Opportunities

Title: “Opportunities”
Author: ddrake
Fandom(s): Airwolf
Genre (general, hetero or slash) gen
Summary: Opportunities are where you find them
Warnings: language
Notes: Fourth story in the “Journey into Darkness” universe.
Acknowledgments: I would like to thank Enfleurage for her input – any errors that remain are mine.
Airwolf (unfortunately) isn't mine. Characters and settings belong to their creators. No profit to be made from this story

“Opportunities”

Sitting at the kitchen counter waiting for the others, Michael tugged at the collar of his flightsuit. *St. John's flightsuit,* he reminded himself. He was wearing St. John's because Mike Rivers's was too tight, and something in him had rebelled at the thought of even trying on Locke's.

The agent had to admit that his current discomfort actually had little to do with the fit of the garment. It had a great deal more to do with his doubts whether he really should be wearing it.

He wanted to be a part of the Airwolf crew. Flying with Hawke and Caitlin filled a void in his life that he hadn't known existed. He enjoyed the time spent behind Airwolf's engineering console, but he couldn't help but wonder if he was the best choice for the position, or if he was only being selfish.

Beyond his personal desires, Michael had pushed Hawke into accepting him as engineer partly so he would be there to keep Caitlin safe, but there was the strong possibility he might be more of a liability than an asset. Given a rifle or an automatic, he was as good a shot as anyone. That wasn't a concern.

Hand-to-hand combat was another matter entirely. His knee wasn't the problem; he might pay for it afterwards, but he'd passed the Firm's PT test on that knee more than once. He could run on it, climb or kick if he had to. The problem was his shoulder. There were things he simply couldn't do with that arm. Ever something as basic as Karate or Judo was out. He had neither the strength or the range of motion for either.

Hawke came down from the loft, interrupting his musings. The pilot grabbed the pot and poured himself a coffee before perching on one of the other stools. He raised an eyebrow. Lips twisted in a grin. “If that suit is too tight, I'll go find you one of Dom's.”

Michael realized he was still pulling at the collar. He scowled at the suggestion and made a conscious effort to stop fidgeting. “This will be fine.”

The other man eyed him over his coffee cup. “What's bugging you?”

It didn't surprise him that the pilot had picked up on his mood. “Hawke...” he began, trying to find the right words with which to offer to withdraw. He was interrupted when Caitlin joined them, her hair still slightly damp from the shower.

Hawke glanced his way, waiting for him to continue. “Later,” Michael told him. The agent knew that his wife would argue for him to continue as engineer, if only out of loyalty. He would wait until he was alone with Hawke to discuss it.

Caitlin sat down beside him. She picked a banana off the counter and began to peel it. “Do you think Zeus is going to try something?”

That was the other matter weighing on Michael's mind. The Firm's director had returned from his trip to Washington and had called the satellite phone the night before to set up a meeting. The location Zeus had chosen was an interesting one. Red Star.

It had been rebuilt after Moffet's attack. The Firm had used it as a test facility for several years, then had leased it to one of their sub-contractors. Michael had thought that the contractor was still using it, but a quick call to the Admiral had revealed that the company had recently gone out of business and the facility was empty.

“I'm not sure what Zeus is up to.” At one time Michael wouldn't have trusted the man as far as he could throw him, but that had been before he learned that Zeus had tried to warn St. John about Jason Locke . Now, he wasn't entirely sure what to think.

“Well, if he has any surprises for us, we're got one or two for him.” Hawke poured himself a second cup of coffee.

That was something of an understatement. Zeus had no idea that Hawke was alive. He expected Caitlin to be flying Airwolf. If Zeus and the committee were planing something, that might give them an edge to use against him.

-*-

They were intentionally early for the scheduled meeting. Hawke made a low pass over the complex, then hovered above the control center. Michael ran the scans. “Nobody here but us,” he concluded. If Zeus had set some trap for them, it was well hidden.

Hawke set Airwolf down in front of the building. He glanced back over his shoulder. “Think we should take a look around?” They had nearly an hour before Zeus was due.

