Caitlin O'Shannessy looked up from the helicopter engine, her cheeks smeared with oil. She held a wrench in one hand and a grease-soaked rag in the other. She noticed two women standing at the open entrance of the hanger at 'Santini Air'. One was a red-head, like herself. The other was taller and a brunette.

"Howdy!" Caitlin called, "Just a minute and I can help you. Are you looking to hire us?"

The red-head frowned, "Well, not exactly. We're here on an investigation, actually."

"Oh, "Caitlin replied, puzzled, "Well, come on in."

The brunette moved forward first, flashing a quick smile as she pulled out a badge, "We'd like to speak with a Mr. Santini, if possible. We're from the FBI."

"Oh!" Caitlin cried out, automatically dropping the wrench in her hand. It clattered to the pavement with a loud clang. She clambered down from the helicopter engine with a start, her blue eyes wide with surprise, "Is there anything wrong? I mean, are we in any sort of trouble?"

"Ms. O'Shannessy, isn't it?" the red-head asked, moving closer, "Where is Mr. Santini?"

"Dom, "Caitlin shouted in her Texas drawl, backing away from the two women with a look of fear on her face, "Dom, you'd better get out here right now."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming," Dominic Santini emerged through the doorway at the back of the hanger, his characteristic shiny red Santini-Air cap a-top his head. He smiled widely, "Ahhhh, movie scouts? Have we got the best helicopter stunts in the world! You came to the right place if you're looking for…"

"Dom" Caitlin interrupted.

"…the most talented, and not too badly priced, helicopter pilots who can fly just about any crazy—"

"Dom!" Caitlin shouted, "They're not movie scouts. They're FBI agents!"

Dominic's smile melted into a grimace, "What…FBI?"

The brunette approached with her hand out and a smile on her face, "My name is Monica Reyes. This is my associate, Agent Dana Scully. We're here to ask you a few questions."

Dominic eyes her suspiciously, taking her hand in a cautious hand-shake, "Questions – about what? What's the FBI need to ask questions about my business for?"

Agent Scully turned on her heels and marched forward, looking much less friendly than Agent Reyes, "Mr. Santini and Ms. O'Shannessey. We're here to find out what information you may have concerning a certain aircraft that's been seen frequently over the desert parts of southern California. Many observers have sent us information and photographs of this aircraft. We have been informed that you know the pilot. This is a machine which we believe has been built and engineered using alien technology."

Scully glanced at Monica Reyes for a moment as the look of dumb surprise spread over both Dominic and Caitlin's expressions.

"Alien?" Caitlin said.

"Yes, alien technology stolen by the U.S. government in the mid-1950's from the UFO crash at Roswell," Reyes affirmed bluntly.

"All we need is your help contacting the pilot of this aircraft," Scully continued, her sharp blue eyes carefully watching Dominic and Caitlin's reaction to her words, "What's his name and where can we find him."

Monica offered a warm smile again, "We just want to ask a few questions – I promise no one's in any sort of trouble."

"Yet," Scully added coldly.

Caitlin jumped back, startled, "Well, I'm sure we'd don't know what you mean. Do we Dom?"

Dominic Santini stared at Scully and Reyes with a blank look of shock, "Aliens?"

"Like I said," Caitlin continued, her voice quavering despite her best effort, "I'm sure we don't know what you mean. There's no other pilots here accept myself and—"

"Hey Dom!" a voice called out.

A red, blue and white jeep decorated with white stars pulled up abruptly outside the hanger. Scully and Reyes turned around simultaneously as Stringfellow Hawke jumped out of the jeep and strolled inside. He slowly removed his dark sunglasses as he saw the two women. One look at Caitlin's wide blue eyes brought him to a standstill.

"What's going on here," String asked, his voice laden with hostility.

Scully raised her badge, "We're here from the FBI, sir. May I ask your name please?"

Stringfellow ground his foot into the pavement impatiently, "Stringfellow Hawke. What's this all about?"

