Chapter 1

I

The sound of wooden boards breaking, their splinters spiraling through the air amidst puffs of sawdust, resonated as Steve McGarrett swung his bo and circled around his opponent, Lt. Ken Nishimura of HPD's Homicide division. In one swift motion, Nishimura thrust his bo at Steve, making the chief of police swerve to the right and swing his bo in a downwards motion to knock Nishimura off his feet. He crashed onto the blue mat, landing on his side, then rolling onto his knees and sitting up on them. The whistle blow from the instructor signaled that time was up and class was over. Steve walked over to Nishimura and extended his hand.

"That was rough, bruddah," Nishimura said as he got back on his feet.

"It wasn't meant to be gentle," Steve replied, making a wide grin.

"I thought when you signed up for karate classes, that you were a beginner," Nishimura replied. "It looks like you've become the master …"

An hour later, after showering and changing into suits and ties, they walked out to Steve's car. The other students were also piling out, exiting for the night. The evening air turned cooler from an ocean breeze and there was no moon out. The lights in the parking lot did not create much more luminescence.

"Next week, it's rematch time," Nishimura said. "I'm going to clobber you."

Steve laughed. "We'll see about that. I got the drop on you three times today. How do you propose to be more vigilant next time?"

"I've got your technique down pat," Nishimura said, tapping his index finger on the side of his forehead. "Every time you swing your bo, I'll get out of the way!" They both laughed.

They walked together till they reached Steve's car. Steve took out the key.

"Next Thursday, then?" Steve asked.

"I paid my one hundred bucks. I'm going to get my money's worth," Nishimura began. "Of course, I'll be here next week."

They didn't notice the car drive up at first. Despite the darkness of the approaching night, the car's headlights were not turned on. It was a light gray blue color. There were two people sitting inside, the driver and someone in the passenger's seat. Steve and Nishimura's inner alarm systems kicked up. The car stopped and the passenger side window slid down.

"Steve McGarrett?" a man asked. The man tried to keep from getting too close to the window, but Steve could tell he was not Hawaiian or of Asian descent at all. Steve hesitated before responding. He had a feeling those men know who he was and didn't need to ask.

"Yes," he said, cautiously. He saw the glint of a steel rod protruding from the darkness of the car window. A loud blast emanated from it, cracking through the silence of the night with a deadly roar. Steve fell back, clutching his left arm and gasping, clenching his teeth. Nishimura ducked down, scrambling towards Steve.

"Tell Jayna Berringer that five years are up," the man with the gun said. The window rolled up and the car sped away. People came running from inside the karate school and the parking lot.

"Call an ambulance!" Nishimura yelled to them as he took off his jacket and put it under Steve's head. Steve could only pant and moan in pain.

II

The hospital was quiet, though the noise was still too loud for Jayna Berringer to cope. Amid the whispers of the doctors and nurses about other patients, the whirring of a wheelchair that an orderly pushed by, and the intercom paging a different Dr. So-and-So every few minutes, her tension magnified the seemingly innocuous noises to decibels that would make a person scream out in terror, only to stop short of it and realize the reality of their surroundings.

Danny Williams, Steve McGarrett's second-in-command, sat next to her, trying to console her and assure her that Steve would live and his injury was not serious. He knew it did little to comfort her, knowing that the man who shot Steve was doing it to send her a message – a message she did not comprehend. Five years ago was 1966. Jayna was a rookie, having just left Intelligence and being hired by HPD because of her experience with surveillance and investigative work. Any suspect she had a role in sending to jail at that time was a prime suspect, and narrowing the focus to cases she worked on in 1966 made it easier to figure out who that prime suspect might be. She remembered closing at least three cases and taking part in ongoing investigations on five others. She would still have to go through all her case files from that time.

A Styrofoam cup of hot coffee, laced with cream and sugar, was placed in front of her, and she took it gingerly in her hands, quietly thanking Danno.

"He's going to live, but for how long?" she asked him. "It was a warning shot, but they won't stop there."

Danno put his hand on her shoulder. "We'll get them next time, Jayna," he assured her. "They won't win. We'll put a guard on Steve around the clock …"

The doctor came out into the waiting room, his hands thrust into the pockets of his white coat and approached the detectives.

Danno recognized him as Dr. Winthrop, who they met on a case last year.

"Hello, Williams," Dr. Winthrop said. "Nice to see you again, though I wish it were under more pleasant circumstances."

"Likewise, Doctor," Danno said. He pointed to Jayna. "Dr. Winthrop, this is Jayna Berringer. She works with Steve and me." Jayna and Dr. Winthrop shook hands.

"Nice to meet you," Dr. Winthrop said. Jayna managed a weak smile. She didn't have the energy to respond verbally, and Dr. Winthrop understood.

