Second Chances Part 1 - A Second Chance

Second chances Part 1 by Bethhawke

Chapter 2

6 Months later - November 1984

Stringfellow Hawke poured himself a glass of wine and sank into a comfortable chair by the fire. He sipped his wine, closed his eyes and sighed. It had been a long and tiring week at Santini Air, with their mechanic on vacation and Caitlin only able to answer phones and do paperwork due to a sprained wrist.
Dominic had dropped Hawke back at his cabin half an hour earlier and after a quick shower and change of clothes he was ready to relax. He had the whole weekend to himself to do whatever he liked. Sleep first, he thought, then tomorrow a long walk in the woods with Tet. As though sensing his master's thoughts, Tet lifted his head to look at Hawke and was rewarded with a scratch behind the ears. The last few weekends had been peaceful but lonely since Beth had written to him breaking off their relationship. He'd played around with Roxy, a country singer whose concert they had been filming, for a couple of days but apart from that he had chosen to be alone whenever his commitments permitted it.
Hawke was just drifting off to sleep when a distant sound caused him to open his eyes and tilt his head to one side, listening. As the helicopter came closer he recognised it as belonging to the Firm. No doubt it's Archangel with a very important, save the world job, he thought irritably. Just what he didn't need. He was too tired and the glass of wine he had just drunk had made him slightly light-headed, reminding him that he hadn't eaten since breakfast. He stood up and walked over to the bar where he poured himself another glass of wine and laid out two more glasses for his 'guests'. Michael Coldsmith-Briggs III, code name Archangel, would not be alone. He would have a beautiful, intelligent young woman, dressed all in white flying him in, since he was unable to fly himself any more.
The cabin door was opened by Marella who stepped aside to allow her boss to enter first. Leaning on a cane and limping slightly, Archangel walked over to the bar and sat down. The black patch over the left lens of his glasses was in sharp contrast to the white suit he was wearing and gave him a debonair look. Marella gracefully followed him and looked appreciatively at the label on the wine bottle before pouring a glass for Archangel and then one for herself. Archangel took a sip of wine, savouring the bouquet, before speaking.
“Good evening Hawke, I have a job for you”
“What a surprise,” said Hawke sarcastically from behind the bar, “I didn't think this was a social visit.”
Michael ignored him and continued.
“Do you remember Elizabeth?” he asked.
“Elizabeth?” Hawke frowned, “No I don't think so. One of yours I presume,” he said, referring to Michael's many female assistants.
“Well...Yes,” Michael looked a little awkward, “and one of yours too”
“One of mine? What the hell's that supposed to mean?” Hawke was too tired to play word games with Archangel.
Marella glared at Hawke, ever defensive of her boss.
“Be nice, Stringfellow. I think you'll want to take this job.”
Hawke turned and glared back at Marella. “Start explaining now or leave. I'm tired, hungry and half way to being drunk and I don't feel like company.”

Marella put her wine glass back on the bar and turned her stool so that she was facing Hawke.
“The only person who gets away with calling her Elizabeth is Michael. She insists that everyone else calls her Beth; in fact most people don't even realise her name is Elizabeth. I presume that includes you, Stringfellow, or you would have recognised the name. After all it was only about six weeks ago when you last saw her.”
Hawke stared at Marella, his expression unreadable. After a few moments of silence he asked quietly, “Is she OK?” His voice was gruff with concern.
Michael took over the briefing. “She will be. She was working undercover and was kidnapped. They didn't treat her very well but none of her injuries are life threatening. Right now she needs somewhere safe to stay.”
“Where was her protection, her backup? How could you let her get captured? And what the hell was she doing working for you anyway?” The questions stumbled from Hawke before he had time to compose himself.
“I don't have time to go into it now. Marella will brief you fully. My ride is here,” he answered abruptly and before Hawke could ask any more questions, Michael hurried out of the cabin and towards a white helicopter that was just landing.

Marella stood up and motioned for Hawke to follow her.
“Beth is here and we need to get her inside as quickly as possible. I'll need your help, I had to sedate her for the journey.”
They jogged over to the chopper and Hawke lifted Beth carefully out of the back seat. She was wrapped in a white blanket and was not quite concious. She wasn't heavy, in fact she felt much too light and he carried her with ease into the cabin and straight up the stairs to his bed.
“I'll stay with her until she wakes up,” Marella said when it looked as though Hawke was not going to leave her side. “She will be confused and disorientated when she wakes and may react violently to a man being in the room.”
Hawke was about to protest when the meaning of Marella's words struck home.
“You mean, her kidnappers....they....,” he couldn't finish the sentence and Marella just nodded.
Hawke glanced one more time at Beth, his face full of conflicting emotions, then turned away and went downstairs to sit on the porch in the moonlight.