"That can't be your real name," Scully muttered sarcastically.

"You want to tell me what's going on here?" Hawke shouted angrily.

Monica Reyes edged ahead of Scully, dropping her voice quietly, "I think the good-cop approach might work better here, Dana."

Dana Scully sighed, backing away as Agent Reyes approached Hawke.

"Mr. Hawke," Monica said, "My name is Monica Reyes, and this is Dana Scully. We're with the FBI and we're investigating sightings of an aircraft that's been seen in these parts of California. Are you the pilot of this craft?"

Hawke's brow furrowed. He remained silent.

"If you are, we just need to ask you a few questions. Agent Scully and I work on what's known as the X Files. It's a special unit at the FBI which deals specifically with cases that involve unexplained phenomena. The aircraft in question may have been built with the use of alien technology. We're here to find out what you know about this. We believe there's a conspiracy within the US government that is aware of this technology. We are trying to bring them to justice. Can you help us?"

Stringfellow looked at Agent Reyes for a long moment, studying her brown eyes. There was a sense of humanity about her that seemed at odds with the agency she worked for. He saw trust in her eyes and his hostility subsided.

"Aliens? Ms. Reyes—I've been a pilot most of my life. I've flown across almost every part of the globe. And I've never, ever seen anything I would describe as a UFO," Hawke said calmly, "I think you're wasting your time."

"So you are a pilot," Reyes probed in her gentle manner, "Do you know about the machine we're talking about?"

Hawke took a deep breath, starting to feel ill at ease with Monica's questioning, "Maybe."

"I know it sounds crazy, this talk about alien technology I mentioned, but if this machine does what our informants say it does – it sounds like it might have been built using some sort of advanced technology that cannot be duplicated. We'd like to take a look at it – if we can."

"If I know something about this machine – what assurance do I have that you won't bring these two people to any harm," Hawke gestured towards Dominic and Caitlin.

Monica turned around and acknowledged Hawke's two friends, "I promise – we just need to ask a few questions, that's all."

Hawke replace his dark sunglasses and stepped back, "Not here, you don't. It's not safe. But there's someplace we can go, and someone else you need to speak with. Have you ever been in a helicopter before?"

Dana Scully gripped the edge of her seat tightly as the helicopter dipped and twisted through the air. She held her breathe in as they passed closer and closer to the mountain trees. Reyes tried to contain a giggle as Dana rolled her eyes at her, knowingly.

Caitlin let a devilish grip spread across her face, "There's nothing quite like flying to get the blood going."

"I'll say," Dana gritted her teeth glumly, "How long until we get there?"

"Just a few more minutes, "Caitlin responded.

"How did you come to work at Santini Air?" Monica asked, trying to settle the butterflies in her own stomach.

"Oh, well you see, I used to work as a sheriff in Pope County, Texas. I got into some terrible trouble there with a corrupt police officer. Hawke saved me when he came into town with – you know – some reinforcements," Caitlin faltered a bit, "Hawke's a good man. He's not involved in any of this conspiracy, I know that. Either is Dominic. They work for a government agency too, but I'm sure it has nothing to do with aliens."

"CIA? NSC?" Scully perked up a bit, interested.

"It's called the FIRM," Caitlin replied, "At least that's the name Hawke gives it."

Scully and Reyes exchanged looks before the helicopter took another sudden dip.

"Hang on ladies –we're almost there!"

The helicopter landed on a wooden dock which jutted out into the edge of a beautiful, vast, crystal clear mountain lake. It was a lake surrounded by pristine mountains.

"We must be deep in the northern California mountains," Reyes observed as she stepped out to admire the scenery, "It's gorgeous here."

Scully and Reyes followed Caitlin up the dock and towards the large, stone and wooden house that sat invitingly up on a small hill, overlooking the lake.

"We're here! "Caitlin called out as they entered inside, "Take a moment to relax. They should be down soon."

Inside, the FBI agents had a moment to survey the interior of the cabin. Reyes took her time admiring the impressive collection of artwork that decorated the walls of the cabin.

