FF: Footprints On The Street 2/?
Disclaimers an' all in Chapter 1. Yeah, I don't have Ezra's gift of eloquence or Vin's gift of poetry, the speech at the wreath ceremony could be better.
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"And I hear them saying
You'll never change things
And no matter what you do
It's still the same thing
But it's not the world that I am changing
I do this so this world will know
That it will not change me."
The Change
Garth Brooks
Fresh Horses
Capitol Nashville 1995
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Somewhere over North Texas
Wednesday 23 April 1986
The plan -- and even calling it a plan was more glory than it deserved -- hadn't really been much of one. Get in, Grab the kid, Get out, Don't get caught. The storm had been viewed as a plus, anyone with any sense would be taking shelter, thus reducing potential witnesses. Besides, Airwolf had in her existence flown through two hurricanes, a volcanic eruption, and on one occasion to an altitude of 100,000 feet -- the middle reaches of the stratosphere, traditionally the domain of such aircraft as the U-2, SR-71 Blackbird and the Concorde! Plus, they could do a little storm chasing, and perhaps make someone's life easier that worked for the local weather service. Certainly no civilian chopper was going up in this, and the ground-based chasers could only be in one place at a time, and see what was immediately around them. The Lady's radar could cover the entire storm system. Other than that ... firewall the turbos until they'd escaped the storm, then simply navigate around it.
If you want to make God laugh, tell Him your plans. And never believe that twisters 'only' travel northeast. Fortunately, one of Vin's less-horrible foster fathers had been an amateur race-car driver, so Vin knew how to operate a five-point harness. He was still being tossed around to some degree, as the harness had never been intended for use by someone that small. The only reason they weren't dead yet was because the AI program was taking most of the load, computer synapses racing through Airwolf's cybernetic 'brain' faster than Michael and Everett could ever hope to react.
Wind speed ... direction ... three funnel clouds ... two on the ground ... F-4 intensity ... downdraft! She bucked and rocked like a rodeo bull on Saturday night, involuntarily spinning on her axis three complete revolutions. Ohh, that's only fun when I mean to do it ...
"Closest heading that will get us out of this, my dear." Despite Airwolf for all intents and purposes 'flying herself,' Michael wasn't about to take his hands off the controls.
When I find one, I'll take it!
Vin looked across the cockpit. He'd just figured out that the 'voice' he kept hearing in his head was the helicopter itself -- herself -- and that she could think for herself. This was why Caitlin had left Texas, this was what had so thoroughly wrecked Pope County. "She's tryin' her best."
Michael spared a second for a smile. "I'm aware of that, and I am thankful. I suppose we were not expecting quite such fierce opposition. It is almost as if your native soil does not wish to relinquish you."
"Should have treated him better in the first place," Everett chimed in from the back seat. "Michael, microburst!"
Oh, I hate microbursts! Ouch, that hurts! Oh, the Hell with this! Turbos full! And Airwolf aimed her nose at the sky and kicked all of her considerable power into the four turbojets that would give her the boost she needed to escape the storm. Somewhat like the afterburners on a fighter jet, it was a quick way to grab extra power when needed. Unfortunately, just like afterburners, the turbos gulped up an incredible amount of fuel. Airwolf could not go supersonic for an extended period of time, but to get herself and her passengers out of this mess, it was exactly what would do the trick. And the fact that her cabin was pressurized and somewhat temperature-controlled would ensure that visiting the stratosphere would not be unnecessarily uncomfortable.
Cumulonimbus -- the scientific name for what Vin knew as thunderheads -- usually topped out at roughly 60,000 feet. Airwolf knew her personal vertical limit was 40,000 feet over that, all she had to do was get there.
There, that's better. She leveled out at 70,000, looking down at the storm. Everett shook his head. "Well, like Dom said about the hurricane -- for what it's worth, it's a look nobody else will get."
