Airwolf Rule The World

Chapter Eight



Dominic almost fell out of Airwolf back at the Hangar. He was so shocked at what Hawke had just done. Dominic was struggling more with the fact that Hawke somehow by unleashing Airwolf’s arsenal on seemingly two men wanted for arms dealing, although a crime the sentence carried out was overkill, but the fact that the dark side of Stringfellow had crept back into existence.



Dominic looked back over the years at the young, brooding man that he had brought up since he was twelve. The last time Hawke had unleashed all of Airwolf’s entire arsenal was on their mission to Libya to retrieve Airwolf. After finding Gabrielle, tortured and raped in the desert where she died in Hawke’s arms, Hawke was a man possessed, flying Airwolf through every Russian tank, anti aircraft guns, in fact most of Khaddaffi’s army, navy and air force, but still Hawke flew until he found his target. A lonely dressed in arab white clothing man, Doctor Charles Henry Moffet, who stole Airwolf and also had tortured Gabrielle for hours out in the desert, tied up to a jeep. Hawke had sat in Airwolf, motionless, except for his trigger finger, which at the click of a button unleashed all of Airwolf’s 14 fire power options at the sand dune where Moffet once stood. Dominic like then, remained silent during the delivery of the judge, jury and executioner.



When Dominic finally was allowed to answer Archangel he told him that Stavilav and The Minotaur were no more. Archangel went off at Hawke but Hawke ignored the rebuke and terminated the video without even bothering to glance at it.



The trip back to Kristien’s was totally silent. Dominic swore that even The Lady’s Computers were quieter than normal.



Hawke got out and unzipped his flight suit, revealing his chest which was still carrying the bruising from the traumatic crash that he had in the DB7. Hawke started to walk across to the weapons across the hangar and he was about to reload Airwolf when Dominic broke the silence.



“Tell me to mind my own business, but what the hell is going on here?” Dominic asked and held out his large Italian hands in front of him, gesturing an open posture to Hawke.



Hawke carried on selecting a few missiles, loading them onto the trolley that he used to bring them over to Airwolf. “We carried out the mission objective.” Hawke did not even pause when he spoke.



“Oh, really?” Dominic frowned over at Hawke.



Hawke started to drag over the trolley towards Airwolf to reload all of her arsenal, ready for the next mission, which Dominic was totally clueless about. “The world has two less bastards to worry about.” Hawke spoke without any emotion.



Dominic watched Hawke start to reload Airwolf. He decided against helping Hawke and walked out of the hangar to go and try and get some fresh night air and to try to come to deal with the fact that Hawke seemed to have returned to his deep, brooding ways yet again.



Dominic found himself taking in the night air on the roof of Kristien’s huge Elizabethan house, at over four storeys high you could see all of the huge estate. With the dark blanket of night hanging over the estate all you could see was the bright, twinkling stars. Dominic sighed deeply and shook his head and looked up to the sky and opened up his hands.



“If you are waiting for an answer Mr Santini, one usually takes a number.” Alfred spoke quietly.



Dominic looked over towards the walls of the roof and Alfred stood patiently waiting for his answer. “Dare I ask how many years you have been waiting then?” Dominic tried to put a little bit of humour into his reply.



“I usually get an answer every time I ask a question.” Alfred replied positively.



Dominic walked over to the walled edge and stood next to Alfred. Alfred offered over his hip flask. Dominic took a swig and swallowed the amber nectar that coated the back of his throat and handed the hip flask back to Alfred. “Do you ever worry that you haven’t brought them up right.” Dominic asked Alfred as they both watched Hawke walk silently towards the Lodge where Kristien was resting.



“As guardians we can only guide them along their journey of life.” Alfred replied watching Hawke enter the Lodge and he looked at Dominic. “You seem anxious, Mr Santini.” Alfred noted.



Dominic looked at the elder man. “Anxious? Oh I was past anxious a few months back, nowadays I am near hysterics I am that worried.” Dominic admitted to Alfred.



Alfred paused and nodded to Dominic. “Master Stringfellow and Miss Kristien have been through a lot lately.” Alfred admitted but remained positive and up beat about things.



“Oh they have both been to hell, that’s for sure but it’s the coming back I am having hysterics about.” Dominic shook his head sadly knowing that Hawke’s brooding was keeping him away from everyone. “String broods deeply you know, shuts himself out from the world and anyone that cares for him.” Dominic sighed. “He is already distant from Kristien.”



