Friday
Seven o'clock found Steve McGarrett sitting at his desk, where several file folders were open. A casual observer might be forgiven for thinking that he was staring into space, but closer inspection would have revealed the intense concentration in his dark blue eyes. Abruptly Steve stood, pacing the short distance to the lanai doors and almost wrenching them open. He stepped outside and took a deep breath of the cool morning air, attempting to clear his head and shake off the feeling of foreboding. The little knot of disquiet at the back of his mind had grown into full-fledged apprehension over the last two days. Although all the detectives saw death on an unfortunately regular basis, Steve had to admit that Danny seemed to have seen more than his fair share in the past few days.
Taking a last look at the early-morning sky, the Five-O chief turned back to his office, hoping that the day's routine of supervising the Governor's security would provide a measure of calm which his second-in-command so clearly needed. With his attention once again focused on the notes in front of him, Steve didn't look up again until his four detectives filed into the room, ready for their final briefing on the day's activities.
Several hours later, Kono watched mournfully as a serenely smiling Chin and Duke left the Five-O offices on their way to The Royal Hawaiian, where the Festival Queen contestants would be introduced. Standing in the doorway of Danny's cubicle, the big Hawaiian detective watched the door close and sighed dramatically. “That, bruddah, is what we will be doing this time next year!” he stated, emphasizing his words with gesturing hands. “We'll give the old guys a break and let them go to the business luncheon instead!”
“And which old guys will be needing that break, Kono?” Steve asked, as he breezed past the two younger men, shrugging into his jacket and straightening his tie as he headed for the door. “I look forward to your report on the luncheon. Aloha, gentlemen...”
A quiet chuckle sounded from within Dan's workspace, as the door snapped shut behind Steve. “After that remark, my friend, you'll be attending the Chamber of Commerce luncheon for the next ten years!” With a slightly weary grin that didn't quite reach his eyes, Danny gave Kono a quick pat on the shoulder. “Come on, you and I had better head out too. The Governor is going straight from the reception to the luncheon, so we'll need to be set up and in place soon.”
Continuing to grumble under his breath, Kono followed Danny out of the office and down the Palace steps. Climbing into Dan's car, the two detectives drove off to meet up with their HPD team and prepare for the arrival of the Governor.
O o O o O
The Festival Queen contestants put on a good show for the Governor and the visiting Japanese dignitaries. While Steve McGarrett generally avoided attending splashy cultural observations, this was one such event where he could not refuse the Governor's invitation. He stayed on the periphery, however, observing the security details and taking a moment to speak to his two assigned detectives.
“Well, gentlemen, all seems to be in order,” Steve said. “Did any issues arise that I need to know about?”
Chin shook his head. “Nothing out of the ordinary, Steve. When the Governor and the other VIP's leave, Duke and I will follow their convoy to the banquet hall. We'll touch base with Danny and Kono, then head back to the office.”
“That's okay, Chin, I'll take your place in the convoy. I want to check in with Danno myself, before he gets too tied up with the event,” Steve explained.
“Sure thing, boss.” Chin's eyes mirrored the concern that was in Steve's expression. “We'll grab some lunch, then, and see you back at the office later.” As an afterthought, he added, “Enjoy the luncheon, Steve. Hope it's as entertaining as the reception this morning!”
Steve gave a rueful grin as he moved off to rejoin the Governor. “Mahalo, my friend! I'm sure it will be!”
After seeing the Governor and his group safely to their limousines, Chin Ho and Duke left the Royal Hawaiian. They were about half way back to the Palace when the police radio in the car suddenly erupted in a flurry of transmissions.
“Shots fired! Shots fired!” A frantic, panic-stricken shout burst from the speaker.
“Gunshots... officer down!” A second voice joined the fray.
Duke had the lights and siren activated, and was turning the car around in the direction of the banquet hall when the third call came over the radio.