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Haven Island
Caribbean Ocean
Monday 26 May 1986
Memorial Day
Vin stood at the stern of the 61-foot Sea Ray motor yacht, the Defiance. Michael -- 'No, ain't Michael no more, now we's gotta call 'im Quattro. Why's he wanta call hisself after a car?' -- stood nearby, holding a wreath made of flowers, waiting to toss it overboard. They'd all been up at sunrise to raise the flag, and sing the National Anthem. Evie had recited 'In Flanders' Fields,' which Vin kinda-sorta remembered from English class. Quattro had promised that after tossing the wreath into the ocean, the 'serious part' of their Memorial Day observance would be over, and they'd have the rest of the day to relax and celebrate. Evie had spent most of yesterday making cold salads, there were ribs, chicken pieces, steaks, shrimps, scallops and fish marinating in the fridge, crabs, lobsters and clams 'cooling their shells', blissfully unaware of their impending fates once Tye and Everett got a massive fire going back on the beach.
Tet nudged Quattro with his grizzle-gray muzzle, and Vin absently reached over to scratch the bluetick hound's floppy ears. He and the old dog had taken to each other instantly, which apparently pleased Quattro greatly. Vin guessed that as long as Tet was around, Quattro figured nobody would be hassling him for a dog, since he was pretty much the boss around here even though Everett was two years older. The two dozen or so cats Quattro referred to as Hemingways seemed to have come with the island. Evie had told Vin they were called Hemingways because they were all six- or seven-toed. The ones who lived in the house had figured out the can opener, and if three of them worked together, could open the refrigerator. Tet had 'gotten the point,' so to speak, and left them mostly alone.
Quattro stepped forward. "Today is a day of remembrance, for those who have given their lives for our sake. Those who stepped forward when their country called them, who never received the parades when the cease-fire was declared. The fields of stones in Europe; the black wall in Washington. The eternal flames for those unknown. They are only truly dead when they are forgotten, so the last Monday in May has been set aside to make certain they are never forgotten." He fell silent, bowing his head for a moment, then twisted slightly at the waist, pulling his arms in, as if he was about to launch a frisbee.
The wreath sailed across the crystal-blue water a lot further than Vin had thought it would, before settling with hardly a splash to float on the serene waves. He looked over at Evie and Tye to see them rubbing their left hands over the metal bracelets on their right wrists. Vin knew the bracelets were engraved with the name of the Navy fighter pilot father they'd never known. Le Van had a similar bracelet, his father had been a chopper pilot in the Army. Sam's father had come home, so Sam had his dog tags. The sun glinted off the tags as they hung against Sam's #55 Orel Hershiser Los Angeles Dodgers blue-on-gray 'away' jersey, hastily tugged on over cutoff black jeans, half-buttoned if that.
Quattro nodded slightly, headed for the boat's wheelhouse. In seconds, they were slicing through the waves back to what was now home. The island Quattro claimed to have inherited from a relative included a mansion that was more than big enough for all of them to keep out of each others' way if needs be, with even more bedrooms when more 'strays' needed rescuing. The rooms were large and airy with high ceilings, plenty of windows, French doors that led out to the verandahs that encircled the entire structure, and all painted white or pastels, to maximize the abundant Caribbean sunlight. The manse and the grounds surrounding it were very well tended by staff, whom Quattro treated as people, not property. They'd been given a week off -- Everett had flown them to the nearest large, well-known island, to visit with friends and relatives of their own. Within sight of the house, the rest of the island grew in glorious, untouched jungle, ringed by sand the consistency and color of fine sugar. The Caribbean stretched for as far as Vin could see beyond the beach, meeting the sky in a line even his eyesight sometimes had trouble telling the difference between.
Quattro had warned that this was a 'windward' island, and as such to keep an eye on that sky, and an ear to the weather reports. Most of the staff had been born here, and likely knew more about how to spot a storm than the 'educated professionals' back in the States. After his experience leaving Texas, Vin was resolved to become the best weather watcher anyone ever saw. He knew he'd fallen into roses, and he was determined not to waste it. Quattro had read his file, but actually seeing the fading bruises and half-healed scars on Vin's rail-thin frame had been another order of magnitude entirely. The scoliosis never treated; the dyslexia never tested. The closet and bathroom doors left open at all times (he'd resorted to leaving whichever sock happened to be handiest on his bedroom doorknob if he had to use the bathroom, to save Evie walking in on him.) The way he was uneasy about physical contact, especially if he didn't see it coming, and from Everett and Tye even if he did see them. Vin had learned early and hard that bigger equaled stronger. The way he ate anything and everything put in front of him -- this at least was a trait he shared with Sam, who had spent several hard years alone on the streets of Saigon.