Alfred looked directly at Dominic noting every word he spoke. The solemn silence between the two mentors grew. Both of them knowing the truth about both of their wards that they had mentored into adulthood, both of them sharing the worries and the concerns that they had aired.



Hawke walked quietly into the bedroom that he shared with Kristien, there was no lights on only a roaring fire dancing with orange flames in the huge fireplace shedding its only light into the darkness. It’s dim orange light sharing a warm glow in the dark of the night. As Hawke’s eyes grew accustomed to the dim light he could make out that the bed was empty, despite Doctor Sarah Parsons stark orders about staying in bed, Kristien was no where to be seen. Hawke sighed and stripped his Airwolf Flight Suit down to his waist. The bruising from the car crash had gone to greens and yellows. He walked over to the table near the window and poured himself a large cognac and downed it in one. He poured another and as he looked at the window he saw the reflection of Kristien, laid out in front of the fire. Hawke turned and looked, his cold eyes surveying the warm scene of Kristien waiting for him in front of the fire. He picked up the decanter of cognac and walked over to the fireplace. He sat down in the huge armchair opposite to where Kristien lay. Hawke allowed his cold, expressionless eyes wander over Kristien’s naked body covered scantily by the duvet. She had brought the duvet down from the bed with a few pillows and leant them up against the sofa where she had somehow made a nest to curl up in and fall gently asleep in front of the fire. Hawke looked at the cognac swirling around in the glass, its golden liquid enticing him to drown the sorrow that he was feeling with his brooding. As he raised the snifter and took a large mouthful, Kristien stirred in her sleep. Hawke’s blue piercing eyes started to look over Kristien’s sleeping body. He knew every inch of it.



Alfred entered the bedroom and walked directly over to the fire and placed more logs on it. The flames instantly sprang into life, eagerly licking the new logs and bringing new oranges and reds and yellows to the fire mix. Hawke watched him as he finished the tending of the fire and then he looked down at Kristien and a small smile appeared and Alfred looked directly at Hawke and acknowledged him.



“Go to her.” Alfred whispered to Hawke and left the room as quietly as he entered it.



Hawke stood up and removed his flight suit and laid down next to Kristien. He put his arm around her and she stirred in her sleep. He kissed the top of her warm head. Hawke looked at her bare skin glowing in the firelight. Kristien stirred again in her sleep.



“Shhhhhhhhh.” Hawke whispered to her hoping not to wake her.



Kristien turned to Hawke in her sleep and placed her arms around his chest and laid her head on him. Hawke gladly took her in his arms, her naked warm body against his, since the incident with Diana they had not held each other closely, only the holding of hands seemed permissible.



Time passed and for a time Hawke just watched the flames dance in the fireplace, and from time to time he looked at Kristien asleep in his arms. With Hawke’s body heat under the duvet, Kristien had pushed the cover from her body down to her waist. Hawke absorbed her beauty and her soft skin glowing in the firelight. Soon too he joined Kristien and entered his dream state.



Hawke sat on his dock with Tet laid at his feet. He was playing his Stradivarius. The bow allowed the sorrowful music being played to spill out from the strings over the lapping crystal topped waves of Eagle Lake. Hawke looked out over the lake and saw a boat similar to the boat his parents used when he was a small boy. As he continued to play he watched the boat come into view and saw himself as a young boy with his parents. Hawke sat helplessly as he witnessed history repeating itself, somehow the galley stove ignited where his mum was preparing the freshly caught trout that Hawke and his father had expertly caught just 30 minutes before. Hawke remembered that they often came up to the Cabin most weekends. Saint John, being 17 was sitting some of his final exams so had immersed himself in study and revision in the back of the cabin that particular weekend.



The explosion although small, damaged the small boat causing it to list badly to the starboard side, allowing the water to spill over the sides, immersing it below the water line, dragging it down to the black depths of the cold hidden waters of the lake. Hawke struggled with the images of his parents drowning in front of him. Saint John on hearing the explosion had already run out of the cabin and was swimming desperately as fast as he could, still fully clothed trying to get to the motionless floating body of his brother, Stringfellow. The lifejacket keeping him afloat although face down. Saint John frantically grabbing Stringfelllow and turning him over in the water and checked for breathing. There was none. Saint John started mouth to mouth resuscitation and after a couple of breaths Stringfellow coughed and spat out the lake water he had inadvertently took in when the boat went down. Stringfellow came too and realised what had happened and started to shout and cry wildly for his parents who were no where to be seen. The boat finally sinking and all that remained over the lake was a small cloud of smoke that had come from the galley fire, which had been swallowed by the tidal wave of lake water that dragged the boat and Stringfellow’s and Saint John’s parents to the bottom of the deep lake.