“Five-O to Central; this is Five-O to Central. Declaring a Red Alert, repeat, a Red Alert.” Kono's voice sounded steady, but both Chin and Duke could hear the sounds of chaos in the background. “Gunshots fired, officer down. Request ambulance and backup immediately!” As Kono's transmission ended, the cool, level voice of the dispatcher was heard broadcasting the call for backup. The two veteran detectives exchanged a worried look, then Duke pushed his foot down more firmly on the accelerator, sending the car speeding that much faster to its destination.
O o O o O
Dan's world had narrowed to encompass only the small space in front of him. Peripherally he was aware of jostling crowds of people, shouts of panic, and in the distance, sirens. All of the commotion, however, was the background noise that framed the pain-filled gasping breaths of his friend and former partner Mark Kahama as he lay on the ground. One minute, there had been an easy greeting and handshake between long-standing acquaintances; the next, gunshots, blood, and a horrified Danny had caught the body of his friend and eased him to the ground.
“Mark!” Danny quickly pulled his handkerchief from his pocket and pressed it to the gaping bullet wound in Mark's chest, realizing even as he did so how inadequate his effort was. “Hang on, help is already on the way! Do you hear me? Hang on!”
Kono dropped down on one knee beside Danny. “Ambulance is called, more backup is on the way, Danny,” he reported. “HPD are sealing the grounds off and starting a search.” Danny nodded his acknowledgement without complete awareness of what Kono had said; on a subconscious level he knew and accepted that his fellow detective would take control of the situation.
“Danny.” The pained whisper was almost too faint for Dan to hear. “Hell of a way ... to say ... hello, partner.” Mark Kahama grasped weakly at his arm. “God, Dan, it hurts to breathe...”
“Easy, Mark. Don't move around!” Danny shifted slightly, trying to make his friend more comfortable while maintaining pressure on the bullet wound.
“Careful, Five-O,” Mark gasped out. A ghost of a smile crossed his face in spite of his struggle to stay conscious. “Don't want ... to get your ... pretty suit ... dirty.”
Danny choked off a laugh that threatened to erupt as a sob. “Not likely, Patrol,” he retorted.
“Listen, Danny,” Mark's voice was growing weaker. “Tell Malina ... I will always ... love her ... Promise me...”
“Mark, don't talk like that! You can tell her yourself!” Danny watched in alarm as his friend's eyes closed. “Mark, don't do this, man. Mark!” Looking up, he saw the ambulance pull into the drive, and frantically waved to get the attendants' attention. “Hurry, over here!”
Minutes later Duke and Chin arrived at the scene, passing the departing ambulance as they wheeled into the banquet hall's parking lot. Exiting the vehicle quickly, both men looked for a familiar face in the milling crowds of people and police officers.
Kono emerged from the melee and immediately hurried toward his fellow Five-O detectives. “Chin, Duke, am I glad you're here!” he exclaimed.
Chin looked around, a concerned expression on his face. “Where's Danny?” he asked. “He wasn't the one...” he trailed off, unable to complete the question, almost afraid of the answer.
“No, Danny's okay,” Kono was quick to reassure the two worried men. “It was his friend, Mark Kahama, shot down right beside him! He looked real bad, bruddah. Danny went with him in the ambulance.” Chin and Duke exchanged a relieved glance. “Steve is with the Governor and the VIP's, making sure they got away safely,” Kono continued. “He said he was going to the hospital afterward, to meet up with Danny.”
“Right.” Chin's succinct response and brisk nod brought them back to the task at hand. “Let's get finished up here, and get back to the office. Steve will want a report when he and Danny get there.”
O o O o O
Danny Williams paced the waiting area of the Emergency Department at Queen's Hospital, tension visible in every step. It had been slightly more than an hour since they had arrived and Mark had been rushed into an examination room, an hour in which the scene at the banquet hall had played out over and over again in Dan's mind. The distant crack of the shot (a sniper's rifle, the analytical part of his mind mused), the screams of the crowd, and weight of his friend in his arms as he collapsed; these were the images and sensations that kept clawing at his thoughts in a grim, steady refrain.