For a quarter inch beneath his blond hair and blue eyes, Sam Roper was half-Vietnamese, just like Le Van. They understood the shame Vin had been subjected to, all too often made to feel as if his Comanche blood was a moral failing on his part. A 'half-breed' in Texas was a 'dust child' in Saigon, and the three boys formed their own gang of three familiar misfits, faced with the All-American white skin and blue-green eyes of Tye and Evie, Everett's fallen Brazilian aristocracy, and Quattro's American 'landed gentry.' The dock and boathouse came into view, now. In addition to the Defiance herself, there were half a dozen smaller Sea Rays, along with a gaggle of personal watercraft of varying sizes. Vin figured Quattro was about the richest person he'd ever met, since Everett seemed to be pretty sure there'd be no money left in the inheritance stolen from him, once he did finally turn 25 three years from now. But he was never a snob with it, never made any of them feel as if there was anything 'less than' about them, just because they were pretty much living off him.
"Company!" Tye's sharp exclamation brought Vin's head up and around, looking towards the dock. Evie's wail of despair brought a clench in his guts he'd already started to hope he'd never have to feel again.
"God in Heaven, Quattro, it's Zeus! How in Hell did he find us?" God in Heaven, that had always been Caitlin's catchphrase. Tye stepped in front of Vin, blocking his view of the heavyset, silver-haired man waiting on the dock, incongruous in a dark suit against their ragged collection of T-shirts and shorts.
"Stay behind me, Vin." His voice brooked no argument, and Vin knew in an instant what the older boy was about. Stay behind me, so the bullets hit me, not you. Stay behind me, I'll shield you. Stay behind me and I'll die instead, so maybe you can get out of this.
"Tye, no -- "
"I said stay back. Get below."
"Like Hell!" Vin spat back. "Ain't no way out below, I go down there I'm trapped!"
"He's right, Tye," Quattro called down from the bridge, calm as Sunday in June. "Shield him if you must, but we face this together. He wants us separated, he cannot defeat us if we are united."
A proposal. This man who called himself 'Zeus' had a proposal for them. A computer program had been discovered, a backup copy of everything that made Airwolf ... Airwolf, and Zeus wanted to resurrect what had been the original 'plan.' Build a whole fleet of Airwolfs, fuel and arm and provide necessary logistical support. Quattro and Everett -- and the rest of them, as they became old enough -- would fly missions assigned by Zeus, who would be their contact back to "The Firm." "The Committee" would have no control, Quattro would have full autonomy. If they came upon a problem that needed solving independently, no questions would be asked ... unless they really caused an international incident.
"Got any Ocean Front Property In Arizona to go along with this sweetheart deal, Zeus?" Evie sneered. "Hawke didn't have this much freedom when he was working with Archangel, and he was a grown man. You mean to hand a fleet of Airwolfs to a pack of kids!" She swept an arm to encompass the group. "What do you get out of this?"
"My self-respect back. We -- I -- made a mistake. Jason Locke was a double agent, the 'St. John Hawke' he claimed to have found was an incredibly well-trained KGB operative. Mike Rivers and Jo Santini barely escaped with their lives."
"Better than Father, Messrs. Hawke and Santini, and Misses Abaco and O'Shannessy." Quattro's voice was colder than charity -- and Vin knew all about charity. He didn't think Quattro was going to go along with it; if he did, Zeus was really going to have to prove himself, and the very first time he stepped over the line ...
Zeus sighed tiredly, he'd known this wasn't going to be easy. Finding them had been sheer stupid luck -- an American aircraft carrier had passed nearby, and one of the F-14 Tomcat jockeys had used his onboard camera to snap a few photos of Airwolf, when Quattro and Everett had taken her up to test the repairs made after rescuing Vin. They'd landed as soon as The Lady's radar system had ID'd the fighter jets in the area, but not soon enough. The young fighter pilot's stepfather was a cousin of Zeus's, and had brought the pictures to Zeus as soon as his stepson had shown them to him. Zeus had already known about the island estate Quattro had inherited, it had come from Archangel's side of the young man's family.
