide honest eyes, and giving into a tug of attraction, he reached out and lightly touched an errant strand of her hair that had fallen across her face.

"I know " he replied, before the mask of impassivity slammed across his features and he disappeared inside the trailer.

Cait watched Hawkes's retreating form through the trailer doorway and jammed her hands on her hips. She couldn't deny she was worried about him, more than she cared to admit. She had never seen Hawke so on edge, maybe even a little out of control. Hawke had always told her the most dangerous enemies were the ones you couldn't see, and whether or not it was Michaels apparent betrayal, or the events in the warehouse, one thing had become clear. Hawke was afraid.

Inside the trailer, Hawke turned off the faucet with a squeak, and swirled his hand around in the luke-warm water, hypnotized by the little whirlpool it created. Hawke gripped the sink and bowed his head as he fought to regain control of his rampant emotions. For a man who had spent most of his life pushing people away, this was a feeling he wasn't entirely used to and it threatened to overwhelm him, a deep seated protectiveness that caused him to point his gun at an innocent man.

Slowly, he dipped his shaking hands into the and splashed his face, closing his eyes at the coolness of the water against his skin. Shaking the water from his hands, Hawke shut the cabinet and glanced up to find a set of piercing blue eyes looking back at him. Staring at his reflection in the mirror, his eyes swept over the well worn creases around his eyes, the deep lines that furrowed his brow, telling their own story of a lifetime of sadness and loss. The once-young face of a man that death and destruction seemed to follow, suddenly feeling every bit as old as every one of those man made cracks in those bones of his.

He wondered about the wisdom of letting Cait so freely into his life, inviting her into his home, of taking in Le when he had no one else. The wisdom of knowing he'd do anything, absolutely anything to keep them safe. He'd kill anyone that hurt them without a second thought.

Give his own life in a heartbeat to protect them.

He simply couldn't afford to lose control.

Scraping a hand across the light dusting of stubble on his jaw, Hawke grabbed a towel, and wiped away the last few droplets of water from his face. With one last glance at the reflection of Stringfellow Hawke, he tossed the towel to the side and left the trailer, closing the door behind him.