“Danno.”
Steve McGarrett's quiet voice behind him caused Danny to jump slightly. He had been unaware of his entry into the waiting room. “Steve,” he acknowledged, halting his slow pace around the room to face his boss. “Is the Governor okay?” he asked, knowing that the politician's safety would have been Steve's primary concern once the shooting had started.
“Yes, Danno, the Governor is fine,” Steve responded. “But more importantly, how are you, Danno? Are you okay?”
“Yes. No.” Danny corrected himself immediately. “No, I am not okay. Mark was shot in cold blood, right beside me! Targeted by a sniper! I can still hear the sound... the sound the bullets made...” He stopped, unable to continue for a moment. Taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm down, Danny resumed his pacing. “You know,” he said, almost conversationally. “Mark could have been a detective years ago. He and I were offered the promotion at the same time; I took it, he didn't. Mark always felt he could make a better contribution as a patrolman, working the streets on a beat. He was comfortable there, and he was a damn good cop. And there's a lot of younger beat cops working out there that had the benefit of his experience on patrol.” Danny's thin veneer of control began to fray as he strode back and forth. “What did I miss? Were there signs of trouble I should have seen?”
Steve watched his second-in-command pace for a moment longer, then stepped in beside him to slow him down. “Look, Danno,” he began. But whatever he was going to say was halted when the door to the treatment room opened and a sombre-looking doctor came out into the waiting room. Following the doctor was a young woman, sobbing quietly, supported on one side by a nurse and on the other by a senior HPD officer. Steve's heart sank; the worst possible outcome had happened. He quickly stepped closer to Danny and put a hand on his shoulder.
Danny didn't need to hear the words to know what the doctor was going to tell him. But he listened to them anyway, bracing himself not to physically flinch from the official notification that Patrolman Mark Kahama had succumbed to his injuries despite the best efforts of the medical staff. Shrugging off Steve's supporting hand, Dan moved to where Mark's wife, now a widow, was sitting in a chair. Kneeling beside her, he took her hand. “I'm so sorry, Malina,” he said, his voice cracking with emotion.
Malina Kahama raised tear-filled eyes to Danny. “Why?” she asked. “Why would this happen to Mark? Who would do this, Danny? What kind of monster would shoot my husband?”
Danny swallowed hard and gripped Malina's hand a little tighter. “We don't know yet,” he answered. “But I tell you, we will find out who did it. I promise you that.” He stood, maintaining eye contact with the woman. “His last words to me were for you, Malina. He told me to tell you... that he loved you.” Danny swallowed again. “I truly am sorry I couldn't keep him safe for you.”
Malina managed a faint smile for him. “It makes it a bit better to know he had a friend with him, at the end. Thank you for that, Danny.” She rose and nodded to the HPD officer. “I'm ready to go now, please.” With a final quick squeeze of Danny's hand she made her way out the door, leaving behind the distressed and shaking young man.
Steve moved forward and again placed his hand on his second-in-command's shoulder, but Danny recoiled from the touch, twisting away from the comfort Steve was offering. “She asked the right questions, didn't she... who, and why?” he said harshly. He stalked angrily toward the exit, but turned back to face Steve. “Why indeed?!” he shouted. “Just because he was wearing a uniform? Just because he was standing next to me?! Oh God, that's it, isn't it?” he choked out, the anger vanishing as quickly as it had appeared, to be replaced with a growing horror. “It's me, I'm the reason Mark is dead! It's all my fault!”
Steve stood silently, watching with dismay as his friend came to the same conclusion which had already occurred to him. “Let's go back to the office, Danno,” he said quietly. “Chin will have a report for us, and we can get started on our search for this killer.”
Numbly Danny allowed Steve to lead him from the hospital and seat him in the passenger seat of the Mercury. In silence he rode back to the Palace, oblivious to Steve's concerned glances, lost in a wash of dread and guilt.