"We removed the bullet and administered antibiotics," he said. "There was no vital tissue or nerve damage, and no damage to any arteries. He has to stay in the hospital for at least six days, so we can make sure he doesn't get any infections. You can give him whatever protection he needs."

"Can we see him now?" Jayna asked, impassively. She was keeping her emotions in check as part of her way of keeping herself together.

"You can, but only for a few minutes," Dr. Winthrop answered. "He needs to sleep, and he's coming out of the anesthesia about now and will be groggy."

"You can go in," Danno told her. "I'll be outside if you need me."

III

Steve McGarrett rested quietly on his back in a bed that was in the center of the wall opposite the door as Jayna entered. His left arm was wrapped in a blue and white sling and bent at the elbow. His left hand lay placidly across his chest. His soft, dark brown hair was strewn about his forehead and tufts of it stuck out from where the sides of his head met the puffy pillow. In deep sleep, he looked so peaceful that Jayna didn't have the heart to wake him. She leaned over, and kissed him on the forehead. Steve stirred, his eye still closed. He exhaled through his nose, letting out a soft, deep huff, then slowly opened his eyes and wrinkled his nose.

"Jayna," he said softly. "What say you?"

Jayna picked up Steve's right hand, gently pressing her fingers onto his. It was strange what things people noticed, even in times of crisis. The room was cooler than the hallway. The air conditioning was just the right temperature, allowing Steve a comfortable rest. The sunlight crept in from the window over the bed, landing in the middle of the floor and outlining the silhouettes of the palm trees outside, the jaggedly edge of their leafy shadows stretched out to resemble serrated knives.

"I'm sorry, Steve," she said.

"Sorry for what?" he asked. His blue eyes were the color of the ocean on a sunny day. Though the face can lie, the eyes don't. There was no anger on Steve's face, and his eyes proved it.

"For getting you shot." Jayna was starting to sweat, despite the cooler temperature. Did Steve not know why he was in that hospital bed?

"I told you that when you sign up for this job, there are risks," he told her. "I knew that I would make a lot of enemies, and that anyone could get me at any time."

"But this was not about you," Jayna said. "They were trying to get me through you …" She held Steve's hand tightly, as though if she let it go, he would disappear. "You're here because of me."

"Even then, your enemies are mine," Steve reminded her. She gently placed his right hand on his chest, over his left.

"I can't remember anyone off the top of my head … They're going through the files now."

"Then when you leave here today, you'll go back to the palace, look through your files, and try to find out." He was trying to assure her, make her believe that everything was under control. The reality of Steve lying in a hospital bed with wounded shoulder, from a bullet delivered to him with a message for her only drove the fear home more fiercely. They could come back, at any time, in any place. Steve would not be safe until they were caught.

"Did you see their faces, or anything inside the car?" Jayna asked.

"Only that they were white," Steve said. "I could see some of the shooter's hand. He had pale skin – not someone who spent much time at the beach."

"That was Ken's answer, too," Jayna said. "There were some people from the karate school who said they saw a strange car in the parking lot a few hours before you were shot."

"They were casing the joint," Steve said. "Getting the lay of the land, so they knew how to get in and get out fast."

"Did you always park your car in that spot?" Jayna asked.

"As often as I could, if that spot was open, Jayna," Steve answered. "Though there are about fifty parking spots, the karate school shares the parking lot with a Chinese restaurant, a beauty salon, and a dry cleaner. The parking lot is nearly full every night except Sunday. That spot is usually empty at that time."

"They had to have been following you, watching your every move," Jayna said, skidding her foot along the gray tiled floor. "That's how they knew exactly where you'd be after your karate class ended."

Steve's blue eyes softened, but maintained their sapphire sparkle. He looked at Jayna with affection, breathing in deeply, the pain in his shoulder subsiding, but the discomfort was still there.

"There's not much more that can be done from here," he said. "You're in charge of this case, Jayna. Danno, Chin, and Kono will help you all they can, and you have Che, Doc, and Manicote as well. I know you'll crack this case. I have the utmost faith in your ability to turn this island upside down to do it." He cracked a smile.

"That'll have to be the way," Jayna said. "I already have HPD scouring this entire rock. I told them to make this Priority One."

Steve managed a gentle laugh. "You're a good student."

"I had a great teacher." There was silence for several minutes. The only noise came from a car engine revving outside, and the nurse's paging a doctor on the intercom in the hall. Steve smiled again, just as the door opened and a nurse and Danno entered.

"Time's up. He has to take his nap," the nurse said, tapping at her watch. She entered, followed by Danno, who looked warmly at his boss, relieved to see him alive. Steve had already closed his eyes and was entering into a deep slumber. Jayna got up, kissed his hand and placed it back across his chest, and walked out with Danno.