"Some of these look like originals," Reyes said.

"Oh, they are," Caitlin answered, "Hawke only collects originals. I don't know much about artwork, but I'm sure they are worth millions."

Scully scanned the various photographs on the wall. There were pictures Hawke in his younger days surfing; pictures with Dominic Santini; pictures of Hawke in Vietnam; and several pictures of a blond man with Hawke, also in Vietnam.

"Who's this?" Scully asked, pointing out the blond man.

Caitlin came over to look, "Oh, that's Hawke's brother St, John. He lost him during the war in Vietnam. Hawke believes he's still alive and missing in action. He's adamant about finding him someday. Sometimes I think that's all he thinks about."

Dana Scully pursed her lips, "I know someone like that myself. He lost his sister when he was young. He thought he could find her too."

Caitlin blinked with curiosity, finally seeing some warmth beneath the sharp manner of this other red-head, "How did she disappear?"

Scully smiled sadly, "Alien abduction."

Caitlin gasped, "For real? Did he ever find her?"

Scully nodded, "He did. She wasn't alive anymore. Sadly, she'd been killed. So his quest came to an end."

Caitlin shuddered, "God, don't tell that story to String, whatever you do. That would break his heart."

"String?" Scully queried,

"Yeah, String, That's short for Stringfellow. It's our nickname for him."

Scully smirked, "So I guess that is his real name."

Along the stairs, Monica Reyes worked her way up, slowly taking in each framed painting along the wall.

"That's a Van Gogh," Stringfellow Hawke said in a quiet voice. He'd been leaning over the banister, silently watching her progress along the stairway.

Reyes turned around, startled, but she still smiled warmly, "Your friend Caitlin told me these are originals. That's remarkable."

Hawke shrugged, "It's a hobby."

"Unusual hobby for a military man, "Reyes observed, "I hope you get to meet my partner, John Doggett. He's a lot like you. I'm sure he'd appreciate this collection."

Stringfellow's eyes narrowed, "How many agents are here looking into this?"

"Just the three of us," Reyes answered, suddenly sensing an emotional wall of distrust, "Agent Doggett is following another lead right now – but he should be joining us soon."

Hawke moved past her coldly, "Great."

"Mr. Hawke," Reyes reached out to hold Hawke's arm in a gentle manner, "You have to trust us – we're on the same side."

Hawke looked up at Reyes for a moment, hesitating. He didn't answer.

Below, Caitlin called out, "Hawke, they're here!"

Reyes followed Hawke to the bottom of the stairway, where she joined Scully.

Through the door came a tall man and a woman, both dressed in white. The man looked eccentric, mustached with one darkened glass over his left eye. He wore a white suit and he walked with a cane, although he seemed to have no visible limp. The woman was elegant, a light-skinned African-American, dressed in a flowing skirt and high collared sweater. She gave the two FBI agents a haughty look as she walked inside and took a seat.

Scully was surprised and slightly annoyed, "Who are these people?"

"Michael Archangel Coldsmith Briggs III, to be exact," Michael announced, his voice deep and authoritative. He took a seat by the fireplace, leaning his folded hands on his cane, "You can call me Archangel for short. This is my co-hort, Marella. Hawke tells me you're with the FBI."

Dana was wary and moved closer to Reyes, "I'm sorry sir, but before we go any farther with our questions, we need to know who you are."

"We work for the FIRM," Marella answered after a nod from Michael in her direction, "A sub-division of the CIA, but an underground secret organization. I'm sure you've heard of us."

"I'm sure I haven't," Scully countered.

"Well, now you have," Michael responded sharply, "So you and this so-called 'X files' are trying to investigate a government built aircraft, is that so?"

Reyes moved towards the fireplace herself, "Yes, we believe you and Mr. Hawke are experimenting with alien technology. There is a conspiracy that goes deep in our government that we'd like to expose."