"How much fuel have you got left? Have you taken her up since that last check flight? How are you for armament and ordnance? There were a couple of incidents between Van Nuys and your rescue of the boy in Texas -- "
"The boy is in the room, Zeus, and he does have a name," Evie's sneer turned to a snarl. "If you mean to work with him someday, you'd best start using it." Evie and Tye had been adopted by Stringfellow Hawke when they were ten years old, and had spent the previous two-and-a-half years Airwolf had been active knowing that the only consequence Zeus assigned to them was the necessity of keeping them alive if The Committee wished to keep Hawke happy. Other than that, they were non-entities to him -- they didn't exist on his plane of awareness. If he was really serious about this now, there would come the day he was facing Evie herself across his office, handing her mission parameters. They were all going to be a damn sight more than 'just someone we have to keep alive.'
Zeus scanned the youthful faces. He'd read Caitlin O'Shannessy's file before Hawke and Santini had made it back to Van Nuys from Texas, before even Archangel had -- he knew what had transpired in Dallas that had led the feisty young Highway Patrol chopper pilot to Pope County. He'd known that Archangel was keeping tabs on the child Caitlin had befriended, waiting only for the perfect opportunity to retrieve him.
'Six've us an' one a him. Ev'r'tt an' Quattro's carryin' guns, dunno 'bout Evie an' Tye. He's far 'nough away he cain't jist grab me an' bolt afore someone gits a shot off.' Vin stood up from where he'd remained half-hidden behind and to Tye's left, because if Tye was armed, he was right-handed.
"M'name's Vin Tanner, Mister. But I reckon y'know that already. Likely y'know a lot 'bout me, mebbe even some thing's I don't. Y'speak ta Walker an' th' Malloys, ya tell 'em I'm safe. Bein' taken good care of. Might be some water unner th' bridge afore I make it back t'Texas, though."
"He's dealing with not being able to see it from here," Tye commented mildly. He didn't love country music as much as Evie and Vin, but he couldn't live with them and not pick up things by sheer proximity osmosis.
Zeus nodded at Vin. "There seem to be a few ... black holes in your history, Mr. Tanner. You don't seem to exist before the age of four. We're investigating the whys of that."
"Don't bother askin' th' Peneteka, they ain't gonna tell no White-eyes fed'ral agent." Naming the specific branch of the Comanche he belonged to. Nobody from Child Services could stop Cordell Walker from asking questions, and the fact the Ranger was half-Cherokee had opened the doors needed. Somehow Walker had always managed to find where Vin was being kept ... held. Nobody from Child Services had wished to antagonize the Ranger into launching a full-scale investigation into Vin's case.
The phone rang, and with an evil grin, Evie got up to answer it, flipping on the speaker phone. They were in what Quattro called 'the sunhouse,' set off from the main building and made almost entirely of glass. The walls folded back and made a nifty pavilion for entertaining guests, supposedly. They weren't about to let Zeus in the house. Now, the sheer curtains that backed the doors blew inward as a very familiar black fuselage poked in. Airwolf was just barely too big to actually get entirely into the sunhouse, but by angling her rotors crosswise to her fuselage could get a substantial portion of herself at least in enough to become the focus of attention.
Do I get a vote? Came out of the speaker phone. Everett smirked at the pole-axed expression on Zeus's face.
"Remember that AI program my mother was working on, with the crew from the Foundation For Law And Government?" Zeus nodded dumbly, and Everett couldn't hold back a chuckle. "Well, it evolved."
"Evolved?!?"
"It means she's sentient, Zeus. And she's got a Hell of a memory. A delightful temper, as well!" Quattro interjected, as gleeful as Everett if not moreso. "She can even fly herself, in the unfortunate event her crew becomes incapacitated."
"Fly ... herself ... " and all Zeus could think of right now was the time she'd very nearly destroyed herself, when Charles Henry Moffett's 'logic bomb' had activated.
Evie strolled over and draped herself across Airwolf's nose, like a tiger tamer at the circus. "Now, I will ask you again, Zeus. You want to hand a fleet of Airwolfs to a pack of kids?"
He deflated like a popped balloon, actually slumped forward, in such a degree as to have Quattro and Everett stepping forward in concern. "I ... I don't have a choice. What I do have are orders. Directly from the White House itself. The Airwolf program is to be re-activated, with all speed, under whatever circumstances are necessary.' He looked around at them. Two college kids, two high school kids, two junior high kids, and one twelve-year-old fifth-grader. "You are the Airwolf program now."
