CHAPTER 14
"Hawke, leave it," Caitlin told him, gently tugging on his grey flight suit.
"I should go help. It's my fault the thing is messed up in the first place."
"Not your fault, that could have easily happened with any of us flying, and you kept us alive and unhurt, that's what matters."
"Didn't do so well with Dom's Lady though. The only reason he probably isn't already down my throat is because he feels bad that I got shot."
"That's another issue we need to address."
"What? Now you're the self appointed flight doctor too?"
"Hey, you do what is necessary," Caitlin quipped. "Besides, somebody has to look after you; otherwise who would have shot that Russian for you when he was-"
"About to blow my brains out," Hawke finished tactlessly. "Yeah I know. I guess even I need someone covering my back occasionally, and I sure would rather have you on my side than against me.
"Now can I please go see if I can be of any help to Dom and Lexa?"
"Not until I have another look at that wound of yours."
"It'll be fine," Hawke objected even as she gently pulled him down to her level where she was sitting. "It's not the first time I've been shot and probably not going to be the last if I keep up in this business."
"That doesn't mean you shouldn't still show a little concern," Caitlin chided, "and you haven't exactly had a weekend of rest and relaxation, and you have lost a lot of blood."
"I haven't lost it," String argued just to be difficult. "I know exactly where it is - in a nice puddle on the floor back at the warehouse."
"Yeah and soaking through those bandages and all over your flight suit, and probably the whole front of the cockpit. Now just sit still a minute and let me clean it up so you can go back to saving the world."
With Airwolf's first aid kit at her side, Caitlin unbandaged the gunshot wound, poured more antiseptic on it, and rewrapped it within minutes.
"How bad does it look?" Hawke asked once she was finished.
"Not too great," Caitlin admitted, "but then again, I don't guess any bullet wound would. I am afraid it might be starting to get infected though."
"Wouldn't surprise me, hurts like hell."
"You want something for the pain? There's practically a whole pharmacy in there, something has to help."
He shook his head in response.
"You sure? I mean there isn't any reason for you to be in pain when-"
"Can't," Hawke interrupted, "can't afford anything else clouding my vision or judgment when I'm flying."
"Stringfellow Hawke, you have got to be the most stubborn…. There are two other perfectly able pilots and you still insist on flying yourself."
"Three."
"What?"
"There are three other pilots. Lexa's a pilot too - flies about anything from hang gliders to fighter jets - or at least she used to. If anyone else flies I want it to be her."
This made no sense to her, Caitlin thought irritably. He doesn't like this agent, practically despises her, but if anyone else were to fly it had to be her - the one he didn't like. Did he really not make that much sense or was she just that confused?
"That job for Michael I told you about, after that we both worked on the Airwolf project for a while, even both competed against each other for chief test pilot, but something happened. She crashed on one of the test models, tore it up pretty bad. Everyone tried to tell her it was a machinery malfunction, one of the inherent risks of testing, but she couldn't be convinced. She doesn't mind flying with someone else usually, but refuses to do it herself;she's too afraid she will crash again and take everyone down with her."
"Why did she practically climb over the engineer's console to get you to fly upwards instead of dropping down then?"
"She knew she wouldn't ever make it that far. Besides, she doesn't trust her flying skills, but considers her judgment fine."
"And do you agree?"
"I trust her flying ability; we just don't have much other we can agree on."
\A/
The lighting was less than adequate for the task at hand, requiring much concentration, but not enough to distract Lexa's keen ears.
Before she even turned around, she knew it was Hawke, but someone else was there too, probably his girl, she told herself, Caitlin did seem to have a way with him, yet in some ways they seemed very distant. Wonder why? She mused, already figuring she had that answer. Hawke didn't share much abut his past and that made it had for anyone to really get to know him.
When she did turn to face him, she was hit with a major wave of déjà vu.
Long blond hair blowing in the wind, she stood, arms crossed and scowling as Hawke lighted out of the medivac helicopter, side bandaged and limping, serious faced and grim, but he was here.
"Finally decided to rejoin me?" she sneered. "Well don't bother. I don't want to work with someone who just leaves without explanation. You could have ruined everything!"
"I told you, I was looking for my brother; I covered my tracks. You're the one who almost got me killed."
"Me?"
"You sent half the army after me when I was trying to sneak in, and somewhere there was some miscommunication because many of the same ones that came to rescue me before I needed rescuing ended up against me before everything was done."
"Well do you at least feel better? You've gotten your butt shot at, near blown yourself to bits and still haven't found your brother. I always heard you were a cynic, but you seem more like the opposite, helplessly blind to the fact he has been missing eleven years and it would take nothing short of a miracle for him to still be alive, much less in any condition for him to ever live a halfway normal life."
"Don't you ever say another word against my brother, or so help me…"
"Don't worry. After this I'll make sure I do all I can to stay out of your life because I sure don't want you in mine."
With that they had departed, intending to never have to see each other again. So much for that. He was consumed by an overwhelming determination to find his MIA brother, and her devotion was for the agency she worked for; she had vowed to protect her country to the best of her ability, and nowhere did she find any gray area there. Do what you're told, when you're told to do it, no exceptions. He, on the other hand, thought there was more than that. He believed in most things being black and white, but there were still other things that mattered - family, country, morals, values, loyalty, integrity. To her if you did the duty expected all the others simply fell in line. It was a difference they couldn't overcome, one unscalable obstacle, so they would just have to keep to themselves as much as possible and stumble through the rest.
That was difficult to do now though; it was too similar.
Slightly long locks of brown fringe hung over his forehead, ruffled in the breeze as he moved stiffly toward her, newly wrapped bandages showing vividly in contrast to his blood stained grey flight suit.
"How's it coming?"
Dom shook his head. "Not much luck yet."
"Marella arranged the extra fuel pickups. We'll just have to use turbos until we get back then do the repairs at the hangar."
"After we send you to the hospital."
"I'm fine, Dom. If I've made it this far, what's the point now?"
"They've got hospitals up here even though it's nearly the arctic and I'll take you right now if I have to."
"I'm okay."
"Sure you are. Now let's get back in that cockpit and get home before we start getting hypothermia."
String agreed readily. He had had his battles there already and he never wanted to go there again.