Fuming, Marella Coldsmith Briggs crossed her arms and paced the 9 x 9 cell. "How stupid could I be?" she ranted, heels clicking against the hard concrete floor. "I can't believe, I let myself get caught with such a…"
A heavy footstep in the hallway outside her cell, had her spinning abruptly - to face the last person in the world she would've expected to see.
"Oh, I don't know, my dear. You were, after all, going up against the very best," he said congenially.
"Michael?" she breathed in stunned confusion, the brown eyes going wide. "But how? Why?"
Thor stepped up behind the deputy director, clamping a powerful hand on his shoulder as he did so. The smile was friendly, but the eyes were cold and hard. "Because, I said so, Marella. And I'm the one who gives the orders around here. It's high time you and a few others got used to that fact."
Stunned, Marella's gaze volleyed between the head of the Firm who'd evidently decided to freelance and her husband. Michael a traitor? No, it couldn't be! she thought frantically. It wasn't possible!
"Time to go, Archangel," Thor commanded arrogantly, turning on his heel to go. Cane in hand, Michael followed without another word.
Stupefied, Marella gaped after them for a long moment before her brain kicked into gear. "Michael!" she yelled, flinging herself at the bars, shouting her husband's name. "Michael!"
He kept walking.
"Any luck updating those files?" String queried, shooting Seb a quick glance over his shoulder.
"Not yet," he replied, his tone harried. "For whatever reason, I'm having trouble getting data on the satellite's path over the last day or so."
"Trouble, how?" String demanded, his eyes narrowing, accessing.
"Don't know," Seb answered. "The data should be there. My security clearance should access it no problem."
"But?…"
"The computer says it's not there. Marella ordered the shift in orbit, so it should be there, but it's not…"
"Great," Hawke sighed.
Roper shot him a glance from the co-pilot's seat. "You're still going in?"
String shot him a startled, blue-eyed glance. "Yeah," he retorted, as if the answer should've been obvious. "Nothing's changed."
Roper tried not to gape at him. "What do you mean nothing's changed? Without the satellite pictures, you'll have no idea where the main cannons and surface to air missiles are. Nobody can run a Haversham without some idea where the ground fire is coming from. There's no way to take it out! They'll slaughter you!"
"Makes it harder," String replied laconically.
"Makes it harder?" the younger man intoned. "Hawke!" he blurted. "You're kidding, right?"
"Nope," he said matter-of-factly, shaking his head. "I'll just have to run the gauntlet and hope for the best. You and Seb will go in on foot."
"On foot?" Roper shot a glance to Seb hoping for a little support and to check to see if he was the only one who'd noticed Hawke had taken leave of his senses.
Seb shrugged, as if to say, 'Not a thing I can do about it.'
Rolling his eyes, Roper turned back to his father. "One mistake and they'll blow you and Airwolf right out of the sky!"
"I'm aware of that," Hawke said succinctly, eyeing his son. "That's why you and Seb are going in on foot."
"But you're flying?" he huffed, exasperated.
"Yeah."
"So, why can't you go in on foot?" he demanded.
String shot him a look of exaggerated patience. "Because somebody has to fly in. They're expecting it, and because it'll give you cover to get in and get out."
"I don't like it," he retorted hotly.
Hawke shot him a cutting look. "You don't have to. That's the way it is."
Angrily, Roper glared at him.
The claxion of the communications alarm interrupted the battle of wills. Punching a row of buttons, Seb brought it online. Lauren's white-clad image popped up almost immediately.
"Hey guys," she said, getting straight to the point. "Michael left on time." She drew a breath, a fine line crossing the delicate features. "I tried to access the info you asked about, Seb. It's not there."
"What do you mean, not there?" he queried.
"Exactly that, Seb. The files aren't there. I checked myself."
"Marella ordered the change in trajectory," he argued.
"I know she did. I saw her do it," She agreed. "Want me to have Brian look into it on my end?"
"No," Hawke cut across. "Stay out of it Lauren and keep your husband out as well."
"But…"
"I've got a bad feeling about this," String said. "You go poking around, there's nobody there to watch your back with Michael and Marella gone."
"Yeah, but…"
"Look," Hawke said, gentling his tone. "I know Marella's your friend, too. All I'm asking is for you to wait 'til someone can back you up."
The blond frowned, worrying her lip. "Fine," she muttered unhappily. "I'll wait…for now."
"That's my girl," String smiled, bestowing on her one of his rare grins.
She signed off.
"Seb, get me the charts you've got of the area and let's figure out how you two are going in," Hawke commanded.
Clicking came from the back as his fingers clattered across the keys.
"Think she'll wait 'til we get back?" Roper asked.
Hawke glanced at his son. He raised a questioning eyebrow.
"That'd be a no," Roper said wryly. "Great." Frowning, he poured through the files Seb was pulling up and scrolling across his screen.
Restlessly, Caitlin Hawke paced the length of the cabin. She'd done it so many times she could count the number of paces it took to go from one side to the other. Fifty-seven.
Dumping the cup of coffee she held, in the kitchen sink, she ground her teeth in frustration. Somehow, someway there had to be something she could do to help. Impatiently, she grabbed her coat and slipped out the front door of the cabin, latching it behind her.
Landed in a small field under the cover of darkness, the black metallic skin gleamed dully in the moonlight. The scene might be peaceful, but the tempers were not.