Tye rolled his eyes at the ceiling. "Three cheers for the Cold War."
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"And I hear them saying
You'll never change things
And no matter what you do
It's still the same thing
But it's not the world that I am changing
I do this so this world will know
That it will not change me."
The Change
Garth Brooks
Fresh Horses
Capitol Nashville 1995
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Somewhere over North Texas
Wednesday 23 April 1986
The plan -- and even calling it a plan was more glory than it deserved -- hadn't really been much of one. Get in, Grab the kid, Get out, Don't get caught. The storm had been viewed as a plus, anyone with any sense would be taking shelter, thus reducing potential witnesses. Besides, Airwolf had in her existence flown through two hurricanes, a volcanic eruption, and on one occasion to an altitude of 100,000 feet -- the middle reaches of the stratosphere, traditionally the domain of such aircraft as the U-2, SR-71 Blackbird and the Concorde! Plus, they could do a little storm chasing, and perhaps make someone's life easier that worked for the local weather service. Certainly no civilian chopper was going up in this, and the ground-based chasers could only be in one place at a time, and see what was immediately around them. The Lady's radar could cover the entire storm system. Other than that ... firewall the turbos until they'd escaped the storm, then simply navigate around it.
If you want to make God laugh, tell Him your plans. And never believe that twisters 'only' travel northeast. Fortunately, one of Vin's less-horrible foster fathers had been an amateur race-car driver, so Vin knew how to operate a five-point harness. He was still being tossed around to some degree, as the harness had never been intended for use by someone that small. The only reason they weren't dead yet was because the AI program was taking most of the load, computer synapses racing through Airwolf's cybernetic 'brain' faster than Michael and Everett could ever hope to react.
Wind speed ... direction ... three funnel clouds ... two on the ground ... F-4 intensity ... downdraft! She bucked and rocked like a rodeo bull on Saturday night, involuntarily spinning on her axis three complete revolutions. Ohh, that's only fun when I mean to do it ...
"Closest heading that will get us out of this, my dear." Despite Airwolf for all intents and purposes 'flying herself,' Michael wasn't about to take his hands off the controls.
When I find one, I'll take it!
Vin looked across the cockpit. He'd just figured out that the 'voice' he kept hearing in his head was the helicopter itself -- herself -- and that she could think for herself. This was why Caitlin had left Texas, this was what had so thoroughly wrecked Pope County. "She's tryin' her best."
Michael spared a second for a smile. "I'm aware of that, and I am thankful. I suppose we were not expecting quite such fierce opposition. It is almost as if your native soil does not wish to relinquish you."
"Should have treated him better in the first place," Everett chimed in from the back seat. "Michael, microburst!"
Oh, I hate microbursts! Ouch, that hurts! Oh, the Hell with this! Turbos full! And Airwolf aimed her nose at the sky and kicked all of her considerable power into the four turbojets that would give her the boost she needed to escape the storm. Somewhat like the afterburners on a fighter jet, it was a quick way to grab extra power when needed. Unfortunately, just like afterburners, the turbos gulped up an incredible amount of fuel. Airwolf could not go supersonic for an extended period of time, but to get herself and her passengers out of this mess, it was exactly what would do the trick. And the fact that her cabin was pressurized and somewhat temperature-controlled would ensure that visiting the stratosphere would not be unnecessarily uncomfortable.
Cumulonimbus -- the scientific name for what Vin knew as thunderheads -- usually topped out at roughly 60,000 feet. Airwolf knew her personal vertical limit was 40,000 feet over that, all she had to do was get there.
There, that's better. She leveled out at 70,000, looking down at the storm. Everett shook his head. "Well, like Dom said about the hurricane -- for what it's worth, it's a look nobody else will get."
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Haven Island
Caribbean Ocean
Monday 26 May 1986
Memorial Day
Vin stood at the stern of the 61-foot Sea Ray motor yacht, the Defiance. Michael -- 'No, ain't Michael no more, now we's gotta call 'im Quattro. Why's he wanta call hisself after a car?' -- stood nearby, holding a wreath made of flowers, waiting to toss it overboard. They'd all been up at sunrise to raise the flag, and sing the National Anthem. Evie had recited 'In Flanders' Fields,' which Vin kinda-sorta remembered from English class. Quattro had promised that after tossing the wreath into the ocean, the 'serious part' of their Memorial Day observance would be over, and they'd have the rest of the day to relax and celebrate. Evie had spent most of yesterday making cold salads, there were ribs, chicken pieces, steaks, shrimps, scallops and fish marinating in the fridge, crabs, lobsters and clams 'cooling their shells', blissfully unaware of their impending fates once Tye and Everett got a massive fire going back on the beach.
