CHAPTER 2

Ronnie's Diner

Los Angeles, California

12:15 PM

Dressed in a casual outfit of jeans and a short sleeved purple cotton shirt, Hawke walked into the diner, followed by his nephew, and scanned the room for any familiar faces. Seeing none, he took a booth by the door where he would easily be spotted and ordered himself a drink while waiting on his unknown visitor.

Ten minutes came and went, and still no one had showed. Le was well on his way to having scarfed down an entire hamburger and an order of fries and he was beginning to get irritated when his day suddenly plummeted from bad to terrible.

Looking as good as ever, the gorgeous deadly Lexa Cole entered the diner, immediately saw him, and took a seat across from Hawke.

"Sorry I'm late, you know how LA traffic is. Ridiculous. I think every person in the city must go to lunch at the exact same time. It took me an hour and forty five minutes to get here from Fresno."

In that case it was amazing she wasn't sitting in a jail cell at this very moment, he thought; that trip should have taken at least three and a half hours, and if traffic was bad even longer. But then again, Lexa was no normal person, and her driving he had no doubt was as fast paced, crazy, and hazardous as the rest of her life.

"So anyway, I've been here and there, FIRM work you know, kind of picked up a side job with the CIA transporting things, and I've heard up plenty of rumors along the way. I thought there might actually be something to this one though." Out of a perfectly matching bag just large enough to fit a 9mm and a makeup bag, which was probably about what she had in there, she pulled out a short chain with a sort of rounded rectangular engraved piece of metal attached to it.

Dog tags.

Saint John's dog tags.

"I though you might want this."

"Where--"

"Before you start asking a bunch of question, I don't know much. I don't even know for sure he's alive; to be perfectly honest, the chances of that are pretty slim. You know how the whole dog tag thing works, and like you see, I only have the one. He might've been hurt or sick, or maybe it just got snagged on something. Anything could've happened. The person I got this from said that more information would cost though. As for who he is, I really couldn't say; he didn't show me any credentials, a mercenary I believe for whoever is willing to pay."

"How much?"

"A couple grand. He said he would contact me in a week to see if I was still interested and that if I was I'd better have the money with me."

Hawke eyed her suspiciously for several long minutes. She was on his side, for now, and he didn't think she'd just take the money and run, but he could necessarily say the same thing for her informant, and he wasn't sure he was ready to trust her completely either. But if the information was true and he might actually get a better clue to his brother's fate, then it would be worth it no matter what the price, if he got it. He couldn't abandon Saint John either though; he was family, the only real family he had, and there was no way in hell he could simply give up on finding him.

"Fine," he said, reaching into his shirt pocket and pulling out the roll of money. "I want anything he's got."

Lexa took the money and stowed it in her purse, dropping her own twenty on the table. "Keep the change. Sorry I can't stay longer, but I've got to be in Richmond by tomorrow and I don't think I'd pass Airport security so I'll have to drive." She offered him a sympathetic kind of half smile and pulled on her motorcycle helmet. "Don't worry, I won't forget about your brother. See you next week? Same time, same place."

\A/

The Jet Ranger rested hidden in a cluster of trees as Hawke finished unloading the back of the helicopter. "... And you've got the fishing poles. I think that's everything. What do you think?"

"I think I'm ready. Which way do we start going?"

He shrugged. "Whichever you want, we're exploring. You lead the way and I'll worry about find the way back."

"Anywhere?"

"Anywhere. If I remember correctly there's a stream back that ways somewhere," he said pointing, "we could go fishing there if you want. Or, if you're okay with just the food we've packed, there are more hills and mountains to climb the other way. There's plenty to do and see either way you choose, whatever you want."

"Can we really climb the mountains? Sounds fun, let's go that way."

"Lead on."

Le set off down a barely visible overgrown path that looked like it hadn't been used in years, leading the way through the thick scrub, getting more and more excited every rock they passed.

"I think we're almost there," Le called out from his latest perch at the top of a rock about four feet up.

"We've still got a while to go before we reach any real climbing. If you'll relinquish the lead for a little while though, I can show you the perfect place to stop for dinner and camp out for the night."