IV

There was nothing more Danno and Jayna could do at the hospital, so they went to the karate school parking lot. It was still night, and the police officers and the yellow tape that cordoned off the area where the shooting took place made the reality of last night's shooting all the more clear. There were witness, all of whom told varying stories about what they saw, but the common factor was that they all saw a car drive up to Steve and Ken, and some in that car shot Steve.

Jerry Minobe, Steve's karate instructor, had already given his statement and left, but agreed to talk further if they needed him. He was inside the building and came out when he heard some students calling out that there had been a shooting in the parking lot. He ran out, saw Steve lying injured on the ground, and went inside to call the police. Two other students from Steve and Ken's karate class, plus the manager and an employee from the dry cleaner next door were in the parking lot when the shooting occurred. No one saw the car drive up, but they all saw it drive away after they heard the gunshots.

Two shell casings were found. The casings, along with the paint chip, were sent to Che Fong for analysis. The gun was a Colt Commander, and was found in the bushes at the end of the block. That was typical in a hit job. Hitmen don't use their own weapons, often using an unregistered weapon or one with the serial numbers scraped off and leaving it at the scene of the crime, content in the knowledge that it can never be traced.

The witnesses said they heard the tires of the shooter's car screeching as it drove away. She shone her light on the ground to check for tire tracks. The lack of recent rainfall meant very few people might be driving around with wet tires which could leave tracks, but there were still muddy ditches and puddles of water from lawn sprinklers and hoses. If the shooter's car drove through one of those, then the tires would leave those wet imprints behind. It was wishful thinking on Jayna's part, but being a good detective meant thinking of every possible angle.

An HPD officer was talking to someone outside the yellow tape. The man was in his forties, around five-six, dressed in a security guard's uniform, and appeared to be Chinese. The officer took him over to Jayna and introduced him as a security guard who patrolled the parking lot across the street. That parking lot belonged to a bar that was closing for the night.

"Jayna, this is Mr. Lin," the officer said. "He works as a security guard across at Jake's Bar across the street."

"Hello, Mr. Lin," Jayna said. She introduced herself. "What did you see?"

Mr. Lin looked eager to speak. "I saw a car pull into this lot … it was sometime around eight o'clock. That is when I make the rounds of the parking lot at Jake's. I saw the car come speeding down the road, then it turned into this parking lot. I thought it was strange since not too many cars are coming in here at that hour. I saw the car stop, then I heard two shots, and it sped away and a man fell down."

"Can you describe the car?" Jayna asked.

"It was either gray or light blue. It had four doors. I couldn't get a good look at the license plate."

Jayna wrote it down. "Could you see the driver?"

Mr. Lin shook his head. "No."

"Could you see anything else inside the car?"

"No. There was not enough light. I wish I could tell you more."

"You told us enough, Mr. Lin. Thank you," Jayna said. "This officer will take your statement." The HPD officer nodded and took out his notepad. Danno joined Jayna, looking around them at the few cars that remained and the quiet buildings nearby – buildings which now took on an eerie façade in their empty forms, like abandoned buildings, even though they were only closed for the night. The day was young but now, she felt so old.

V

Jayna pulled out a folder and tossed it onto the increasing stack of folders that accumulated on her desk. They represented every case she worked on since she joined HPD in 1966 and continuing into the ones she worked on for Five-O. It amounted to hundreds of convictions, some of whom were still in jail or on parole. Some had made open verbal threats, others she knew were thinking them. For a while, she wondered if this had anything to do with the case she took on for Intelligence last year. It caused a lot of anguish for Steve and the rest of Five-O, yet was necessary to preserve security for U.S. navy ships and naval intelligence in the South Pacific. Steve nearly died, both emotionally and physically. Jayna had no choice but to play the game she did. When it got too close, and Steve's life was in danger, she had to act fast and if she hadn't, he would already be dead. Remembering the look on his face when he saw her after he believed she was dead … it was an image Jayna could not erase, but did not want to forget. She vowed she would never cause Steve that kind of pain again but here, now … the pain came back – in the form of a bullet in his shoulder.

"Anything yet?" Danno said, breaking her reverie.

Jayna turned around from her position leaning against the doorway, staring into Steve's empty office. "No, not close. …" She went back to her desk and pulled out the file she had just tossed on the top of the pile. "This was from last month. He's been in jail for armed robbery …" She put the file down. "This is going to take forever. We've got nothing to narrow it down … Five years are up, he said …"

"Here's something." Danno handed her a report from the forensics team. "The blue-gray paint chip from the parking lot matches a type of paint used on Ford Malibus. HPD is checking DMV records for all Malibus registered in this island."

"Perfect," Jayna replied, her spark returning.

"And there's more," Danno added. "One of the students at the karate school saw a gray car driving through the parking lot that afternoon. There were two men in it. He didn't get a license number, but he remembered that the car had a dented bumper and the back passenger side door was discolored. He could see patches of rust."

