CHAPTER 6

"What must I do to make you understand?" Sanjar interrogated, "Soon your helicopter's technology wil no longer be so special. I've got specialists taking it apart as we speak. Hawke, if you don't act soon and give me some reason to spare you, you will no longer be needed."

"I'm not feeling too needed right now," he growled.

"Would you like me to just kill you now and get it over with?"

"It might be preferable."

"Your sarcasm is not appreciated, and I wouldn't suggest you talking like that or you'll soon find yourself dead."

"Like I said, that would probably be preferable," he replied coldly.

"Fine. If that is what you wish. I have your helicopter and all its technology. What more do I need?"

"You know you can't fly her."

"Then I will learn. Like you, Hawke, my resources are expendable."

He brought up the gun, lining it up for an instantly fatal head shot.

Hawke remained unflinching.

\A/

Saint John gathered the very few belongings he had with him and started to file off the plane with the other passengers. Glancing down at the information Marella had given to him and started heading up to the small café at the airport terminal where he was to meet the FIRM agent.

Taking a seat and looking at the unfamiliar menu, he searched for something that at least looked vaguely pronounceable.

"May I sit?" a dark haired, dark skinned attractive woman asked, gesturing towards the chair in front of him.

He shrugged. "Sure, I guess."

She smiled as she gingerly sat down. "You look a little lost," she said finally breaking the silence that had settled over them.

"Yeah, more than a little actually."

"I thought so." She took a few seconds to analyze his accent, his appearance, then finally decided to chance it. "You know Michael?"

\A/

Saint John nodded in understanding.

"You should stay with me," she suggested. "It is too late to do anything tonight, and I think you'll have a challenging time finding another place to stay."

"I need to be doing whatever I can, his time could be running out."

"Rest," she advised. "Getting in and out without getting caught will be no easy feat and you'll need your strength."

He started to object, but she quickly broke in again.

"I have a nice guest room you can stay in and you can leave at first light in the morning, but it would be better for both of you if you wait."

"How would it benefit both of us?" he asked skeptically.

"You would do well to have some much needed sleep after your long flight."

"And my brother?"

"Sanjar tends to be pretty active at night, so you're more likely to get caught, and if he finds out you were coming in as a rescue attempt, especially if he finds out you two are brothers, things won't be pretty, and that is if either of you survives."

\A/

Sanjar's fingers tightened around the gun. "You're really going to just let me kill you?"

Hawke continued to sit perfectly still and silent.

"Fine. If you want to be dead so badly I can at least grant you that wish."

The shot rang out clear, shattering the air then lodging firmly into the wall. The second was a direct hit straight through the temple, thick blood trickling down from his forehead and the fatal gunshot wound.

A guard outside the door grimaced. He knew Hawke had it coming, he just wouldn't back down, but he had to admit, Hawke had spunk, bravery and courage to the end. Too bad the end had to be this way, he thought. For the valor he showed he at least deserved to die with some dignity.

\A/

Tossing from side to side, Saint John tried to get some rest as the agent had advised, but sleep continuously evaded him, concern for his brother constantly plaguing him.

So this is what I put him through for sixteen dreadful years, he thought bitterly, what a bloody nightmare. I think I had the easier job and I was the prisoner.

Rolling over again, he attempted to get at least a little sleep.

Down a short narrow hall, he heard quiet footsteps, someone was up and moving around already, a quiet voice indistinctly heard in the distance.

Singing - the words he didn't know, the language unfamiliar, but the melody was calming, reassuring its faint melodic whisper a comfort, soothing. Gradually it faded away as he at last succumbed to a light sleep.

It was hours before he woke again, this time to warm sunshine filtering through the above window and a comforting hand resting over his own.

"I see you're finally awake," she smiled warmly. "Didn't sleep well, huh?"

"Not for a while," he admitted.

"String - he is your brother? The one being held captive?"

"Yes. How'd you-"

"You kept calling for him in your sleep," she explained. "If there is any possibility of him coming back, you will be able to do it. You have much determination."

He half grinned sheepishly at the comment.

"He is the one with much dedication."

She nodded although not completely understanding.

"Breakfast is ready. Should come and eat."

'Thank you, I appreciate it, I really do, but I need to get going."

"If you must," she conceded. "If you can, come back by this way. There are many unfriendly working for Sanjar. I can give you and your brother a place to stay and hide until it is safe enough to leave."

"Thank you again."

"And stay away from the any public places - hospitals, parks, anything," she warned. "And, Saint John…"

"Yes?"

"Be careful."