In answer, Michael pulled off his helmet and climbed from the back of the helicopter. His gaze swept across the buildings, settling on the glass-fronted control center.

“You okay?” Hawke had come up beside him without him noticing.

There was no real way to answer that. While he might not remember it, he had nearly died here. Too many of his people *had* died here. “Yeah,” he said, finally.

Hawke's eyebrow registered his opinion of that, but he didn't argue the point. “Looks like the Firm's contractors pulled out of here pretty quick.”

There was trash left scattered everywhere, the occasional piece of battered equipment. “John said that they just walked away and abandoned the place.” Michael tried one of the doors, and was surprised to find it was unlocked. He stared at it for a moment, considering. He glanced back at the pilot. “Hawke, you should stay here with Airwolf.”

The pilot looked as if might say something, but didn't. He nodded.

Michael opened the door and went in, pushing his way past a pair of bags of shredded paper that had been left stacked in the entryway. He slowly climbed the stairs to the second level.

The control room was much as he remembered it. There were fewer consoles, more empty space. It appeared some of the computer equipment had been removed. Michael glanced up, hoping that the ceiling tiles were more fire-resistant than the old ones had been. He heard hesitant footsteps behind him and turned. “Hawke send you looking for me?”

Caitlin shook her head. “No. I wanted to see where...” Her voice trailed off, and he was certain he saw her shudder. As she stepped to his side, he slipped his arm around her. He could feel her tremble.

Michael wondered for a moment where he would be if Moffet had never turned on them. What direction his life would have taken, what he would be doing. There was a part of him that wished he did remember, if only to know if there was anything he could have done differently. If there was any way he could have prevented the destruction. His lips brushed Caitlin's hair. At least one good thing had ultimately come out of that disaster.

“How can you come back here?”

He wouldn't have, if Zeus hadn't requested it. He hadn't know all of the Red Star staff, but some had been his own people. Some had been friends. Dave Myers. Shelia Moss. Jim Higgins. At one time, he had known all the names, even those of the technicians he had never actually met. “That which doesn't kill you makes you stronger.” Somehow, the quote seemed oddly appropriate.

The radio at his belt squawked before Caitlin could reply. “We've got company coming. About ten minutes out,” Hawke warned.

Michael and Caitlin joined Hawke back at Airwolf. Caitlin ducked into the rear seat, where she could remain out of sight, and Hawke pulled on a helmet, lowering the shaded visor. Michael leaned in the open door. “Zeus?”

“Sure looks like it.” Caitlin checked the scans. “One car. Thermal is showing just the driver.”

The agent found it intriguing that Zeus was alone, without even a driver. Michael turned, raising a hand to shield his eyes from the sun. He could see the cloud of dust approaching, a cloud that resolved into a long black Cadillac as it neared. The car pulled to a halt in front of them, and Zeus emerged, his dark suit glaringly misplaced against the sandy, stony backdrop.

“Zeus.” Michael nodded a cautious greeting.

“Michael.” For the moment, the director held his ground. He looked toward Airwolf. “I come bearing a message for your wife.”

“What's that?”

“Captain Rothman would like to thank her for her assistance.”

Rothman was the leader of Zebra Squad. “It wasn't Caitlin who shot down that helicopter.”

Zeus was usually good at hiding his reactions, but Michael saw a momentary flash of surprise register on the man's features. “Oh?”

“You told me that if I retrieved Airwolf, the helicopter would be returned to my control. I assume that includes my choice of crew?”

The director hesitated, perhaps considering his answer. “I suppose it does.”

Michael allowed himself the thinnest of smiles. “Perhaps you'd like to meet my pilot?” Not waiting for an answer, he glanced over his shoulder at Airwolf and gave a slight nod. Looking back toward Zeus, he could hear the soft sound as the pilot's door open behind him.

The agent watched Zeus as Hawke came forward to join them, lowered visor still concealing his features. He stopped beside Michael and removed the helmet.