It was sunrise before Marella finally joined Hawke on the porch.
“She's awake and asking to see you.”
“She know where she is?”
“Yes, even before Tet stuck his nose in her face,” Marella laughed. “That mutt has been by her side all night.”
“Humph, I wondered where he was when I needed him,” Hawke looked out at the lake and said quietly, almost as if to himself, “He was always more protective of her than of me. Whenever we had a fight he would go stand by Beth, as if to protect her from me.”
“Did you fight often?” Marella asked softly.
“Too often. I guess that's why she broke it off.”
“But I thought.. oh never mind, I must have misunderstood.”
“Misunderstood what?” demanded Hawke.
“I thought you two were still together. She certainly implied that you were,” Marella replied.
“She broke it off about a week after she met you and Michael,” Hawke recalled.
“How?” Marella asked.
“A letter, by post to Santini Air. Why?”
“Are you sure it was from her?”asked Marella.
“What are you thinking? That it was forged?” Hawke thought for a moment, then his face turned cold and angry. “Why that son of a ......... Just wait til I get my hands on him.”
Marella had been thinking the same – that Michael had got Hawke out of the picture so that Beth could work for him. Michael was usually a fair man but could be ruthless when necessary.
Hawke walked towards the lake and stood gazing ahead. He would deal with Michael later, right now Beth needed him. He pushed aside his anger, taking in the calming scenery until he felt ready to face her.
Marella could think of nothing to say so went into the cabin and put on a pot of coffee. Hawke came in a few minutes later and paused at the bottom of the stairs. He took a deep, calming breath then slowly climbed the stairs.
Beth was sitting up in bed. Her left wrist was in plaster and her face was covered with cuts and bruises. Hawke didn't even want to think about what other injuries might be hidden beneath the white silk pyjamas she was wearing. Her eyes were closed and the dark circles underneath them stood out against her paler then usual skin.
“Nice pyjamas!” he said with an attempt at a smile. “Not your usual colour though.”
Beth opened her eyes and he cautiously approached the bed. She hadn't spoken and he didn't know what to say. What do you say to someone who has been kidnapped and raped, someone who you loved, who you thought no longer loved you? She saved him from finding the answers by holding out her right hand, inviting him to come closer. He reached out and took her hand in his, sitting on the edge of the bed, not daring to get any closer for fear of scaring her. They sat in silence, a distance between them which he didn't know how to bridge. As usual it was Beth who made the first move, pulling on his hand, dragging his body closer to her. The unexpected movement unbalanced him and he fell into her open arms. That was all it took for her to fall apart; sobbing against his chest, soaking his shirt with her tears.
“I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I couldn't stop him, I wasn't strong enough........”
“Hush, it's over now, you're home....”
“Why didn't you come for me? I thought you would rescue me, it was all that kept me sane...” he held her tighter, rocking her gently, tears in his own eyes. He couldn't understand what she was saying. How could he have rescued her? He didn't know she was missing, how could he? “Why didn't you contact Archangel when you didn't hear from me? I said in the letter that I would be unreachable for two weeks maximum, and I was gone for over a month!”
A sob escaped him as he realised what she was saying. Archangel is going to pay for this, he thought, as he explained as best he could “I never got your letter; at least not the one you thought you sent me. I thought you broke up with me; we did have that big fight.”
When she didn't answer, Hawke pulled away slightly so he could look at her. He brushed a stray lock of hair off her face and kissed her bruised forehead.
“We have a lot to talk about,” he said gently, “but for now I think Marella has made coffee. Feel up to going downstairs?” Beth nodded and with Hawke's help made it down the stairs and onto the sofa. Marella brought them all toast and coffee and they ate the sparse breakfast in silence. Only when they had finished did Marella speak.
“Feel up to getting dressed and answering a few more questions?” Marella had got some information from Beth at the clinic but had needed to sedate her before she had time to get all the information she needed.
Beth just nodded and wearily stood up. “I need a bath first.”
“I can wait, but I don't want you alone in the bathroom, the pain medication you're on is strong, it could make you dizzy. Hawke or I will have to stay close. One of us can wait outside the door.” Although they had both seen her naked, Hawke as her lover, Marella as her doctor, she knew that Beth would value her privacy after her attack.
After a long hot bath Beth wrapped a large fluffy towel around her body. With her arm in plaster she struggled to dry her long thick hair and finally gave up, handing the towel to Hawke along with his comb from the bathroom cabinet. She sat on the bed, her hair dripping onto the covers while he sat behind her and towelled it dry then very gently combed it. It was a tender moment and he realised then just how much he had missed having her around. When her hair was finally tangle free and laying smoothly down her back he had an almost uncontrollable urge to move the curtain of hair aside and nibble at her neck the way he knew she liked. I took all his control to move away, turning his body from her so she wouldn't see his arousal. Clearing his throat, he took an old pair of jeans and a warm plaid shirt out of his wardrobe for her to wear. The jeans had to be turned up and fastened tightly with a belt, which emphasised her small waist and made him realise how much weight she had lost.
“You ready for Marella's briefing?” he asked.
“I guess so,” she sounded reluctant, “best get it over and done with.”
Marella was sitting reading a file and looked up as she heard them coming down the stairs.
“While you two were getting ready I thought I would go through the file again, just in case I 'd missed anything.” Hawke raised an eyebrow at her – Marella never missed anything! “I found a couple of extra pages which I'm sure were not there last time I opened the file.” She handed one sheet to Hawke and the other to Beth.
Hawke read his sheet, his expression unreadable, then handed it to Beth. She recognised it immediately as the letter she had written to String when Michael had asked her to work undercover for him.
She handed it back to him. “It's yours,” she said quietly, then turned to read the page Marella had handed to her.
“It's from Archangel, explaining why he had to deceive us,” she told Hawke, “he suspected that there was a mole in the Firm and needed an outsider to work undercover. You are known to a few of his operatives so he couldn't risk us being seen together until he had found the traitor.”
“And he knew I wouldn't like it,” Hawke said darkly, thinking of another dark haired woman who had once worked for Michael, “But why you anyway? He only met you once.”
