((Greetings my few but faithful followers! My brain, for some reason, has begun to slowly awaken from its long slumber and I have started thinking about this story again. Now, this doesn't mean I've got a ton more written but I do have two more chapters and working on a third. They might be a touch slow since I'm getting back into the swing of writing in this world again. But hopefully you'll enjoy!
But here's where someone can help me out a little! The year is roughly (I figure) 2010. I need a computer geek/genius from a TV series. A free lancer perhaps - Someone who could be 'stolen' from another series and transplanted in this world? It can be anyone from 80's, 90's or 2000's shows so long as they seem the kind to keep up or ahead of technology. Anyone have some suggestions? (I'm sure you can put two and two together to get what's coming in the future but I'm drawing blanks as to whom might fit.)
Anyway, enjoy and PLEASE review.))
Chapter 8
Archangel chuckled slightly at her shocked expression. He looked to the left as the man she knew as Michael Bridges went over and unlocked the cuff from her left wrist. He stepped quickly away to avoid any possible retaliation.
Red was still staring at the 'dead' man that she hardly noticed she was now free.
Finally Michael walked towards Archangel and she could finally see the resemblance. The only difference was the fact that there was no facial hair on the younger man or glasses. It changed his features just enough that he wasn't easily recognized as being related to Archangel.
Finally she stood up, rubbing her wrists as Archangel came over and handed her the shoe she'd kicked off earlier. "Excuse the dramatics but we didn't want to take chances that you'd become…unwilling to go with my son to somewhere other than a restaurant."
Red hesitantly took her high heeled shoe and dropped it on the floor, then slid her foot into it after righting it with a toe. "Yeah, well…can you blame me?" she snapped a little, glaring at the younger man. "With all that's happened in the past two years, I've learned to be a little paranoid."
Archangel smirked, an expression she knew from the pictures on the wall of the cabin. The only difference was the added wrinkles and lines to his face and the gray mustache. "Well since we were so rude as to deprive you of your dinner, I believe we can remedy that oversight." His hand raised slightly to indicate for her to look behind her.
As she did, turning just enough to look while still keeping a wary eye on the two men, she saw a table set for three with fine white linen, china plates and wine goblets. There was a bright light shining down on the table that left the rest of the surrounding area in shadowed darkness. She looked back at them and raised an eyebrow. "I've got one question…," she said with a low, dangerous tone to her voice.
The older man raised an eyebrow. That tone brought back memories of Hawke and how he would speak in that similar tone, especially when he was angry. "Go on."
Red looked to the son and then the father, "Why?"
Archangel nearly choked as he let out a little chuckle, "Why?" he responded. "That's a very difficult question to answer especially when one needs to know exactly what 'why' you're referring to. Why am I not dead? Why did we bring you here? Why the pretence?"
"Exactly," she snapped. "So seems to be many whys and no answers."
Michael sighed finally, "Red, come. Let's sit down and have some supper. We can talk about it as we eat. You're probably hungry and it's not helping you're attitude any."
She whirled on him, "You two better have a damned good reason for all of this or you'll find out what it feels like to have my fist shoved down your throat."
Michael held his hands up, "Whoa! Seriously, calm down. Let's eat and we'll talk. If you don't like what you hear I'm sure you'll have plenty of reasons to exact retribution later."
Archangel had walked over to the table and was holding out one of the chairs. "Miss Hawke, please. All will be explained in due time."
With a sigh of resignation though her eyes were still narrowed in anger, she made her way towards the chair and sat down, allowing Archangel to seat her properly like a gentleman. Within moments of her being seated Michael had set out several platters of food on the table and a bottle of wine. Once everyone was seated and food was dished out, Red waited for a few moments until the other two had begun to eat. She wasn't taking chances. Once they had taken several bites and swallowed what they'd taken, she finally relaxed enough to eat herself.
As the meal carried on in silence, she took time to get a good look at both men and they, her. When dessert was served, she sat back in her chair, still not having touched the wine or the dessert.
"Alright, we've eaten. Now…why?" she asked again, keeping her tone neutral.
Archangel sat back, crossing one leg over the other. "Well, for one thing. Once your father and Santini were both dead, I was expendable. You're father had left me with only a few clues as to how to find Airwolf and when I couldn't deliver the equipment after their deaths, I heard through my own network of informants that I was next on the list to be eliminated. I had to work fast, putting contingency plans into place as well as setting up enough capital and resources to keep me alive. Since I never knew when the hit might take place, I had to be prepared for just about anything at any time."
Shifting some in his seat, he swirled the wine around in his glass. "I'd found out a year earlier that I had a son and it changed my outlook on things. I'd hidden him away as well and had taken precautionary measures to ensure he wasn't found out or they might try to use him as leverage against me. I was brought the information that I was to be killed in a chopper accident and took to having basically a stunt double of me flown around. Merella was insistent of being the one to fly 'me' around, saying it wouldn't work if we had two people sitting in for us. Unfortunately it cost her, her life. When news came of the helicopter crash, I went into hiding along with my son."
She looked over at Michael as he fiddled with his dessert. He looked back up at her and smiled a little. Still keeping her face passive, she turned her head to look back at the older man.
