CHAPTER 6

Russian Countryside

5 miles out of Tver

3:13 pm

About ten yards away Dom was finishing pulling the camouflage netting over Airwolf, talking to his Lady all the while, most likely about his sudden outburst against Lexa only a few minutes ago. Maybe it wasn't totally deserved, possibly she could have changed, but he found it hard to believe even after all these years. Lexa was still Lexa, and she was still the most coldhearted, deadly, witch he had ever had the misfortune to meet. And to think he had almost fallen for her…how stupid could he get?

He shook his head, trying to clear the mental fog that had settled there, the images of her long golden blond hair, the gorgeous crystal blue eyes, and the irresistibly cute pink pout her lips always seemed to form…she was perfect. Perfect in every way except that she was a cruel, double crossing, evil traitor.

Why should he care what happened to her? She sure hadn't given him any reasons as far as he was concerned.

Dom just didn't understand, he couldn't. He hadn't been there, thankfully, and he wasn't ready to share the details with him, maybe never would be. Dom was like a second father and he knew he could trust him with anything, but still some things he couldn't find it within himself to tell Dom in their entirety. He was undoubtedly disappointed in the way he had acted in the cockpit and probably with good reason the way he saw things. Without knowing the rest of the story.

Why did Lexa have to be so darn good at what she did? Maybe she was the ultimate spy; she definitely met the hard nosed, die hard, ruthless, and stealthy stereotype. What she seemed to lack was a heart, a conscience, and any feeling or care for the rest of humankind. Again he found himself wondering what had attracted him to her, what in the world had possessed him.

Bringing a little cup of coffee from the portable coffee maker in Airwolf, Caitlin sat down beside him and offered him some of the brew.

He gratefully took it, hoping the warm drink would help him calm down a bit, but all too knowing of where this was headed. As much as he didn't want to hear the riot act read to him yet again, he hoped she would continue with Dom's tactics and not through her previously used methods at the cabin because the emotions were already running far to close to the surface, acting by whatever came naturally, by instinct, instead of carefully planning every move. If she tried the comforting route, allowing him to release the tension and relax and share when he was ready instead of pressing him for immediate answers, he knew it would be far too easy to allow her under the barriers again, to let her slide in unnoticed until he had poured everything out. He wasn't that kind of person; he didn't work that way, and couldn't, wouldn't let her play comforter until he had nothing to do but put everything on the table. It wasn't any of her business and not her problem.

Setting the now empty cup down, he shifted away from Caitlin, making it clear she wasn't to try a stunt like at the cabin.

"Hawke," she addressed, not making any mention of his action but continuing on.

"I don't want to talk about it, Cait," he said simply.

"I know it's really none of my business so I'm not going to ask, but if you ever want to talk, about this or anything else…. Heck, even the weather," she added with a lighter note, "I want you to know I'll be there to listen."

"Thanks Cait."

And there she goes again, right under the radar, right under your own nose you idiot! Hypocritical much. He wouldn't give Lexa a second though if something happened to her right now, felt she had it coming for all the pain she caused, yet in the same thought he wanted to cuddle up right next to Caitlin, share his burden with her and tell her things he couldn't tell anyone else.

At one time he had had someone to share thing with, not quite in the same way, but just as effectively. The problem was, he wasn't here anymore, the silent comfort and shoulder to cry on had been missing nearly sixteen years along with his brother and he still didn't know when it would be back, but it would, he would make sure of that.

\A/

Dmitri caught her foot as Lexa tried to kick him, yanking it and causing her to fall in a heap on the concrete.

"Give up Lexa. You'll never make it out of Russia alive, half the Soviet Air force is after you already."

"Then you better send out the other half too because you of all people should know I'm not giving up without a fight," she snapped, taking him down at the knees and reaching for her knife even as he tried to scramble back up to his feet. Plunging the knife deep into Dmitri's leg, blood instantly gushing from the wound and pooling on the cold ground beneath him, he crumpled under his own weight.

Rolling up to her feet, Lexa wiped the blood off with Dmitri's jacket, concealing the knife once again and disappearing again as if nothing had ever happened.

Now all she had to was find her extraction team because they didn't seem to be too worried about finding her and she was getting mighty tired of Russia.

Only minutes ago a helicopter had flown overhead, easily recognizable to her as a Bell 222, yet unlike any helicopter she had seen previously.

It had only been visible for a moment, shrieking by faster than should have been possible and she found herself doubting whether or not it had actually ever been there at all, or if were only a figment of her imagination. A lot had happened in her time undercover, maybe a little too much…

No, I can't be loosing it, she told herself, she was better than that. Ever since basic training she'd had opposition, this wasn't a woman's job she'd been told, but she'd served above and beyond the call of duty for six years before joining the FIRM as a top undercover secret agent, rising above each challenge, proving herself again and again. She wasn't done yet, and she had made it out of scrapes far worse than this one.

She had seen that helicopter, she knew she had, she also knew, being a Russian double agent for the last three years, that was no Soviet aircraft, and that could only mean one thing. But why a helicopter? How had it even gotten through the Russian's sovereign airspace? It was no secret half the air force was paroling and looking for her, unless… There had been that prototype, the one Moffet had been working on, and it would have had plenty of potential if it were possible, and if there were a pilot who could fly it, helicopters were made for low level flight though. Imagine a low level helicopter at mach one!

It would take a lot more that one heck of a pilot to fly something like that, even if it were possible. She would be sure it would take longer than this to build and finalize all the detail and to build a fleet of them as planned. The idea of them sending in a one of a kind prototype was simply preposterous, unthinkable. If they were to lose it, the Russians would tear it apart, take whatever knowledge and technology they could and therefore cause the US to lose the gained advantage.

Nevertheless, something had been there and she had to find out what.