Kneeling in front of Airwolf, the dim glow of the lantern illuminating the ground in front of him, Hawke laid out his plan. "Go in here, from the east," he said quietly. "Slide up to the wall. There's no sign of barriers on the scanners up to that point. You'll hear the alarms go off when Airwolf crosses here. You'll have to scale the wall and work your way in from there."
"How long?" Seb asked, his blue eyes worried.
String rubbed his chin. "Should be at least five minutes before they realize anyone has penetrated their borders. The Lady will draw her attention at least that long. Once they realize it though, you're on your own. They've got enough firepower to stop a small army, so I suggest you don't dawdle."
Roper frowned. The plan while solid, left a lot of room for disaster. "So, how do we find Marella once we're in?" he asked.
String sighed, pointing with a blunt finger to the far side of the rudimentary map. "Heaviest point of activity is here. That'd be my guess for Von der Berg's center of operation."
Roper scowled looking at it.
"It's still a guess, though," String admitted.
The younger man shifted, trying to restore blood flow to his legs. "Lot of room for error," he commented bitterly, the blue eyes cold.
"Yeah, there is," String agreed tersely.
"I still don't see why you need to mount an aerial assault. Ground assault has a much better chance of success," he challenged.
"You're going to have to have some way to get out of there," Hawke retorted in exasperation. If Airwolf makes it, then she's it. If not, I should be able to take down enough of the Haversham screen that you and Seb working together should be able to manage to get one of those gunships out of there. Lot better odds, than by jeep. Just make sure you don't leave any of those 'copters able to get off the ground, besides yours."
Seb rose to his feet. "I'll go grab the gear," he commented quietly, wise enough not to get between String and his son. He might not like it, but he knew String's plan was their best chance.
"Hawke, come in with us," Roper pleaded. You've got the combat experience. Three will cover the ground more quickly than two…"
"Can't," String replied. "And you know it."
"You're a fool!" Roper spat out, his temper flaring. "A bloody-minded fool, and you're going to get yourself killed!"
Hawke raised an eyebrow. "Finished?" he asked.
"No, I'm not!" Roper growled. "I know you've flown a Haversham twice before, and I know you've made it - but barely. All it takes is one mistake, Hawke. What makes you so certain you won't make that mistake?"
"Nothing," came the implacable, one word answer.
"Then why?" he growled.
Hawke's hand came down solidly on his son's shoulder. The dark blue eyes sought his. "Listen," he said. "I'm not exactly excited about this, but I don't see any other way. Marella's my friend, I owe her. Not to mention, she has enough secrets locked up in that pretty head of hers to make a her a very real security risk if they turn her. I can't let that happen. Neither can you. Do you hear me?"
The younger man glowered sulkily, defeat bitter on his tongue. "Yeah, I hear you," he grumbled.
"Good," Hawke commented, giving his shoulder a squeeze.
"Ready?" Seb asked, returning from the Lady, gear in hand.
Glaring, Roper scowled before moving away to snatch up his own gear.
Hawke sighed, looking after his son. "Watch out for him, will ya?" he asked his younger brother.
Seb nodded soberly. "You know I will, String. You just watch out for yourself, okay?"
"Yeah," he replied, his eyes still on his son. He turned and faced his brother, giving him a brief hug. "Watch your back," he muttered, his own throat tight.
Seb drew back, his own eyes worried. "You too," he rasped.
Sighing, Marella perched on the edge of the sparsely made bunk, the rough wool of the thin blanket scratching the backs of her legs. Glumly, she evaluated her prospects.
She'd been here since Friday - at best guess it was Monday now. Long enough for someone to have noticed she was missing, but with Michael here she had to question that possibility.
What was he doing here? She wondered, nails worrying the rough nubs of the blanket beneath her fingertips. She was pretty sure his arrival was a new development. Had he informed anyone she was missing, before he'd disappeared himself?
Shoving off the bed, she rose; pacing the small cell again as she thought. He'd been under the influence of something - maybe, the missing vial of benzodiapine? That'd explain a lot. But why? What was Thor up to?
The latch clanked open as the door behind her slid open. A solid looking guard stood there, gun in hand - and just as clearly keeping a safe distance between them. He might shoot her, but she wouldn't disarm him. "Let's go, Mrs. Briggs," he said coldly. "Dr. Von der Berg is waiting to see you."
Airwolf rose slowly off the ground in the dimming light, rotors gradually picking up speed and their eerie howling trill echoing on the wind as well. All the flight controls that could be transferred from engineering to Hawke's control had been. The moment of truth was at hand.
Eyes trained on the monitor, he gauged time and distance as he waited for Seb and Roper to make the first wall. His watch ticked off the remaining minutes, the second hand hitting the twelve.
Easing back on the collective, Airwolf rose into the air, her nose pointing eastward. Swinging her tail boom around, Hawke hit the turbos, beginning his run low and fast over the rough, rugged terrain. Almost instantly, within seconds flak exploded off to his left. Swinging right, he rolled the helicopter hard avoiding the cannon fire. Another round exploded in front of him, the visor slamming down over his eyes at the last second.
Hauling back on the stick, Hawke slammed the Lady into a climb so steep, he could feel himself graying out from the g-forces. "Come on, baby, climb," he muttered, "or we're both toast."