"So, you went into hiding…then what?" she asked, trying to keep things moving along.
Archangel sighed, "Even through all my planning and scheming, I never stopped looking for Airwolf. In the end, I had nothing to guarantee my continued existence in the world of espionage or exact revenge for Hawke and Santini. For awhile after my 'accident' I continued to look but had no luck finding her and I finally gave up the chase. To this day, I have nothing more than those few clues and they don't add up to much."
She snorted slightly and rolled her eyes, her arms crossing over her chest. Her eyes flicked to look at Michael, "What about him? Have you made him into a little Spy Jr?"
Michael grimaced at that and shrugged, "What I told you is true. I work for a large film studio and I'm one of the people hired to go out and find companies to fill rolls and duties for certain films, such as stunt car drivers, chopper pilots or vintage aircraft owners and pilots for movies. But I also use my job and position to go places and gather information that is useful to certain elements that dad has contact with."
Red grit her teeth a little. She was quiet as she thought things over. They'd given her information but in the end, it really didn't tell her a whole lot. All she knew was that Archangel, no matter how 'dead' he was supposed to be was still a spy to his core and had taught his son how to spy for him.
Looking at Archangel finally she grumbles, "Why Airwolf then? Why now after all this time. It's obviously why I'm here. You want it for some reason. Leverage or blackmail?"
His one good eye grew cold as he focused on her. "Do you even know what that helicopter is? What it represents? It is the most advanced piece of hardware and engineering of its time and though it's technically fifteen years out of date, the systems on it were way before their time. The software alone was programmed to do things that other equipment is just now beginning to catch up with."
Red raised her eyebrow to show her disbelief though from her father's journal records she could just about believe him.
Archangel stood up and shifted against his cane as he walked around to stand behind his chair, restless. "The reason RedStar, aka 'The Firm' is still after it is because it holds secrets deep within its databanks, locked away by its creator, Moffet, that could expose them and bring their whole system crumbling down around their ears. Until they see the destruction of Airwolf or have it within their control, they will continue to search for it and eliminate anyone who stands in their way of getting it."
Michael looked over at Red, "So we have to ask you to be honest with us. Have you found it? Have you found any clue as to where Stringfellow might have hidden it?"
Looking down at her lap, she let her arms drop to shift the edge of her dress a little then looked up at the young man sitting across from her. "No, unfortunately. Hawke's journals end about three months before he was killed. He made mention of retrieving information off of some databanks and data files from previous downloads and stored them with Airwolf for safekeeping but that's the only mention that gave any clue he'd done anything with it out of the ordinary."
Both men seemed to deflate a little. Archangel stroked his mustache in a way that spoke of habit, possibly showing a hint of frustration.
"I've been all over that cabin, every piece of paperwork, inside every book, every nook and cranny. It was the same with the hanger. There was nothing that stood out as strange or seemed out of the ordinary to give me any idea of coded clues, messages or 'X' marks the spot. Wherever Hawke put Airwolf, I get the feeling it wasn't ever meant to be found again."
Both men were quiet now as they seemed lost in their own thoughts for a few moments. Michael was the first to break the silence. "Then it is best to leave things as they are and return you to your trailer and the air show. We would ask that you keep what you've learned here tonight to yourself, for your safety and ours."
Red had a feeling there was much more that wasn't being said but she had no desire to be involved with their game of cloak and dagger. She'd already been on the receiving end of the results of Red Star's suspicion and didn't want to experience it again. Next time might be the last.
Standing, she pushed in her chair. "Fine, just show me the door. I'll call a cab and get myself back."
Michael stood and shook his head. "We can't allow that. We don't want you to know where this place is. I'll have to ask you to put this on," he said as he stood up and held out a black hood.
Looking at the black material and then at Michael, her eyes flashed a little in anger. "You've got to be kidding."
He shook his head, "It's for the best and everyone's safety. Yours included."
Walking up to him, she glared up at him for a moment, then snatched the material out of his hand and looked it over. "I better be getting my pistol back when we get back to the air strip or next time I see you, I'll find a way to put a few holes in you with or without a gun."
She heard Archangel behind her try to smother a laugh and Michael blinked in surprise at her. "It's in the chopper and as soon as we touch down, it'll be the first thing I return to you."
Giving Michael one last look, she grumbled something under her breath about bastards and pulled the black fabric over her head. She felt the draw string pull it closed around her neck but it wasn't as tight as it could be. It just cut off any sight of the floor from her eyes looking down.
"I'll lead you over to the chopper and we'll be on our way," came Michael's voice, slightly muffled as she felt hands on her shoulders. They turned her slightly and as they did, she felt her balance tilt, her head spinning slightly. The hands steadied her, the sound of concern from coming Michael by her right shoulder. She opened her mouth to say something to him when she tasted the sickly sweetness of something in the air she'd inhaled at the back of her throat.
"Fu…," was all she could say as she felt her knees buckle and a pair of arms scoop her up before she could hit the floor. Clumsily throwing an arm out, she tried to free herself but nothing came of it as her arms were pulled in close to her sides.
"Hate..ou," she managed to mumble through the fabric as her body began to relax.
"I'm sorry my dear. It really is for your own good you don't know where this place is...," came Archangels voice as if from a distant hill.