Tet nudged Quattro with his grizzle-gray muzzle, and Vin absently reached over to scratch the bluetick hound's floppy ears. He and the old dog had taken to each other instantly, which apparently pleased Quattro greatly. Vin guessed that as long as Tet was around, Quattro figured nobody would be hassling him for a dog, since he was pretty much the boss around here even though Everett was two years older. The two dozen or so cats Quattro referred to as Hemingways seemed to have come with the island. Evie had told Vin they were called Hemingways because they were all six- or seven-toed. The ones who lived in the house had figured out the can opener, and if three of them worked together, could open the refrigerator. Tet had 'gotten the point,' so to speak, and left them mostly alone.
Quattro stepped forward. "Today is a day of remembrance, for those who have given their lives for our sake. Those who stepped forward when their country called them, who never received the parades when the cease-fire was declared. The fields of stones in Europe; the black wall in Washington. The eternal flames for those unknown. They are only truly dead when they are forgotten, so the last Monday in May has been set aside to make certain they are never forgotten." He fell silent, bowing his head for a moment, then twisted slightly at the waist, pulling his arms in, as if he was about to launch a frisbee.
The wreath sailed across the crystal-blue water a lot further than Vin had thought it would, before settling with hardly a splash to float on the serene waves. He looked over at Evie and Tye to see them rubbing their left hands over the metal bracelets on their right wrists. Vin knew the bracelets were engraved with the name of the Navy fighter pilot father they'd never known. Le Van had a similar bracelet, his father had been a chopper pilot in the Army. Sam's father had come home, so Sam had his dog tags. The sun glinted off the tags as they hung against Sam's #55 Orel Hershiser Los Angeles Dodgers blue-on-gray 'away' jersey, hastily tugged on over cutoff black jeans, half-buttoned if that.
Quattro nodded slightly, headed for the boat's wheelhouse. In seconds, they were slicing through the waves back to what was now home. The island Quattro claimed to have inherited from a relative included a mansion that was more than big enough for all of them to keep out of each others' way if needs be, with even more bedrooms when more 'strays' needed rescuing. The rooms were large and airy with high ceilings, plenty of windows, French doors that led out to the verandahs that encircled the entire structure, and all painted white or pastels, to maximize the abundant Caribbean sunlight. The manse and the grounds surrounding it were very well tended by staff, whom Quattro treated as people, not property. They'd been given a week off -- Everett had flown them to the nearest large, well-known island, to visit with friends and relatives of their own. Within sight of the house, the rest of the island grew in glorious, untouched jungle, ringed by sand the consistency and color of fine sugar. The Caribbean stretched for as far as Vin could see beyond the beach, meeting the sky in a line even his eyesight sometimes had trouble telling the difference between.
Quattro had warned that this was a 'windward' island, and as such to keep an eye on that sky, and an ear to the weather reports. Most of the staff had been born here, and likely knew more about how to spot a storm than the 'educated professionals' back in the States. After his experience leaving Texas, Vin was resolved to become the best weather watcher anyone ever saw. He knew he'd fallen into roses, and he was determined not to waste it. Quattro had read his file, but actually seeing the fading bruises and half-healed scars on Vin's rail-thin frame had been another order of magnitude entirely. The scoliosis never treated; the dyslexia never tested. The closet and bathroom doors left open at all times (he'd resorted to leaving whichever sock happened to be handiest on his bedroom doorknob if he had to use the bathroom, to save Evie walking in on him.) The way he was uneasy about physical contact, especially if he didn't see it coming, and from Everett and Tye even if he did see them. Vin had learned early and hard that bigger equaled stronger. The way he ate anything and everything put in front of him -- this at least was a trait he shared with Sam, who had spent several hard years alone on the streets of Saigon.