Archangel suppressed a laugh, and Marella joined him, "Expose what, exactly. There are more conspiracies in the government than you can count. We, however, are using a perfectly legal aircraft for government approved missions. This has nothing to do with the FBI, so I believe you have been led to a dead end."

"Does this machine have a name?" Scully asked.

The room fell silent.

"Airwolf," Stringfellow Hawke said evenly, watching Scully from across the room.

Michael flinched, "That's enough, Hawke."

Hawke bristled at Michael's comment.

"Airwolf," Monica Reyes repeated, "That sounds like some sort of Stephen King creature."

"It's a Mach-1, advanced, supersonic helicopter with stealth capabilities and an advanced arsenal, capable of single-handedly operating covert military operations overseas," Marella explained easily.

Michael cast Marella a hot look.

"Sorry," Marella responded, "It just sort of – came out."

"What's it doing flying around southern California?" Scully asked.

"Obviously, it's under cover as a UFO!" Dominic chimed in.

"Who built this machine? Why hasn't it ever been replicated?" Agent Reyes asked.

"The man who built Airwolf was Dr Charles Henry Moffett," Michael explained coolly, "He was a brilliant scientist, but also a mad-man and a traitor. He's dead. I sent Hawke to Libya to kill this man after he took Airwolf and left the country. Moffett was the 'man behind the machine', you could say. Without Moffett, the government hasn't been able to replicate Airwolf, although God knows they've tried. Airwolf is a one of a kind machine, and it's important for our national security. There's no conspiracy behind it. It is what it is."

Scully crossed her arms and sat down beside Dominic Santini on the long sofa, not taking her eyes off of Archangel, "Can we see this machine?"

"Absolutely not," Michael responded in a booming voice, "As far as you are concerned, it doesn't exist. This is as much as you need to know about Airwolf."

"How come neither of you seem at all surprised by the suggestion of alien technology?" Reyes asked.

Caitlin and Santini turned to watch Michael and Marella's reaction to the question.

Michael pushed his glasses up to the bridge of his nose nervously, "It's an absurb suggestion."

"Completely absurb," Marella echoed, but the passion in her voice was muted.

"Michael, I'd like to have a word with you," Hawke said.

Archangel looked up at Hawke, obviously trying to control his emotions, "Not now, Hawke."

"In private," Hawke growled, stalking outside to the porch.

"If you'll excuse me," Michael sighed as he stood up and followed Hawke outside in the cool mountain air.

"Aliens! Good grief. Anyone need a drink?" Dominic asked as he moved to the kitchen, "Because I sure do!"

"I'll take a beer please," Caitlin said, "You ladies drink beer?"

"Why not," Reyes replied, receiving a shocked stare from Dana across the living room.

"Michael, there's something you're not telling me," Hawke looked Michael in the eyes, accusingly, "Was Moffett working with some other government agency when he built Airwolf? Was someone else giving him secret information on how to create it? There are things about Airwolf even I can't explain sometimes. It feels like she's alive under all that black armor. Dominic feels it too."

Michael scoffed out loud, "Would you listen to yourself, Hawke. You sound as crazy as Moffett. There is nothing alien about Airwolf. You know her inside and out. You've worked on her, you've taken her apart and put her back together again countless times. What else do you want me to say?"

"How about the truth for once!" Hawke shouted.

Archangel stiffened, "Hawke, I'm not going to tell you that Airwolf is a UFO."

"That's not what I'm asking you, Michael. Who was Moffett working with when he built her?"

Archangel ground his teeth in anger, studying Hawke's eyes.

"If you don't tell me, I'm going right back in that room and I'm going to take those two FBI agents straight to Airwolf so they can see her for themselves."

"I can't let you do that."

"You try and stop me then," Hawke said as he started to walk away.

"Hawke, wait!" Michael said, "I'll tell you what you want to know- but I don't trust the FBI. We can't share this information with them – do you understand that? Do you want to put Airwolf in jeopardy?"

Hawke stopped in his tracks, keeping his back turned, "Maybe they can help me find St. John."