Seven o'clock found Steve McGarrett sitting at his desk, where several file folders were open. A casual observer might be forgiven for thinking that he was staring into space, but closer inspection would have revealed the intense concentration in his dark blue eyes. Abruptly Steve stood, pacing the short distance to the lanai doors and almost wrenching them open. He stepped outside and took a deep breath of the cool morning air, attempting to clear his head and shake off the feeling of foreboding. The little knot of disquiet at the back of his mind had grown into full-fledged apprehension over the last two days. Although all the detectives saw death on an unfortunately regular basis, Steve had to admit that Danny seemed to have seen more than his fair share in the past few days.
Taking a last look at the early-morning sky, the Five-O chief turned back to his office, hoping that the day's routine of supervising the Governor's security would provide a measure of calm which his second-in-command so clearly needed. With his attention once again focused on the notes in front of him, Steve didn't look up again until his four detectives filed into the room, ready for their final briefing on the day's activities.
Several hours later, Kono watched mournfully as a serenely smiling Chin and Duke left the Five-O offices on their way to The Royal Hawaiian, where the Festival Queen contestants would be introduced. Standing in the doorway of Danny's cubicle, the big Hawaiian detective watched the door close and sighed dramatically. “That, bruddah, is what we will be doing this time next year!” he stated, emphasizing his words with gesturing hands. “We'll give the old guys a break and let them go to the business luncheon instead!”
“And which old guys will be needing that break, Kono?” Steve asked, as he breezed past the two younger men, shrugging into his jacket and straightening his tie as he headed for the door. “I look forward to your report on the luncheon. Aloha, gentlemen...”
A quiet chuckle sounded from within Dan's workspace, as the door snapped shut behind Steve. “After that remark, my friend, you'll be attending the Chamber of Commerce luncheon for the next ten years!” With a slightly weary grin that didn't quite reach his eyes, Danny gave Kono a quick pat on the shoulder. “Come on, you and I had better head out too. The Governor is going straight from the reception to the luncheon, so we'll need to be set up and in place soon.”
Continuing to grumble under his breath, Kono followed Danny out of the office and down the Palace steps. Climbing into Dan's car, the two detectives drove off to meet up with their HPD team and prepare for the arrival of the Governor.
O o O o O
The Festival Queen contestants put on a good show for the Governor and the visiting Japanese dignitaries. While Steve McGarrett generally avoided attending splashy cultural observations, this was one such event where he could not refuse the Governor's invitation. He stayed on the periphery, however, observing the security details and taking a moment to speak to his two assigned detectives.
“Well, gentlemen, all seems to be in order,” Steve said. “Did any issues arise that I need to know about?”
Chin shook his head. “Nothing out of the ordinary, Steve. When the Governor and the other VIP's leave, Duke and I will follow their convoy to the banquet hall. We'll touch base with Danny and Kono, then head back to the office.”
“That's okay, Chin, I'll take your place in the convoy. I want to check in with Danno myself, before he gets too tied up with the event,” Steve explained.
“Sure thing, boss.” Chin's eyes mirrored the concern that was in Steve's expression. “We'll grab some lunch, then, and see you back at the office later.” As an afterthought, he added, “Enjoy the luncheon, Steve. Hope it's as entertaining as the reception this morning!”
Steve gave a rueful grin as he moved off to rejoin the Governor. “Mahalo, my friend! I'm sure it will be!”
After seeing the Governor and his group safely to their limousines, Chin Ho and Duke left the Royal Hawaiian. They were about half way back to the Palace when the police radio in the car suddenly erupted in a flurry of transmissions.
“Shots fired! Shots fired!” A frantic, panic-stricken shout burst from the speaker.
“Gunshots... officer down!” A second voice joined the fray.
Duke had the lights and siren activated, and was turning the car around in the direction of the banquet hall when the third call came over the radio.