If Zeus had shown surprise before, this time his reaction was closer to that of shock. He recovered his composure quickly. “I'll be damned. I thought you were dead.” His gaze turned accusingly on Michael. “Did you know?”

“No.” Michael scowled. “Another of Locke's secrets.”

The Director eyed Hawke. “Are you willing to fly for the Firm?”

“I'm willing to fly for Michael.”

Zeus snorted. “I guess some things never change.” He looked toward Michael. “I imagine you want your division back?”

Michael shook his head. “Actually, I've changed my mind about that. I want Airwolf, and I want the paperwork taken care of to bring Hawke back to the land of the living. That's all.”

“I suppose that can be arranged.” Zeus folded his arms. “You're going to need a place to keep her. I'm sure you realize the Lair has been compromised.”

Michael was certain that the Director had something in mind. “Obviously.”

“How would you feel about keeping her here?”

“Here?” Michael tried to keep the surprise off of his own face, and doubted if he had been successful.

“Here,” Zeus confirmed. “Red Star.” He sighed. “Let's not play games, Michael. You knew where the Lair was, I knew where it was. It served your purposes and mine that we all pretended that we didn't. Now, Airwolf needs a new home, and I can offer you this facility. It's out of the way, and yet close enough to Thousand Oaks to be convenient. Furthermore, it's probably the last place anyone would ever expect you to stash Airwolf.” Zeus had the grace to look just a bit uncomfortable at the last.

Michael looked over at Hawke, who shrugged. “Can I get back to you on that?”

The Director nodded. “In the mean time... The helicopter Horn's men were flying. They got it on the ground relatively intact. I'd like you to take a look at it.” He glanced toward the pilot. “You, too, Hawke.”

“Was it Russian?” Hawke asked.

“French,” Michael answered, before the Director could. “Looked a lot like an Eurocopter Fennec.”

Zeus gave a nod of agreement. “We believe so.”

The French developing a heavily armed, heavily armored helicopter. One that had somehow found it's way into the hands of John Bradford Horn. More problems that the world didn't need. Michael wanted a closer look at it. He was sure Hawke would, as well. “Where is it?”

“It hasn't been moved from where they auto-rotated it in. Zebra Squad is guarding the site.”

Hawke shrugged. “So let's go look at it.” He turned and headed back toward Airwolf.

For a moment, Michael didn't move. Was Hawke really intending to invite Zeus to go with them, or did he intend to leave the Director standing there? He chanced a quick glance at Zeus, who appeared no less certain than he was.

As he pulled the cockpit door open, Hawke looked back toward the other two men. “Well, are you two coming or not?”

*That answered that.* Michael followed the Director back to the aircraft. He settled into the rear jump seat beside Caitlin as Hawke helped Zeus into the co-pilot's seat. Caitlin passed a spare helmet forward.

As he half-listened to Hawke explain some of Airwolf's capabilities and controls to the Director, Michael realized the beauty of Hawke's invitation. If Zeus was on the up-and-up, this would serve as a show of their trust and appreciation. On the other hand, if he wasn't, then having him on board would make it considerably more difficult for Zeus to spring any sort of nasty surpise on them.

The flight to the Nevada test range where Redwolf had been developed passed relatively quickly. Much to Michael's amazement, the usually reclusive Hawke was being quite social, pointing out the occasional landmark or bit of interesting scenery to Zeus.

For the most part, the Director seemed to enjoy the flight. The exception to that came when Hawke dipped down almost to the deck, keeping Airwolf low enough to stay off Air Force radar. Judging from the sudden change in the pitch of his voice, Zeus had not appreciated that particular diversion. Michael knew how he felt. He had only just begun to enjoy the low-level, high-speed flights Airwolf was capable of.

As they neared the site, Zeus radioed ahead and alerted Zebra Squad that they were coming. The men backed off as Airwolf landed. Caitlin stayed with the aircraft as Michael and Hawke went to examine the wreckage.