For a quarter inch beneath his blond hair and blue eyes, Sam Roper was half-Vietnamese, just like Le Van. They understood the shame Vin had been subjected to, all too often made to feel as if his Comanche blood was a moral failing on his part. A 'half-breed' in Texas was a 'dust child' in Saigon, and the three boys formed their own gang of three familiar misfits, faced with the All-American white skin and blue-green eyes of Tye and Evie, Everett's fallen Brazilian aristocracy, and Quattro's American 'landed gentry.' The dock and boathouse came into view, now. In addition to the Defiance herself, there were half a dozen smaller Sea Rays, along with a gaggle of personal watercraft of varying sizes. Vin figured Quattro was about the richest person he'd ever met, since Everett seemed to be pretty sure there'd be no money left in the inheritance stolen from him, once he did finally turn 25 three years from now. But he was never a snob with it, never made any of them feel as if there was anything 'less than' about them, just because they were pretty much living off him.
"Company!" Tye's sharp exclamation brought Vin's head up and around, looking towards the dock. Evie's wail of despair brought a clench in his guts he'd already started to hope he'd never have to feel again.
"God in Heaven, Quattro, it's Zeus! How in Hell did he find us?" God in Heaven, that had always been Caitlin's catchphrase. Tye stepped in front of Vin, blocking his view of the heavyset, silver-haired man waiting on the dock, incongruous in a dark suit against their ragged collection of T-shirts and shorts.
"Stay behind me, Vin." His voice brooked no argument, and Vin knew in an instant what the older boy was about. Stay behind me, so the bullets hit me, not you. Stay behind me, I'll shield you. Stay behind me and I'll die instead, so maybe you can get out of this.
"Tye, no -- "
"I said stay back. Get below."
"Like Hell!" Vin spat back. "Ain't no way out below, I go down there I'm trapped!"
"He's right, Tye," Quattro called down from the bridge, calm as Sunday in June. "Shield him if you must, but we face this together. He wants us separated, he cannot defeat us if we are united."
A proposal. This man who called himself 'Zeus' had a proposal for them. A computer program had been discovered, a backup copy of everything that made Airwolf ... Airwolf, and Zeus wanted to resurrect what had been the original 'plan.' Build a whole fleet of Airwolfs, fuel and arm and provide necessary logistical support. Quattro and Everett -- and the rest of them, as they became old enough -- would fly missions assigned by Zeus, who would be their contact back to "The Firm." "The Committee" would have no control, Quattro would have full autonomy. If they came upon a problem that needed solving independently, no questions would be asked ... unless they really caused an international incident.
"Got any Ocean Front Property In Arizona to go along with this sweetheart deal, Zeus?" Evie sneered. "Hawke didn't have this much freedom when he was working with Archangel, and he was a grown man. You mean to hand a fleet of Airwolfs to a pack of kids!" She swept an arm to encompass the group. "What do you get out of this?"
"My self-respect back. We -- I -- made a mistake. Jason Locke was a double agent, the 'St. John Hawke' he claimed to have found was an incredibly well-trained KGB operative. Mike Rivers and Jo Santini barely escaped with their lives."
"Better than Father, Messrs. Hawke and Santini, and Misses Abaco and O'Shannessy." Quattro's voice was colder than charity -- and Vin knew all about charity. He didn't think Quattro was going to go along with it; if he did, Zeus was really going to have to prove himself, and the very first time he stepped over the line ...
Zeus sighed tiredly, he'd known this wasn't going to be easy. Finding them had been sheer stupid luck -- an American aircraft carrier had passed nearby, and one of the F-14 Tomcat jockeys had used his onboard camera to snap a few photos of Airwolf, when Quattro and Everett had taken her up to test the repairs made after rescuing Vin. They'd landed as soon as The Lady's radar system had ID'd the fighter jets in the area, but not soon enough. The young fighter pilot's stepfather was a cousin of Zeus's, and had brought the pictures to Zeus as soon as his stepson had shown them to him. Zeus had already known about the island estate Quattro had inherited, it had come from Archangel's side of the young man's family.