Marella answered, “Beth was a cop, and a good one at that. Michael had her investigated, as he does anyone he finds out you're involved with, and was impressed with her file. She was perfect to go undercover as a singer at a club that we think is being used as a cover for terrorist activity. Her personality, the way she dresses, her strong voice and performing experience meant she fitted in without having to do too much acting. Couple all that with her police experience and she was the perfect choice.”
“He could have come to me and explained the situation. There was no need to make me think Beth had ditched me!” Hawke's face was red with anger and Marella was torn between defending her bosses actions and sympathising with Hawke, “When I get my hands on the bastard...” he paused unable to think of a suitable punishment.
The sympathy won over. “He was wrong to do what he did,” Marella told Hawke, “and I will tell him that when he returns.”
“After I knock him across the room!” Hawke muttered. If he was surprised at Marella siding with him he didn't show it.
They sat around the dining table with the file spread out so they could all see it. Beth and Marella had both tied their dark hair back and would have looked quite professional if it hadn't been for Beth's outfit. Hawke idly wondered if Beth wore white when she was working for Michael, although if she was undercover most of time she would be wearing her own clothes. Until the evening before, he had never seen her wear white; her wardrobe was almost entirely black, right down to the sexy lacy underwear. His thoughts were a distraction and he tried hard to concentrate on what Marella was saying, besides, the Beth in his memory seemed far from the frightened young woman sitting beside him.
“Just keep it simple for now Beth, all I need is an outline of what happened, the details can be filled in later when you're ready to talk about it,” Marella was telling the younger woman.
The file had photos of the suspected terrorists and details of their entry into the country. Beth had already identified two of the men as working in the club. Anton Ivanov was working as a barman and Boris Fedoseev as a trainee manager. The Firm suspected that the club was being used to employ Russians who Fedoseev was somehow getting into the country. They also suspected that it was masquerading as a legitimate business that would need to buy equipment, like computers, that they would then modify to use for terrorist activity. What the Firm didn't know was what they were planning.
“He's the one who took me,” Beth said, pointing to the photo of Fedoseev. “He was waiting for me by my car, I didn't see him until it was too late.”
“Can you remember anything else, did he say anything or mention any names or places?” asked Marella.
“No, I think he must have drugged me. The next thing I remember is waking up in a dark room with one hell of a hangover.”
“And then what?” asked Marella when Beth paused.
“And then the questions started, and when I wouldn't answer he'd hit me,” she flinched at the memory of his fist hitting her face.
“What was he asking you?” Marella tried to stay professional, knowing that if she showed any emotion at Beth's responses then Beth would find it harder to stay in control.
“Who I worked for, how much I knew, why was I at the club, did I want to die or just be scarred for life,” her voice was rising, she could feel herself losing it and she paused to compose herself. “Fedoseev was definitely in charge but he wasn't alone. There was Ivanov and another guy who he called Bobby. I never saw Bobby's face, he always wore a ski mask which I thought was a bit odd. I did wonder if he thought I might recognise him.
Hawke interrupted, “Any other clues to his identity? Height, build, accent, birth marks, anything.”
She gave a start as though remembering, then it all went blank again.
“There's something........when you said birth mark. Maybe a scar or something similar but I can't remember what. You know what it's like when you try to recall something but the more you concentrate the worse it gets?” Hawke nodded, “Well it's like that. It's so frustrating, not being able to remember,” she paused to take a deep breath. “It was obvious they knew I was involved with some official organisation, but they weren't sure which. He mentioned the police, the FBI and even the Firm.... I don't think I gave anything away. Archangel had sent me in to gather information on the terrorists but he'd only told me what I needed to know. When I wouldn't or couldn't answer the questions Fedoseev told Bobby to take me away and kill me.” Her voice was flat now, lacking in emotion and Hawke looked at her, worried.
“What's the matter?” Hawke asked her. He wanted to put his arms around her, hold her tight and make it all go away but he knew that was impossible, for now anyway.
“Well obviously he didn't kill me. He blindfolded me, drugged me and took me to a derelict apartment building,” Beth paused again, put her elbow on the table and her head in her right hand, the left hanging limply in her lap having refused a sling.
“What happened next?” Hawke asked, not really wanting the know.
“He kept me for himself. I only got food and water as a reward for 'favours',” she whispered, not raising her head, not wanting to meet his eyes, afraid of what she would see there.
Hawke was watching Beth carefully and realised that she was close to breaking point, only her police training was keeping her under control. He also wasn't sure how much more he wanted to hear just yet, he still hadn't processed what little information he had been given.
“I need a break and Beth, you look tired, why don't you go upstairs and lie down for a bit.” Hawke suggested.
She just nodded, so he took her upstairs and settled her in bed with a glass of water and painkillers for her arm. She took them without argument, then lay on her side and went to sleep almost immediately. Hawke stayed for a few minutes, added a log to the bedroom fire, then went back downstairs to Marella.
“Sorry Hawke, I should have noticed that she was getting tired.”
Hawke shrugged. “I hate seeing her like this. She's normally so strong, so passionate and full of life.”
“Give her time. It's only been a few days and she's in pain. She also has some memory loss which is making her confused.”
“Will she regain the memories?”
“In cases like hers the brain sometimes shuts down as a protective measure. The memories should slowly return as she starts to feel better,” Marella answered, “she'll need you when she starts to remember, but don't be surprised if she rejects you. Rape is always difficult to deal with and she was held captive for the best part of a month.”
Hawke sighed deeply, he didn't want to think about it, it hurt too much. Better to bury it for now, deep inside with his other painful memories, “Anything else I need to know before I try to get some sleep?”
“These men are dangerous and I don't know why they kept her alive when she had no information and could identify them. That's why we need you to keep her safe here. I don't think they know about you.”
“What if they do?” demanded Hawke.
“Maybe you should contact Dominic, have him do a full systems check on Airwolf, just in case we need her.”
“Good idea, but first I'm going to bed.” Hawke looked at Marella and noticed for the first time how tired she looked. “You should try to get some sleep too.” In the bedroom Hawke lay on top of the covers next to Beth, careful not to wake her, and was asleep within minutes.