The helicopter had come down hard. The skids had collapsed, and the tail rotor was shattered. The smell of burnt wiring hung in the air, and it appeared that the onboard fire suppression system had gone off, doubtlessly preventing a more extensive fire. Michael found a foothold and pulled himself up to examine the rotor. Judging from the damage, Hawke's rounds had chewed into the base of it, in nearly the exact spot Michael had suggested.

Hawke had climbed up to join him, and Michael pointed out the gouges where the rounds had struck. “Good shooting.”

The pilot tapped a knuckle on one of the windscreens. “Going to assume this is bulletproof.”

“Most likely.” Michael climbed down. He pulled the pilot's door open, and ran his hand along the edge of the cockpit doorway. “Some sort of composite. The Firm's lab should be able to identify it.”

Hawke brushed away broken glass, presumably from some of the instruments, then slid into the pilot's seat. “Set up for two people. Pilot and co-pilot. No provision for passengers.” The rear compartment was closed off by a bank of electronics.

Michael went around to the other side and climbed into the co-pilot's seat. His eyes scanned the instruments, then looked up, checking the rest of the cockpit. “Notice anything?” he asked Hawke.

“What?”

“The fit and finish. Airwolf was a one-off. Everything was custom built, hand-formed or adapted from another helicopter. It shows.” Michael gestured toward the windscreen, and the vinyl-wrapped panels that surrounded it. “These are pre-formed parts. This is a production model.”

Hawke looked at him, twisted his lips into a grimace. “You mean there are more of them.”

“I'd bet on it.”

“Great.”

The two men climbed out of the helicopter and joined Zeus, who was waiting nearby. “Well?” he demanded.

“Highly likely that it's a production model, not a one-off,” Michael told him.

Zeus nodded. “That's what the Firm's experts thought. I was hoping you'd disagree.”

Michael scowled. “Surely we have contacts within French Intelligence?”

“We do,” Zeus allowed. “Unfortunately, it doesn't appear this is something they built.” The Director hesitated, his eyes flicking to Hawke as if gauging how much he should say in front of the pilot. “There was a theft of a number of airframes.”

Hawke's eyes narrowed. “How many?”

“From what we can find out, a dozen.”

“Great.”

Michael knew what the pilot was thinking. Whoever had stolen the airframes had undoubtedly been involved in the modifications, and if Horn's possession of one was any indication, it appeared that they might be for sale to the highest bidder. Hawke had had his hands full dealing with one. What if the next time they went up against several? The agent gestured toward the downed aircraft. “What about the pilots?” Talking to them might reveal where they had gotten the helicopter.

Zeus shook his head. “They refused to surrender. Zebra Squad had no choice.”

Given that the helicopter and it's pilots had inflicted heavy casualties on the squad, Michael suspected that the men might not have been given much chance to surrender. As useful as it might have been to talk to them, Michael wasn't sure he could fault Zebra Squad for that.

“We ready to head back?” Hawke asked.

The others agreed, and they returned to Airwolf. Zeus was dropped off at Red Star, with a promise that Michael would contact him shortly to let him know if they wanted to use the facility.

-*-

Hawke brought Airwolf down gently in the tiny clearing behind the cabin, As he shut the systems down, he twisted his neck to look back at Michael, who had re-assumed the engineer's position when they left Zeus off at Red Star. “Can I get you to give me a hand with the netting?”

“I'll do it,” Caitlin offered, as she pulled off her helmet.

“It's okay, we've got it.” Michael got out, retrieving the folded camouflage net from where they had left it.

Caitlin's gaze flicked from one man to the other, and gave them a shake of her head and a sigh. “Guy talk. I'll go start dinner.”

“Thanks, Cait.” Hawke watched her go. He took one end of the net from Michael, and secured it to the side of the helicopter. “What do you think of Zeus's offer?”

”Red Star? I don't know. It's a good location, and all the resources we need are available. If we trust Zeus, it's a viable option.”

Hawke stopped what he was doing, and looked over at Michael. “How do you feel about being out there on a regular basis?”