“Five-O to Central; this is Five-O to Central. Declaring a Red Alert, repeat, a Red Alert.” Kono's voice sounded steady, but both Chin and Duke could hear the sounds of chaos in the background. “Gunshots fired, officer down. Request ambulance and backup immediately!” As Kono's transmission ended, the cool, level voice of the dispatcher was heard broadcasting the call for backup. The two veteran detectives exchanged a worried look, then Duke pushed his foot down more firmly on the accelerator, sending the car speeding that much faster to its destination.
O o O o O
Dan's world had narrowed to encompass only the small space in front of him. Peripherally he was aware of jostling crowds of people, shouts of panic, and in the distance, sirens. All of the commotion, however, was the background noise that framed the pain-filled gasping breaths of his friend and former partner Mark Kahama as he lay on the ground. One minute, there had been an easy greeting and handshake between long-standing acquaintances; the next, gunshots, blood, and a horrified Danny had caught the body of his friend and eased him to the ground.
“Mark!” Danny quickly pulled his handkerchief from his pocket and pressed it to the gaping bullet wound in Mark's chest, realizing even as he did so how inadequate his effort was. “Hang on, help is already on the way! Do you hear me? Hang on!”
Kono dropped down on one knee beside Danny. “Ambulance is called, more backup is on the way, Danny,” he reported. “HPD are sealing the grounds off and starting a search.” Danny nodded his acknowledgement without complete awareness of what Kono had said; on a subconscious level he knew and accepted that his fellow detective would take control of the situation.
“Danny.” The pained whisper was almost too faint for Dan to hear. “Hell of a way ... to say ... hello, partner.” Mark Kahama grasped weakly at his arm. “God, Dan, it hurts to breathe...”
“Easy, Mark. Don't move around!” Danny shifted slightly, trying to make his friend more comfortable while maintaining pressure on the bullet wound.
“Careful, Five-O,” Mark gasped out. A ghost of a smile crossed his face in spite of his struggle to stay conscious. “Don't want ... to get your ... pretty suit ... dirty.”
Danny choked off a laugh that threatened to erupt as a sob. “Not likely, Patrol,” he retorted.
“Listen, Danny,” Mark's voice was growing weaker. “Tell Malina ... I will always ... love her ... Promise me...”
“Mark, don't talk like that! You can tell her yourself!” Danny watched in alarm as his friend's eyes closed. “Mark, don't do this, man. Mark!” Looking up, he saw the ambulance pull into the drive, and frantically waved to get the attendants' attention. “Hurry, over here!”
Minutes later Duke and Chin arrived at the scene, passing the departing ambulance as they wheeled into the banquet hall's parking lot. Exiting the vehicle quickly, both men looked for a familiar face in the milling crowds of people and police officers.
Kono emerged from the melee and immediately hurried toward his fellow Five-O detectives. “Chin, Duke, am I glad you're here!” he exclaimed.
Chin looked around, a concerned expression on his face. “Where's Danny?” he asked. “He wasn't the one...” he trailed off, unable to complete the question, almost afraid of the answer.
“No, Danny's okay,” Kono was quick to reassure the two worried men. “It was his friend, Mark Kahama, shot down right beside him! He looked real bad, bruddah. Danny went with him in the ambulance.” Chin and Duke exchanged a relieved glance. “Steve is with the Governor and the VIP's, making sure they got away safely,” Kono continued. “He said he was going to the hospital afterward, to meet up with Danny.”
“Right.” Chin's succinct response and brisk nod brought them back to the task at hand. “Let's get finished up here, and get back to the office. Steve will want a report when he and Danny get there.”
O o O o O
Danny Williams paced the waiting area of the Emergency Department at Queen's Hospital, tension visible in every step. It had been slightly more than an hour since they had arrived and Mark had been rushed into an examination room, an hour in which the scene at the banquet hall had played out over and over again in Dan's mind. The distant crack of the shot (a sniper's rifle, the analytical part of his mind mused), the screams of the crowd, and weight of his friend in his arms as he collapsed; these were the images and sensations that kept clawing at his thoughts in a grim, steady refrain.