"Is that what this is about? Are you trying to blackmail me?"

"Here's the deal. You come back in that room and you tell those two FBI agents everything you know about Airwolf and Moffett," Hawke had turned now to lock eyes with Michael, "Then - I'll think about whether or not I'll keep Airwolf's location a secret from the FBI."

Archangel's jaw dangled open in surprise as Hawke walked back into the cabin. He remained there, frozen and in shock.

Marella's face was etched in concern as Hawke came back inside. She saw the hot look in his eyes and knew something dreadful had occurred between Hawke and Archangel. She admired Hawke in so many ways, but her loyalty was to Archangel first and foremost. The thought of Michael being put in an awkward circumstance made her angry beyond reason. Her hands become clenched fists as she watched Hawke coolly make his way towards Santini. He obviously was avoiding her glare.

Scully stood up, aware of the tension, "Where did Archangel go?"

"He'll be here in a moment," Hawke replied, taking a glass of wine from Dominic,"I think you'll be interested in his story."

Marella jumped to her feet, "I think we'll be leaving now."

"It's OK, Marella," Michael spoke solemnly as he stepped back inside, "I have a bit of information I'd like to share with the FBI. Then we'll be on our way."

Marella took her seat again, cautiously.

"Please, tell us what you know," Reyes said anxiously.

Michael started to pace, rubbing his mustache in deep thought, "Dr. Charles Moffett, as far as I know, knew a few gentleman within the government that offered to give him some advanced technology when he started work on his Airwolf project."

Scully looked concerned, "Do you know the names of these men?"

Archangel looked at Scully, "Do you?"

"Unforunately, yes. I know of a group called the Syndicate. I know of a man called Spender, CGB Spender, also known as the Cigarette Smoking Man."

Archangel shrugged, "I've never heard of these men, or groups. All I know is that Moffett was a brilliant man. He may have had help building Airwolf. Like I said, this machine has not been replicated. Moffett was able to merge a bit of his personality within the machine. Hawke almost died when Airwolf reverted back to Moffett's control – after Moffett was dead! Only freezing Airwolf's entire controls at a high altitude seemed to cure the problem. It's a remarkable machine, but nothing that cannot be explained as man-made. It's not alien technology."

"Why do you keep it hidden then?" Scully asked, "Why is it so secret?"

Marella looked uneasy, "We use Airwolf for secret military covert operations. Hawke, Mr. Santini and Ms. O'Shannessy agree to pilot Airwolf on certain missions that Archangel approves."

"You mean covert operations that the American public has no knowledge of?" Scully asked.

"Indeed," Michael answered.

Reyes approached Archangel, "If we could just take a look at Airwolf, this would answer all our questions. If it's alien or not, we just need to see her to decide for ourselves. I promise, we won't divulge your operations. That's not our intention. We just need proof if this alien technology is being used."

Archangel paused and looked across the room at Hawke, who stared mutely back at him, "It's your call, Hawke."

"Let's do it," Hawke answered finally, a gleam in his eye.

Reyes, Scully and Doggett stood together on a deserted airstrip in the middle of the California desert. The hot Mojave wind whipped against their clothes. Doggett pulled at his tie in misery.

"I'm going to burn up out here before I get a chance to see this so called 'alien spaceship," Doggett murmured.

"It's not an 'alien spaceship', John," Reyes said, squinting into the bright sun, "It's a supersonic helicopter. But the way the Lone Gunman described it from their surveillance video, it certainly has alien aspects."

"What did you find today, Agent Doggett?" Scully asked. She still found it hard to call Doggett by his first name. It made her distinctly uncomfortable. John Doggett seemed to have a driven quality to overprotect her. It made her feel awkwardly feminine and at odds with her job.

"I spent half my day driving in circles around the Monument Valley area. The Navajos were not very friendly to an FBI agent, as you'll understand," Doggett sighed, his eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses, "So I drove out on some desolate roads in the area known as the Valley of the Gods. That's where the Hidden Gunman told me they'd seen most of the activity. I didn't find a thing."