Michael took a moment to finish tying down the section of netting, using the time to collect his thoughts. “It's not my favorite place in the world,” he answered, finally. “But I'd hate to pass up an ideal hiding spot just because I'm uncomfortable there.” He shrugged. “And as Zeus not-so-tactfully mentioned, anyone who knows what happened would never expect that I would be a part of hiding Airwolf at Red Star.”

Hawke nodded, and finished hanging the camouflage netting. Done, he joined Michael, and they walked around the cabin, onto the porch. Hawke grabbed a chair, and gestured with his thumb toward a second. “What was it you wanted to talk about this morning that you didn't want to say in front of Cait?”

The agent dropped heavily into the other chair. “I told you that when it came to Airwolf, Cait and I were a package deal. I'd like to rescind that.”

Hawke looked up sharply. “You don't want Cait flying with me?”

Michael hadn't considered that Hawke might take his statement that way. “No. I'm not saying that. I'm suggesting that you'll want to find someone else for the engineering position.”

“So *you* don't want to fly with me?” It didn't *quite* sound like an accusation. .

The agent shook his head. “I just don't think I'm the best person for the job.”

“Why?”

Michael had hoped that Hawke would just take his statement at face value, and not question him about it, but then, he knew the pilot better than that. He flexed his right hand, the motion automatic, a relic of years of physical therapy. He wasn't even consciously aware he was doing it. “If you and Cait get in a jam... Hawke, I'm not going to be much use to you in a fight.”

The pilot raised an eyebrow, humor glinting in his eyes. “True. I'm sure Dom would've kicked your ass. Caitlin probably would, too, if she had half a mind to.”

“Your point, Hawke?”

“I don't pick crew members based on their ability to kick butt -- or to save mine.” He propped a foot on the porch railing. “Although I do seem to remember you dragging my sorry ass out of the line of fire when the Hughes started shooting up your house. I didn't see you having much of a problem then.”

Michael snorted. “Adrenalin is a wonderful drug.”

Hawke laughed. “Michael, you have other skills. You were involved in the design and construction of Airwolf. There are things you know about that helicopter that even I don't know.”

“None of which does you or Cait much good if you two get into a situation I can't get you out of,”
Michael insisted.

“As I said, I don't pick crew--” Hawke looked over at the agent, eying him with an intensity that left Michael feeling vaguely uncomfortable. “This isn't about your ability to hold your own in a fight.”

“It's not?” Michael would have sworn that it was.

“It's about what happens if for some reason neither Caitlin nor I can fly Airwolf.”

Michael forced himself to consider that. Perhaps Hawke was right. Perhaps that was at the true root of his reservations. “Possibly,” he admitted. “But in any event, you're only making my point. If we bring in someone like Rivers, it gives you someone you can count on in a fight. And you gain another pilot.”

Hawke's eyes turned toward the lake, doubtlessly to the eagle circling above it. “How long has it been?”

“How long has what been?”

Hawke glanced back toward the agent. “How long has it been since you've flown?”

Michael wasn't expecting the question. He thought back. When he had taken over the Deputy Director's position, the Firm had frowned on the idea of him flying himself around. He had been assigned a number of assistants who flew, and there had been more important battles to fight with the committee. Then had come Red Star, the fractured skull and the double vision that would have grounded him anyways. Somehow, he had never really thought about it after that. “Thirteen, maybe fourteen years.”

“It's like riding a bicycle. You never really forget. You'd be surprised how quickly it comes back.”

“You're not suggesting...?”

Hawke shrugged. “I taught Dom and Cait to fly Airwolf. No reason I can't teach you.”

Flying had never been to Michael what it was to Hawke. It had only been a means to an end, a convenient way to get from one place to another. There were other questions as well. Michael wasn't sure whether he had either the strength or the dexterity to fly a helicopter. He glanced down at his arm. “I'm not sure I can.”

“I don't think it's going to be a problem.” Hawke stood, “Are you willing to find out?”

Was he? He wanted to be with Caitlin. He wanted to be able to protect her. Beyond that, he wanted the rush that came with time spent in the supersonic helicopter. Michael rose to join Hawke. “Okay. Let's find out.”