I do not own Hawaii Five-0 or any characters. No copyright infringement intended. Ever!
Notes: Hello all. I've been lurking and reading the talented stories on the site since getting out of the hospital about a week ago. I had to have urgent surgery and now I'm recovering for the next few weeks. This story was a germ that CinderH prompted to keep me from idle boredom. Since I'm not feeling well, I can only hope it makes sense and is slightly entertaining. It may be lacking in the overall plot department. I needed something to do and this is what you all get (I don't mean that badly!) - But I apologize in advance if its lacking.
* H50 * H50 * H50 * H50 * H50 *
CHAPTER ONE
Steve grinned to himself at the sound of Danny's hearty laughter. It resounded happily around the small gathering on the private island regardless of the fact that they were both firmly undercover in the setting. The two Russians joined in, as did Troy Sawyer, their undercover equal on the covert mission to put an end to an international arms deal soon to take place on Hawaiian soil. He, Danny and Troy represented the key middlemen tasked with bringing buyers to the Yakuza arms dealers. In this case, the entrepreneurial Russians were the deep pocketed buyers.
Troy had been under the longest and the FBI had every confidence that the operation would come to a head that very day after nine long months of introductions, negotiations and planning. At first though, it had been difficult to gain the core agent's buy-in, let alone his trust.
The man was a loner and he had become personally vested in his own deeply orchestrated role. He made it quite clear that he neither wanted nor needed help. The intrusion of two outside players not even part of his agency was met with reluctance and only an eventual grudging acceptance as his superiors made the orders an unequivocal edict. So with their knowledge of the Yakuza and at the Governor of Hawaii's particular request, Five-0 had become directly involved as the final plans were carved out and set in stone.
The loud laughter ricocheted again under the palms and this time Steve had to join in when Danny slapped Troy jovially on the shoulder. While Steve enjoyed an occasional congenial conversation with the man, Troy and Danny had slowly become better friends in the background of this larger mission. Danny proved exceptional at playing any undercover role and the strength of the genuine kinship he felt with Troy Sawyer only made that guise better. The Russians were enjoying themselves immensely and the seamless, uncomplicated relationship of their hosts continually kept them at ease.
Steve glanced over to the two stoic men standing well armed in the shade of the palm trees. Behind them, the yacht's dinghy lay on the hot sands. Beyond that, the beautiful Mariah bobbed gently in the deeper waters as they wined and dined the Russians for the first half of their business.
Marty and Abe were strong associates of the Yakuza. They possessed no last names, offered little conversation and even smaller personalities. Their well-armed and virtually silent presence on the operation was required by the dealer element for the obvious purpose of reminding the Russians and the American middle-men of exactly whom they would be dealing with long-term. To their benefit, the Russians accepted the severe presence of the two men with a noted tolerance and understanding. However, he and Danny were understandably leery of the unknown criminal element that they'd thus far been unable to deconstruct.
The two men did not participate in the afternoon's levity in any manner, shape or form. In fact, they had appeared to be mildly disgusted by the concept of such a lavish lunch on the private, very tiny islet. The plot of sand was so small, Steve would have classified it more as an elaborate sandbar if not for the few errant palm trees, ferns and spiky scrub-brush that managed to flourish.
Steve studied the men as they stood ramrod-straight in the limited shade with their hands folded neatly in front of them. Each had a semi-automatic rifle strung casually over their backs. Their unmoving military-like stance impressed him as they patiently waited for the elaborate luncheon to come to an end.
After a moment, Steve turned his gaze towards Danny who sat next to Sawyer in the shade. The two Russians were reveling in the heat of the day and insisted on sitting directly in the sun across from them at the large table. They're sun-starved skin was rosy pink and sweat coursed down their faces; but they were content and clearly enjoying every minute of the special event.
Coaxing his now well-established Yakuza connections, underlings had been organized in advance to arrive earlier to setup the fancy over-the-top posh banquet on the small spit of sand. Troy Sawyer had managed to convince them that the elaborate lunch would be a way to loosen not only their buyer's tongues, but their wallets. Without a doubt, the two Russians were duly impressed by the effort and becoming well-primed for the pending meeting with the Yakuza.
So, it was an oddly ethereal affair with an amazing array of fine china, stemware and food preceding them to their final private beach destination. It was out of place and yet perfectly elegant. But the meal and camaraderie were predecessors to even more elaborate business dealings. Within the hour, they would be on their way to a clandestine rendezvous with the primary Yakuza arms dealers for more formal introductions.
The plan was going down like clockwork and Steve slowly stood when Troy wiped his face with his napkin and sighed gustily in satisfaction.
"Shall we?" His friendly smile and calm nature kept the Russians completely relaxed. They too rose to their feet and Steve sensed the relief from Abe and Marty as they walked to the dinghy.
The party was over and the more critical components of phase two were about to begin.
With a grand smile, Troy announced their departure back to the Mariah. "Gentlemen. Shall we go now and rendezvous with our very kind benefactors?"
Steve hung back as their guests boarded the now floating dinghy first, followed then by Abe, Marty and Danny.
He nodded in acceptance of Troy's ongoing, casual demeanor and he hesitated briefly to indicate that the primary agent board the small boat before himself.
"So Steve. Let the games begin?" The coy whisper was risky at best with the mixed company and Steve briefly frowned in disapproval at the back of Troy's head. However, it was the underlying tone and the way Troy almost sarcastically stressed his name that suddenly bothered Steve the most.
Turning quickly to catch the mooring rope Steve tossed to him, Troy's face hardened for a moment before relaxing to a familiar boyish expression. It happened so quickly, Steve questioned what he thought he'd just witnessed. Waving his hand, he gestured happily for Steve to get on the dinghy so they could leave.
"Ready? Let's not take all day!" Steve narrowed his eyes at the too quick chameleon-like changes before joining the group and departing the beach for the Mariah. With his back briefly to Danny, his partner missed the odd exchange with Sawyer but he caught Steve's seriously puzzled eyes when Steve took control of the tiller for the outboard motor.
The mental shrug but sense of something possibly being wrong was shared instantaneously. Following the unspoken lead, Steve noticed that Danny stared long and hard at Troy Sawyer before smoothly recovering. Seconds later, he had rejoined the friendly banter with the Russians and Sawyer while Steve silently piloted them all back to the large yacht.
~ to be continued ~