Once to the shore Saint John had to console his younger traumatised brother who was already blaming himself for the accident as he wanted to eat the fish that he had caught with his father before returning to shore.



Even when Dominic Santini arrived ahead of the authorities, no one could convince the young Stringfellow Hawke that the gas explosion was an accident and could have happened at anytime.



Hawke continued to watch the traumatic scene from the dock.



Hawke’s body was twitching in his sleep, the beading of sweat coming from all of his body’s pores. His rapid eye movement continued as he carried on with the scenes from his troubled past.



Kristien stood on the dock and walked towards Hawke who had paused with his cello playing. He looked at her and was glad of the distraction from the tragedy that he forced himself to watch yet again. He picked up his cello and held Kristien in his arms again and walked to the cabin.



As he opened the door the expectation was high. But instead of the inside of the cabin the scene changed to white walls, mainly of an arab design. Hawke wandered through aimlessly, not sure where he was at first and then as he entered one room he saw Kristien chained up by one wrist, blood oozing out of her shredded wrist. He saw her brother Bryon brutally pound her with his fists. Hawke marched forward and instinctively tried to pull Bryon from her to stop him once and for all. He couldn’t move him and he stood helplessly as Kristien was raped in front of him.



Hawke woke with a start, sweat pouring from him. “Kristie.” Hawke blurted out. He looked down and saw Kristien now awake in his arms.



Kristien looked at Hawke. “You can’t stop it from happening.” Kristien whispered sadly. Hawke kissed the top of her head.



“Oh God, I can’t protect you.” Hawke stammered struggling with the violent images again.



Kristien leant up and gently placed her lips on his for one single kiss. “You saved me more than you know.” Hawke placed his fingers on her face and touched her soft cheeks despite his calluses he could feel her soft silk like skin. He couldn’t even force a smile he was struggling with the deep inner torment that was churning his stomach like a washing machine on a wash cycle. It was time to lay some ghosts to rest.



Kristien took a deep breath and laid her head back onto Hawke’s damp chest. “I knew what was going to happen, somehow I could see into Bryon’s mind. It was full of hate and anger towards me. I knew you were coming, I could feel you get closer, each mile I became stronger.” Kristien began the grave retelling of her brutal ordeal in order to put it away forever, deep in her memory, never to resurface again. “Once they over powered me they pumped me full of some kind of drugs to make me compliant, I kept fighting even though I kept being hurt. Bryon dislocated my arm so I couldn’t fight back. He stripped me naked and then I heard your voice.” Kristien paused taking a breath. Hawke too took a deep breath but it wasn’t enough to stop the solitary tear escape from his watery eyes. “You told me not to struggle, so finally I gave in to the drugs and allowed him to rape me.” Kristien took another deep breath. “But I wasn’t there, you had taken me to the cabin, we spent a lovely day together, laughing, enjoying each others company and making love everywhere.” Kristien gently filed away her traumatic rape away permanently deep in the recesses of her mind, never to resurface even during her dream state.



As Hawke listened to Kristien, he too could feel the images disappear from his troubled mind too. The stabbing pain he felt deep in his broken heart, seemed to melt away. Hawke knew he had a lot of making up to do if he and Kristien were to enjoy their relationship and get it back to how they had it. What he would give to turn time back to when they were happiest, but life is never like that.



Hawke looked at Kristien in his arms, he held her tightly, savouring her body against his, daring not to move in case she pushed him away. Kristien’s hand moved up and took hold of one of Hawke’s hands. He paused for a moment hoping that she wasn’t remembering the incident that he had with Diana. He waited for Kristien to push him away but instead she placed his hand on her pregnant bump and he could feel their baby Metteo, moving about. Hawke froze, his breathing was shallow, he was keeping control of his body, he did not want to over step the mark that he felt Kristien had placed invisibly between them since the incident with Diana. In his mind he would only wait for invites from her. He so desperately wanted to put everything right between them, to make passionate love all night and all day. But just like a young girl and a boy on their first intimate encounter, he was not sure how far he had permission to go with her.



Time passed slowly, he could feel every second pass as he continued to hold Kristien and feel their baby move, the life that they had created out of their love for each other. Slowly, Hawke’s eyelids grew heavy and he drifted off to sleep, where for once he only encountered his dreams.