CHAPTER 5
Marella entered Michael's office a few minutes later, a surprised and confused expression evident on her features.
"You're still here?"
Now it was Dom's turn to look confused. "We're staying until we can come to some agreement over what we're doing about rescuing String."
"Oh, I see…."
"What is it?" Michael questioned; she wasn't telling them all she knew.
"Saint John just left with one of our helicopters on the way to the airport. He said you all would be joining him in just a moment and that you were going after Hawke." This time speaking directly to Michael, she said, "he claimed you decided it was best we start as soon as possible and for you to have me arrange transportation and an agent to meet him there."
\A/
Sanjar rapped against the table again. "What is it?" he demanded. "Tell me or I swear I'll kill you!" he threatened, letting his anger and irritation take charge over his emotions.
Hawke remained silent, unfearing. Barely contained anger boiled up inside him though. He had been mocked and spat upon but what infuriated him the most were the cruel insults that had been made over every wrong choice he'd ever made, his morals and values, his country, his family. For his bad behavior he'd already received many slaps, punches, bloodied knuckles, and having his hands cuffed tightly behind his back again. The cold, now bloody and sticky metal bit into his flesh, pinching it and only adding to his sour mood.
"You will help me, Hawke, whatever it takes. By the time I'm done with you, you'd die for me."
"Not likely."
"Take him back to his cell," Sanjar ordered his men sternly. "Now! Before I decided to kill him right here."
Snatching him up, the muscular man hauled Hawke to his feet, giving him a forceful shove forward and back to his cell.
Staggering a little, he limped forward, favoring his right leg.
"Starting to feel a little pain are you?" the henchman jeered. "If you were better behaved maybe you wouldn't hurt so badly."
Stumbling again, this time intentionally, he stopped, that guard almost bumping into him. Using the moment to his advantage, Hawke pulled away, yanking his handcuffed hands out of the guard's grip and knocking his feet out from under him.
As the guard dropped to the floor, Hawke skittered away with a kind of loping limp towards Airwolf.
Only seconds later, Sanjar noticed the sudden ruckus and sent his men after the escaping prisoner.
Gunshots rung out through the air, empty shells hitting the concrete floor continuously as the multitude of men sprang up and into action.
Pulling the pilot's side door open, Hawke climbed inside, bullets riddling the sides of the helicopter as he did so. Ducking out of sight and quietly climbing out the other side, Hawke made his way out of the building and out into the open.
"He's inside," one man told his superior even as the group surrounded the big black helicopter.
The knowing smirk fell from Sanjar's face. "No, he figured it out, he's going to find the real one. I told JahAngir his fake look a like wouldn't work."
"It's a perfect copy," one argued.
"If it were a perfect copy he might've fallen for it. If it were, we wouldn't need the real Airwolf."
Exhausted, Hawke finally located where they had been hiding Airwolf and started to clamber un until a rough hand on his shoulder told him it wasn't going to be that easy. It pulled him out hard, throwing him to the ground and leaving him to Sanjar's mercies.
"How stupid do you think I am? I always knew that sad remake wouldn't fool you. I didn't think you would actually try something as foolish as to attempt escaping. Look around you! You are so greatly outnumbered. I should shoot you for your stupidity. Luckily for you, I'd prefer not to have anymore dead bodies to clean up."
\A/
Saint John shifted uncomfortably in his seat. The sixteen hour flight wouldn't normally be his favorite thing to do, but the possibility of his younger brother's fate depending on him, the trip was unbearable. If he had Airwolf at least he would have something to do piloting her, and he could get there faster, but he didn't have her and he was just going to have to live with that. Maybe String was able to get away, delayed by some other reason other than being held captive by the Iranians, he hoped, he also knew that that was likely. He would have to make contact somehow. For all he knew, Airwolf could be on her way to take over a small country of choice right now, or String could be stranded somewhere with a very damaged aircraft and nothing to eat or drink, miles away from any friendly civilization, or possibly, Airwolf didn't even exist anymore. Could String have gotten in so far over his head that it cost him his life? He definitely knew that was possible when he went in.
No, he told himself. String may be in a bind, he would buy that, maybe even a little worse for wear, but he was not dead, he just wasn't.
The stewardess came by offering him a drink.
He accepted, sipping it absently as his thoughts raced. He had to come up with a plan. Airwolf in the hands of the Iranians was bad news, but if they somehow, by brainwashing or torture, got him to crack, to work for them, all hell was likely to break loose.
\A/
"Momma Mia! Saint John too?" Dominic exclaimed. It wasn't enough that String was most likely being held captive in a middle eastern country halfway around the world, but now Saint John was going to end up joining him if he wasn't careful.
"What are we going to do now?"
"Caitlin," Lauren addressed embarrassedly entering the room. "Could you come here for a minute?"
"Sure, what is it?" she asked as she followed Michael's white clad assistant down the hall.
"I was watching Chance as requested and he fell asleep a while ago. But then he woke up crying about twenty minutes ago and hasn't stopped since. Nothing I do will make him quit.
"Want Daddy!" Chance wailed as they came into the room.
"Shh… I Know, honey. I want him too," she coaxed, gathering him up into her arms. "He'll be back soon. Uncle Saint John went to get him back."
He quieted for the briefest of moments, eyelids drooping, then his fussy fit began all over again. Fat tear drops rolling down his cheeks as he choked up heart wrenching cries.
He missed String, Caitlin thought miserably, she missed String, but this wasn't the usual fussiness he periodically got. There was something more. This was something more pain filled rather than he was just missing his dad.