Jayna pulled out three folders that lay closest to where Danno stood. The name on the tab of the first folder read, "Bartlett;" the second folder's tab read, "Robles;" and the last read, "Marquez."

"These were the cases I worked on in 1966," Jayna began. "Bartlett was Howard Bartlett. He was a bigwig in Hawaiian and mainland industries. It was the typical murder-for-hire case. His business partner had him killed so he could take control of the firm."

"Who was the business partner?" Danno asked.

"Frank Mays," Jayna replied, handing Danno the open folder. "He's doing fifteen to life for conspiracy to commit murder. The hitman was a guy named Rudy Chang. He was a local and couldn't keep his mouth shut. After two drinks, his gums flapped like a flag and all of Waikiki knew what he had done. He named Mays as the man who hired him, and the case was closed. Both Mays and Chang might have had it in for me, but Mays more so than Chang. I checked with Duke Lukela. Neither is eligible for parole this year."

Danno picked up the Robles file. "Nick Robles, one of Hawaii's most successful crime bosses, till you helped put him away," he said, smiling impishly at Jayna.

"And he has never forgiven me for that," Jayna replied. "He even threatened me in the courtroom, along with three other witnesses, John Manicote, his assistant, the jury, the judge, and the court stenographer."

"Did he make good on any of those threats?" Danno asked.

"So far, everyone is still alive," Jayna said, pushing an eraser along the edge of her desk. "Robles' lawyers were trying to find errors in the investigation to get him off on a technicality, but they found nothing that could stick. He was sentenced to twenty-five years for racketeering, and would be eligible for parole about now. They couldn't get him for any of the murders he was supposedly involved in, so they got him for the gambling, prostitution, and auto theft rackets he operated."

"We'll put him at the top of the suspect list," Danno said.

"Check to see if he was released," Jayna said. "I never heard anything about it, so he's either been rejected or is still waiting for his hearing."

"That takes us to Louis Marquez," Danno said. He read the corresponding file out loud. "Charged with three counts of bank robbery. Serving five to fifteen years. Eligible for parole this year."

Danno noticed Jayna's pensive face. She wasn't thinking about Marquez, or any suspect she put away. She stared out the window, her eyes fixated on something she did not acknowledge, only allowing it to serve as a target for her eyes, but not her mind.

"What is it, Jayna?" Steve McGarrett's second-in-command asked. Jayne slowly turned away from the window.

"Nothing," she answered. "I just feel that there's more to this than looking for someone about to go before the parole board …"

Danno shot her a sympathetic look. "That goes without saying," he replied. "But what else do you think lies beyond these three suspects? The shooter said that five years was over. That only gives us a narrow timeframe to work with. Even if we go back on year earlier, you were working for Intelligence. You dealt with people whose MO's went above a shooting in a parking lot with witnesses around …"

Jayna's eyes opened wide. "That's it!" she exclaimed. "We are narrowing the timeframe too much. We're focusing on people who were sentenced and sent to jail in 1966. Maybe it wasn't someone I sent to jail at all. There were many who got away, but not without some damage done to them …" Jayna thought for a minute. "There was a hood we were investigating for murder, and before we could present a case against him to the grand jury, he was killed when his car exploded as he got in."

"Do you remember his name?" Danno asked.

"Charles Tavitian. The file should be here …" Jayna picked up some folders and looked at their labels. "I remember he was a mobster, too …" She handed a folder to Danno. "He was running several rackets on this island. Then, one of his employees was found murdered, and another agreed to testify that Tavitian had her killed. He skipped town and fled to the mainland, but was picked up there by federal authorities for bringing a killer across state lines. He was sentenced to five to twenty. …" Jayna turned a page. "He was sent back to Hawaii to face charges for the murder here, but was killed in an explosion in Honolulu before the state trial could begin. However, his right hand man, Hugh Markatos, was released on parole last month."

"You think Markatos is behind this?" Danno asked.

"Markatos was not only his assistant, but also his field man," Jayna replied. "He hired extra help when Tavitian needed someone killed or someone's bones broken. Markatos might have hired the shooter and the driver."

"Then he's a higher priority than Robles," Danno stated. "I'll check on him, Mays, and Chang. You take Robles and Marquez," Danno advised.

"We can check all the backgrounds and alibis in the world, but it's not enough to keep Steve safe." Jayna pressed her hands together. "If these people could get him at karate practice, they can strike anywhere, at anytime." She looked at Danno. "They'll get Steve again, some other way. I wasn't there to prevent him from being shot, but I'll make sure that no one comes near him again."

Danno didn't question her. He knew how Jayna felt about Steve, and when she made a resolve to protect him at all costs, she meant it.