CHAPTER 5

By the time Airwolf was safely hidden in the Lair and the jeep pulled up at Santini Air, it was quite late and Dominic knew he wasn't the only one exhausted. He was about to offer String and Le to stay at his place for the night so they didn't have the longer commute before they made it home when the phone started ringing. He ignored it, knowing he would be able to deal with potential customers better after a few hours sleep. Besides, that was what answering machines were for. What surprised him was Hawke walking toward the continuing ringing. Typically he was the one that got more irritated by the after-hours phone calls, grumbling if he had to answer one twenty minutes late, much less five hours.

"String, don't worry about it. We can get it in the morning."

"I'll just be a minute," he replied, reaching for the receiver, "you can go ahead home if you want."

So much for spending the night in town, he thought to himself, seriously considering leaving. Finally curiosity got the better of him though, and he decided to stay long enough to find out who was calling and why in the middle of the night.

A few minutes later he heard Hawke hang up the phone only to have it start ringing again almost instantly. The time the call was more brief, and Hawke returned shortly.

"Are we open twenty-four hours a day now?"

"Evidently."

"So?" he pried. "Who was it?"

"It was Lexa."

"What about the second one?"

"Wrong number."

"Oh." That hadn't been exactly what he was expecting so he returned to the first question. "Is she ready to turn herself in, or did she just call to send a few threats our way?"

"She wants me to pick her up."

"So you know where she is? We can call the FIRM and finally get this mess cleaned up."

"No."

"What'd'ya mean no? Earlier you were as excited as anyone to catch her, and now-"

"I don't know where she is, a payphone somewhere near the Canadian border is my best guess."

"How are you supposed to pick her up if you don't know where she is? And why would she call you and not expect FIRM? If she's half as smart as you said, she'll know you aren't stupid enough to fly hundreds of miles away by yourself in the middle of the night..."

"No, actually I was planning in driving."

"String!"

"She gave me the address of a gas station in Washington near the border, and I'm supposed to meet her there tomorrow night. That way I have time to get a couple hours sleep and she has time to actually get there."

The older man sighed, still not too keen on the idea. "I still don't like it, but at least let me come with you. Or, better yet, sleep eight hours and fly up there. It takes half as long and we don't have any jobs lined up anyway."

"I'd have to file a flight plan, and the less paperwork tying you and the business to this the better. If you'll watch Le, I can be back in two days and everything will be back to normal. In the end, I think that's what we all want."

\A/

A nondescript blue jeep pulled into the parking lot across the street and a slight smile crept across Lexa's face as she recognized the man climbing out of it.

Once there was a lag in the traffic, she started across the road, not having been so glad to see him in years. His back was turned to her, but she would have thought he would have heard her approaching, especially with her currently uneven gait, but there was no mistaking the startled look on his face as her hand touched his shoulder.

"Lexa-"

"Sorry," she apologized. "I've been a little steadier on my feet."

"I... noticed. What happened to you? You..."

"I know I look rough, it's a long story though and I really think we should get back on the road."

"Not until I get some answers. You're a wanted fugitive in two different countries and I'm not going to risk getting involved in your mess until I know exactly what I'm getting into."

"You would leave me here after you drove all this way?" she questioned skeptically.

"Yes. I would."

"That's where I think you're wrong. There are security cameras out here and if one curious security guard sees me on there, their next step is going to be finding out who I'm talking to."

"You planned this all, didn't you? You trying to force me into-"

"No. I thought I had everything planned out, but things fell through. I messed up, okay? I'll tell you everything on the way, just get in the car and get us out of here before the police show up!" she interrupted, her fear easily evident.

"Fine, but you'll tell me everything. And I mean everything."

Without comment, she ducked into the passenger seat.

A moment later Hawke rejoined her, starting the engine and directing them back toward the highway. One they were on their way without incident he broke the uncomfortable silence that had settled between them.

"You can start talking any time."

"What do you want to know?" she asked, rubbing her sore arm.

"Why you left, what you did, and why you look as bad as you do. And the truth about Nikita, who she is and why she's suddenly here."

"Fair enough." She sat in silence for another minute visibly trying to relax. "When we stop for gas again, would you go inside and see if they have an bandages?"

"For your arm?"

"Yeah. I think I broke it. Again."

"Again?"

"Well, I guess it probably wasn't healed yet from our last excursion, but it hasn't been bothering me much until lately."

"I'll look," he agreed.

"As far as the other goes, I was in Canada obviously, mostly Quebec City, doing a job."

"I thought you were supposed to be taking personal time off."

"You know me, String, it's not that simple."

"Then enlighten me."

"I was after someone who was of great importance to me. Things get messy and me being me, I got into trouble. Borrowing a couple cars didn't help things either. Since there was no way I could have legally crossed the border, I did it illegally. I was behind schedule, but otherwise I was doing fine until someone decided to run into me head on. Since yesterday night I've been hiding out in the woods waiting for you to get here and trying to avoid the cops."

"I understand the cops being after you for some stolen cars, but I think you're leaving something out," Hawke prompted. "What kind of importance was this person to you?"

"I killed someone, alright? Does that make you happy now that you know exactly what I've been up to, that you're ferrying around a murderer?"

"You murdered someone? A sniper kind of thing, or-"

"Yes, yes I killed them. Why does it matter how?"

"I don't know. I just don't see how you can do it. A job like you have, then at the end of the day pretending it never happened."

"Sometimes it's not quite so easy as you make it sound," Lexa answered quietly.

"I'll bet the kid doesn't even know either. She's yours, isn't she?"

"Who? Niki?"

"Unless there's someone else the rest of the world should be knowing about."

"No, yes, well sort of," she stammered, not succeeding in giving a clear answer. "She doesn't exactly know what I do, but she has a pretty good idea. She's not my daughter, if that's what you're asking, but I am her legal guardian. Sort of."

"How sort of?"

"Let's leave it at guardian. I'm not sure if it was ever officially made legal. She does know that her real parents died in a car accident, but not that I cause it though.

"You killed her parents?" his disbelief couldn't have been more transparent. He'd had to live the majority of his life without his parents, only able to wish he could somehow bring them back while living with the guilt that he survived when they didn't; never he could he even briefly entertain the idea of hurting or killing them on purpose.

"It was an accident."

"A car accident," he retorted, " only evidently it wasn't such an accident after all."

"I didn't mean to kill them both."

"So it's better if you kill them off one at a time?"

"I was on an assignment to stop a international smuggling ring my father just happened to be in the middle of. If I had asked Michael probably could have assigned me elsewhere, but I had spent a lot of time and valuable resources getting in that deep and the FIRM pays me to do a job, not waste resources and then ask for sympathy. There was no reason why I couldn't do it."

"I still don't see how you could. He was your father."

"It was my job, that's how. I never did get along with him that well, but admittedly, it wasn't easy. I decided a car crash would be the best plan- less personal for me and it would look like an unfortunate accident."

"So what didn't go according to plan?"

"Everything went perfectly, probably some of my best work, except for one thing. My mother had died when I was three; intelligence failed to tell me he had remarried."