"We're just lucky they're going to let us see this machine," Reyes said.

"It doesn't do us any good if we can't bring it with us. Director Kirsch wants proof, remember?" Doggett replied, agitated.

"We can't start a war within the government, John. The FBI and this so called FIRM probably would rip each other apart!" Reyes explained.

"Do you hear that?" Scully asked abruptly.

A screaming sound that reminded Doggett of a caged animal of some kind shattered the air around them. Instinctively, all three agents ducked low. The black-armored helicopter banked low and zoomed past them. The air seemed to crack and thunder as it rumbled past. It flipped in a backwards loop and disappeared straight into the sky. A sonic boom rumbled and shook the ground.

"Mother of God," Doggett gasped.

Airwolf returned again, this time flashing and firing cannons and bullets into the empty desert behind the airfield. Flames and fire leapt from the explosions with apocalyptic power. The blackened windows of the helicopter gave it an ominous appearance as it flew past. It came to a sudden stop, its nose lingering directly at the FBI agents. It hovered like a death-machine, its blades kicking up the fine desert sand.

John Doggett had a horrible feeling for a split second that the guns would blaze and wipe them all into oblivion. But slowly, Airwolf landed on the airstrip, its engines coming slowly down and to a halt. The doors opened, and Stringfellow Hawke appeared out of the pilots door, dressed in a silver, streamlined flight suit.

Behind him one of the Santini's stunt helicopters appeared and landed. Out climbed Dominic, Caitlin, Marella and Archangel.

The groups walked towards each other, meeting at the nose of Airwolf.

John Doggett reached out his hand, "Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Hawke. I've never seen such flying in all my life. I don't think the 'copter is alien, but you might be!"

For the first time, Stringfellow let out a relieved laugh, "You must be Agent Doggett, the other FBI agent." Hawke shook Doggett's hand.

"So," Archangel looked proudly at Airwolf, "This is what you call alien technology?"

Scully winced at Archangel's tone, "Do you mind if I look inside?"

"Be my guest," Hawke gestured to the open door of the helicopter.

Scully climbed inside, and moved into the back of the chopper. She observed in utter admiration the high-tech glittering lights, the panel screens, the various keys and pads. It was an amazing piece of machinery before her.

Hawke watched her closely from behind the pilot's seat.

Scully let her eyes move away from the gleaming panels of the choppers main controls to Hawke's face, "What do you believe, Mr. Hawke. Do you think this machine is somehow…alien compared to other helicopters you've flown?"

Hawke shrugged, "It's certainly a different animal. Sometimes I think it's actually alive. It seems to think and feel. But, that could also be a pilot's prejudice. Just like when you think your car knows you. But Moffett was as corrupt as they come. If he could get his hands on some sort of advanced technology, he would have done it. But aliens? You've actually seen aliens?"

"Seen them, no," Scully turned her eyes back to the control panels, "But seen evidence of them, yes. There's no way to prove how this helicopter was built, Mr. Hawke. But I'd like to be able to have someone examine it if possible."

Hawke shook his head slowly, "Do you know if your FBI friends would have any way of finding out about an MIA?"

Scully was taken aback, "You mean missing?"

Hawke shifted awkwardly, his eyes downcast, "My brother is still in Southeast Asia, Ms. Scully. I know he's alive. Archangel has promised to help me find him, but I'd like to know if you could help me."

Scully felt a pang of emotion suddenly, and she thought of Mulder and his quest.

"Mr. Hawke, or, I guess as your friends call you, String…"

Hawke nodded, anxious to hear Scully's answer.

"I don't think the FBI has any more power to find your brother than this FIRM does. It's within you to find the answers. They're there – you just have to have the courage to look," Scully smiled sweetly, keeping the tears from her eyes as she thought of Mulder.

Stringfellow tried to keep the emotion from his face as well, "Thank you anyway, Ms. Scully."