"How much fuel have you got left? Have you taken her up since that last check flight? How are you for armament and ordnance? There were a couple of incidents between Van Nuys and your rescue of the boy in Texas -- "
"The boy is in the room, Zeus, and he does have a name," Evie's sneer turned to a snarl. "If you mean to work with him someday, you'd best start using it." Evie and Tye had been adopted by Stringfellow Hawke when they were ten years old, and had spent the previous two-and-a-half years Airwolf had been active knowing that the only consequence Zeus assigned to them was the necessity of keeping them alive if The Committee wished to keep Hawke happy. Other than that, they were non-entities to him -- they didn't exist on his plane of awareness. If he was really serious about this now, there would come the day he was facing Evie herself across his office, handing her mission parameters. They were all going to be a damn sight more than 'just someone we have to keep alive.'
Zeus scanned the youthful faces. He'd read Caitlin O'Shannessy's file before Hawke and Santini had made it back to Van Nuys from Texas, before even Archangel had -- he knew what had transpired in Dallas that had led the feisty young Highway Patrol chopper pilot to Pope County. He'd known that Archangel was keeping tabs on the child Caitlin had befriended, waiting only for the perfect opportunity to retrieve him.
'Six've us an' one a him. Ev'r'tt an' Quattro's carryin' guns, dunno 'bout Evie an' Tye. He's far 'nough away he cain't jist grab me an' bolt afore someone gits a shot off.' Vin stood up from where he'd remained half-hidden behind and to Tye's left, because if Tye was armed, he was right-handed.
"M'name's Vin Tanner, Mister. But I reckon y'know that already. Likely y'know a lot 'bout me, mebbe even some thing's I don't. Y'speak ta Walker an' th' Malloys, ya tell 'em I'm safe. Bein' taken good care of. Might be some water unner th' bridge afore I make it back t'Texas, though."
"He's dealing with not being able to see it from here," Tye commented mildly. He didn't love country music as much as Evie and Vin, but he couldn't live with them and not pick up things by sheer proximity osmosis.
Zeus nodded at Vin. "There seem to be a few ... black holes in your history, Mr. Tanner. You don't seem to exist before the age of four. We're investigating the whys of that."
"Don't bother askin' th' Peneteka, they ain't gonna tell no White-eyes fed'ral agent." Naming the specific branch of the Comanche he belonged to. Nobody from Child Services could stop Cordell Walker from asking questions, and the fact the Ranger was half-Cherokee had opened the doors needed. Somehow Walker had always managed to find where Vin was being kept ... held. Nobody from Child Services had wished to antagonize the Ranger into launching a full-scale investigation into Vin's case.
The phone rang, and with an evil grin, Evie got up to answer it, flipping on the speaker phone. They were in what Quattro called 'the sunhouse,' set off from the main building and made almost entirely of glass. The walls folded back and made a nifty pavilion for entertaining guests, supposedly. They weren't about to let Zeus in the house. Now, the sheer curtains that backed the doors blew inward as a very familiar black fuselage poked in. Airwolf was just barely too big to actually get entirely into the sunhouse, but by angling her rotors crosswise to her fuselage could get a substantial portion of herself at least in enough to become the focus of attention.
Do I get a vote? Came out of the speaker phone. Everett smirked at the pole-axed expression on Zeus's face.
"Remember that AI program my mother was working on, with the crew from the Foundation For Law And Government?" Zeus nodded dumbly, and Everett couldn't hold back a chuckle. "Well, it evolved."
"Evolved?!?"
"It means she's sentient, Zeus. And she's got a Hell of a memory. A delightful temper, as well!" Quattro interjected, as gleeful as Everett if not moreso. "She can even fly herself, in the unfortunate event her crew becomes incapacitated."
"Fly ... herself ... " and all Zeus could think of right now was the time she'd very nearly destroyed herself, when Charles Henry Moffett's 'logic bomb' had activated.
Evie strolled over and draped herself across Airwolf's nose, like a tiger tamer at the circus. "Now, I will ask you again, Zeus. You want to hand a fleet of Airwolfs to a pack of kids?"
He deflated like a popped balloon, actually slumped forward, in such a degree as to have Quattro and Everett stepping forward in concern. "I ... I don't have a choice. What I do have are orders. Directly from the White House itself. The Airwolf program is to be re-activated, with all speed, under whatever circumstances are necessary.' He looked around at them. Two college kids, two high school kids, two junior high kids, and one twelve-year-old fifth-grader. "You are the Airwolf program now."
Tye rolled his eyes at the ceiling. "Three cheers for the Cold War."
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