“Danno.”
Steve McGarrett's quiet voice behind him caused Danny to jump slightly. He had been unaware of his entry into the waiting room. “Steve,” he acknowledged, halting his slow pace around the room to face his boss. “Is the Governor okay?” he asked, knowing that the politician's safety would have been Steve's primary concern once the shooting had started.
“Yes, Danno, the Governor is fine,” Steve responded. “But more importantly, how are you, Danno? Are you okay?”
“Yes. No.” Danny corrected himself immediately. “No, I am not okay. Mark was shot in cold blood, right beside me! Targeted by a sniper! I can still hear the sound... the sound the bullets made...” He stopped, unable to continue for a moment. Taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm down, Danny resumed his pacing. “You know,” he said, almost conversationally. “Mark could have been a detective years ago. He and I were offered the promotion at the same time; I took it, he didn't. Mark always felt he could make a better contribution as a patrolman, working the streets on a beat. He was comfortable there, and he was a damn good cop. And there's a lot of younger beat cops working out there that had the benefit of his experience on patrol.” Danny's thin veneer of control began to fray as he strode back and forth. “What did I miss? Were there signs of trouble I should have seen?”
Steve watched his second-in-command pace for a moment longer, then stepped in beside him to slow him down. “Look, Danno,” he began. But whatever he was going to say was halted when the door to the treatment room opened and a sombre-looking doctor came out into the waiting room. Following the doctor was a young woman, sobbing quietly, supported on one side by a nurse and on the other by a senior HPD officer. Steve's heart sank; the worst possible outcome had happened. He quickly stepped closer to Danny and put a hand on his shoulder.
Danny didn't need to hear the words to know what the doctor was going to tell him. But he listened to them anyway, bracing himself not to physically flinch from the official notification that Patrolman Mark Kahama had succumbed to his injuries despite the best efforts of the medical staff. Shrugging off Steve's supporting hand, Dan moved to where Mark's wife, now a widow, was sitting in a chair. Kneeling beside her, he took her hand. “I'm so sorry, Malina,” he said, his voice cracking with emotion.
Malina Kahama raised tear-filled eyes to Danny. “Why?” she asked. “Why would this happen to Mark? Who would do this, Danny? What kind of monster would shoot my husband?”
Danny swallowed hard and gripped Malina's hand a little tighter. “We don't know yet,” he answered. “But I tell you, we will find out who did it. I promise you that.” He stood, maintaining eye contact with the woman. “His last words to me were for you, Malina. He told me to tell you... that he loved you.” Danny swallowed again. “I truly am sorry I couldn't keep him safe for you.”
Malina managed a faint smile for him. “It makes it a bit better to know he had a friend with him, at the end. Thank you for that, Danny.” She rose and nodded to the HPD officer. “I'm ready to go now, please.” With a final quick squeeze of Danny's hand she made her way out the door, leaving behind the distressed and shaking young man.
Steve moved forward and again placed his hand on his second-in-command's shoulder, but Danny recoiled from the touch, twisting away from the comfort Steve was offering. “She asked the right questions, didn't she... who, and why?” he said harshly. He stalked angrily toward the exit, but turned back to face Steve. “Why indeed?!” he shouted. “Just because he was wearing a uniform? Just because he was standing next to me?! Oh God, that's it, isn't it?” he choked out, the anger vanishing as quickly as it had appeared, to be replaced with a growing horror. “It's me, I'm the reason Mark is dead! It's all my fault!”
Steve stood silently, watching with dismay as his friend came to the same conclusion which had already occurred to him. “Let's go back to the office, Danno,” he said quietly. “Chin will have a report for us, and we can get started on our search for this killer.”
Numbly Danny allowed Steve to lead him from the hospital and seat him in the passenger seat of the Mercury. In silence he rode back to the Palace, oblivious to Steve's concerned glances, lost in a wash of dread and guilt.