It was late afternoon when Stringfellow Hawke woke to the sound of voices. He shifted position so that he could hear better and realised that he was listening to Marella talking on the radio.
“.............clothes, make-up and whatever else you think she might need.” Marella was saying.
Hawke couldn't hear the reply but it sounded like another female voice.
Then he heard Marella say, “Tell Archangel to stay away for a few days, Hawke needs time to cool down. Marella out.”
Beth moved slightly beside him and he turned to look at her. She was awake and watching him. He leaned across and kissed her lightly on the lips. After a seconds hesitation she responded and the kiss became passionate. Hawke, suddenly remembering what she had been through, pulled away abruptly. She looked at him and the hurt in her eyes made his stomach turn over. What have I done, he thought. Beth turned away and sat on the edge of the bed, her back to him. He reached out and touched her shoulder but she shrugged him off.
“Beth?” he said, his voice questioning.
She didn't answer, just sat there unmoving.
“I'm sorry,” he said, “I didn't mean to upset you.”
“Then why did you pull away? Do I disgust you that much?”
“Hey!” He gripped her shoulders and turned her around to face him. Tears were falling silently down her cheeks. “I love you, you could never disgust me!”
“Then prove it. You've barely touched me since I arrived. You never used to be able to keep your hands off me!”
“I was trying to give you some space. After what happened I thought you wouldn't want me to touch you,” his voice caught in his throat as he held back tears.
“Just kiss me,” she whispered.
Hawke pulled her down on top of him and kissed her hard. She responded, wrapping herself tightly around him.
They stayed like that until a discreet cough caused them to separate. Marella was standing at the top of the stairs that led to the balcony that served as the only bedroom.
“Dammit Marella! What do you want,” demanded Hawke, annoyed at being disturbed in his own bedroom.
“Sorry Hawke,” Marella's voice was apologetic, “I have to leave. I'll be back in the morning with clothes for Beth, and groceries. Is there anything else you need?” The question was directed at Beth.
“I'll come downstairs with you,” replied Beth. Wiping the back of her hand across her wet cheeks she followed Marella downstairs.
As soon as they left his room, Hawke got out of bed and showered and dressed, and by the time he got downstairs Marella had left.