"So, who were the 'informants' you mentioned that had photographs of Airwolf?" Marella asked Agent Doggett, "We'd be very interested in meeting with them."

"Well, I'd rather not say," Doggett responded, "They'd be a little surprised to find you at their doorstep, I'm sure."

"I can assure you, we're perfectly harmless," Marella smiled wickedly, giving Agent Doggett a subtle look up and down.

"I'm sure," Doggett laughed.

Monica Reyes moved towards Scully and Hawke as they emerged from Airwolf, "Well, Dana, what did you see?"

"Nothing that can't be explained as basic high-technology," Scully confessed, "It's an impressive bit of machinery. Without a thorough examination, we can't say for sure what type of 'alien/Roswell' technology may have been obtained to create it."

"I'm afraid Dr. Charles Moffett took any of that information to his grave, Agent Scully," Archangel said triumphantly, "Now, if you'll excuse us, I think we've indulged the FBI enough for one day."

Archangel gave a sharp nod to Dominic Santini and Marella and strode away arrogantly, giving Hawke a long, suspicious look as he walked past.

"Take good care of her, Hawke. I hope she's back in hiding very soon."

Hawke maintained Archangel's gaze, "She will be. I promise."

"It's been interesting," Dominic waved goodbye as he ushered Archangel and Marella back to the Santini chopper, "If you ever do run into any aliens, tell them not to drop by our neck of the woods!"

"C'mon Caitlin, let's go," Hawke called out harshly.

"Mr. Hawke," John Doggett ran up to the pilot, holding him by the arm, "Wait just a minute. It seems to me that white-clad son of a bitch pulls your strings, but you're the one that controls this chopper. We can protect you if you want to come with us. Don't let that man keep you from knowing the truth!"

Hawke flinched visibly under Doggett's hold, wrenching his arm away angrily, "It's not that easy!"

Caitlin came running up to Hawke, her fighting instincts flaring, "Hey Mister, hands off!"

Monica Reyes tried to wedge herself in between Doggett and Hawke, "Please John, wait a minute. Look, Mr. Hawke, we really appreciate your demonstration here, but it doesn't help us. We need to take a closer look at this machine. It's in all our best interests to expose the men who have deceived the American public about things such as this alien technology. It seems to all of us that Archangel is one of them…are you sure who's side your on?"

Stringfellow took Caitlin by the waist and steered her towards Airwolf, "You don't understand. Archangel's the only chance I have to find my brother. Even if Airwolf is made from this technology, she's the only bargaining chip I have left. Archangel doesn't even know where I keep her, and I'm sure as hell not going to tell you."

"String, maybe we can help. I don't know how, but I might be able to find a way to use my connections in the FBI to find your brother," Scully offered desperately, "You want to know the truth and you want justice – that's what we all want."

"Caitlin, start her up," Hawke nudged the slim red-head towards the cockpit.

Caitlin quickly jumped into the helicopter and the hissing engines kicked into gear.

Agent Doggett's hand moved towards his pistol.

"John, no!" Reyes called out.

"We can't let them get away, Monica!" Doggett shouted back, but Reyes held him fast, "The evidence is right there before our eyes- you're going to let is just fly away."

"We'll find another way, John," Reyes held Doggett by the shoulders, her soft brown eyes offering solace.

The chopper's blades started to spin and spin, the dust and sand spewing like a sandstorm around Agent Scully.

"St. John Hawke, right? That's his name, St. John Hawke?" Scully cried over the load engine noise.

Stringfellow hesitated, frozen in his footsteps.

"C'mon Hawke, let's go!" Caitlin called out.

"I'll see what I can do," Scully stepped back, holding back tears again as thoughts of Mulder, and the lack of him, made her tremble with emotion, "I'll see if I can find him for you."

Hawke nodded to Scully, as if the two of them had made a secret pact. Then he jumped into the chopper and shut the blackened window. Airwolf lifted off like a demon, screeching away in a soaring arch. It disappeared in a few quick seconds, the echo of a sonic boom leaving its imprint.