Hawaii Five-O and Streets of San Francisco belong to CBS / Paramount. No copyright infringement is intended.

This story begins a few weeks after the end of "The Cost of Pride."

EMPEROR NORTON'S REVENGE

Act 1

Inspector Danny Williams stifled a yawn as he signed off on the last of the reports on the Vashon-Nardini case. The preliminary hearing was scheduled for late next week, then it was back to Honolulu. He'd miss Mike Stone. The streetwise cop was a good friend, but Dan knew, had always known, he belonged with Five-O. He was looking forward to working with Steve again. He wondered what changes he'd find in the unit.

He rubbed his still healing arm and reached for the chocolate frosted donut sitting on his desk when a familiar voice broke into his reverie.

"It appears you've picked up some bad eating habits here," the voice chuckled. "Looks like I'll have to retrain you!"

"Steve!" Danny looked up at his friend. "I didn't expect you until the hearing next week!"

"Just checking that my new second-in-command hasn't changed his mind."

"No way, Steve," the younger man answered with a laugh. Then, suddenly aware of a hesitant note in McGarrett's voice, he pulled a familiar leather case out of his jacket pocket and held it up. "When you gave me this badge twelve years ago and asked me to join Five-O, it was the proudest and happiest moment of my life. When you gave it back to me . . ." His voice choked with emotion and he couldn't continue.

The tall detective squeezed William's shoulder. "Thanks, Danno." It was all the answer they both needed. "I'm just glad to have you back where you belong."

"I'm glad to be back. Where I belong."

The two detectives sat in companionable silence for a moment. Then, Steve, eyeing the somewhat stale pastry on Danny's desk, questioned. "Is that donut breakfast or lunch?"

"Both," the younger man laughed, "And maybe dinner if I don't get the rest of these reports done." He waved a paper at McGarrett. "But, you know, Mike does say donuts are real cop food."

"What else does he call 'real cop food?'"

"You don't want to know!" McGarrett's insistence on a healthy diet – except for large amounts of coffee – was legendary.

The men continued their banter for a few moments, when they were interrupted by a loud "Harrumph!" They looked up to see an unlikely apparition: a man dressed in a Victorian costume, silk hat on his head, cane in hand. He was followed by two large mongrels. "Only in San Francisco," McGarrett thought.

"Have you forgotten your manners, my good sirs?" the apparition growled.

Danny stood quickly and bowed slightly. "Forgive us, Your Excellency. I didn't see you come in." He turned to a perplexed Steve and added, "May I present His Excellency, the Emperor Norton, ruler of the United States and Protector of Mexico and the Caribbean Islands." Williams indicated the dogs. "And his associates, Bummer and Lazarus."

If anything, Steve looked even more confused. "The sooner I get him back to Hawaii, the better! Emperor of the United States, indeed!" He caught a "play along with it" look in his friend's eye and realized he'd get an explanation later.

Quickly falling into the game, if it was a game, McGarrett offered the newcomer his chair. Norton sat regally, then pointed to Danny's donut. "I assume you are about to offer me some sustenance?" Danny handed it to the man, then glared at Haseejian, who choked back a laugh. The Armenian detective quickly presented a cup of coffee. Norton munched Danny's breakfast contentedly, He did not offer any thanks – the donut and coffee were merely his due given his exalted position.

Danny waited until Norton had finished eating, then asked politely, "What brings you here, today, sir?"

The emperor paused before responding. It was as if he were trying to remember something. A message, perhaps? Finally: "I was treated most disrespectfully at one of my favorite restaurants, the Jade Tiger. A tall oriental man ordered his minions to escort me out. I expect you to arrest him. A night or two in your cells will teach him proper manners!"

Danny sighed. He'd been through this before. Norton was a regular informant, but not always a reliable one. "Perhaps you could describe this man to one of our department artists? It would enable us to make up a few wanted posters."

Steve, standing in the background, shook his head. It sounded as if his friend was describing police procedure from the late nineteenth century! He caught the grins on Haseejian's and Bill Tanner's faces. Obviously, this was a familiar happening.

As Dan, Norton, and the dogs left for another area, Williams motioned to Steve. "Why don't you wait in Mike's office? He'll be here in a few minutes. I'll be back as soon as I can."

o-o-o-o-o

Steve stood by the window in Lt. Stone's office, remembering a similar scene only a few short weeks ago: his surprise at finding Danno at SFPD; his continued sorrow at losing his second-in-command; Mike's words. "He's a good partner and a good friend. I'd be sorry to lose him, but if he ever wanted to return to Five-O, I'd let him go." He watched the gulls wheel and dive across the blue sky as he murmured a heartfelt, "Thanks. Mike. I owe you one." He studied the pictures on the veteran cop's desk. Mike's daughter Jeannie; his former partner, Steve Keller; Danno. His friend had a way of becoming part of people's lives. Steve turned back to the window.

"Steve!" a gravelly voice boomed. "Good to see you! Are you here for the Vashon case or to check on Danny?"

"Both," McGarrett laughed. "Speaking of Danno, he just took the strangest person I've seen in a while down to meet with one of your police artists."

Mike chuckled, "Sounds like you met Emperor Norton." At Steve's perplexed look, he continued, "His real name's Mack Jacobs. He's a Vietnam vet who got seriously messed up over there. Drugs, shell shock, you name it. He's been in and out of the Letterman VA hospital a few times. A couple of years ago, he adopted the persona of Emperor Norton, after a nineteenth century character. Panhandles down on the Wharf. He attached himself to Danny a few months ago – sometimes gives us reliable info. I think that boy feels sorry for the guy."

"He seemed to have some trouble in Chinatown – wants Danno to arrest a tall Chinese man." Something about that brief description suddenly bothered the Hawaiian cop, something connected with Wo Fat. He dismissed the thought. Wo Fat was in prison. Five-O had finally seen to that.

A knock on the door heralded Danny's entrance. He handed the two older cops a copy of the sketch. "Steve, Mike," worry shadowed his voice. "We've got trouble."

McGarrett scrutinized the sketch. "Chen Yu."

"Chen Yu?" a puzzled Stone echoed.

"Right-hand man of the Chinese Master spy Wo Fat. Five-O put Fat away a couple of months ago. If Chen's here, he's got to be planning something, gathering allies . . ."

"Revenge?" Dan questioned. "Break Wo Fat out of prison? Where does Emperor Norton fit in?"

"Maybe a pawn." This from Mike.

"Or a set-up," Steve interjected. "Either way, we'll need more information. Since Chen's here in the City, it's your jurisdiction. Five-O will provide assistance if you want. Chen is almost as dangerous as his master."

Mike nodded his thanks. "I'll set you up with some office space. You'll want Danny with you on this?"

"If you can spare him."

"He's Five-O," the SFPD cop agreed. "Always has been."

o-o-o-o-o

Emperor Norton folded his napkin. The Master of the Jade Tiger had treated him to a delicious repast, one worthy of his status – and all for delivering a devious message. His benefactor had seemed quite interested in his description of the tall, dark-haired police officer who'd been talking to Inspector Williams as well. Norton loved espionage and enjoyed playing the Great Game. Who would suspect him, the Emperor of the United States? He bowed his thanks and sauntered out into the twisting Chinatown alleys. The game would continue. He wanted to be part of it.

Chen Yu turned and approached a portly man sitting in the shadows. "The bait has been taken. The prey is yours."

o-o-o-o-o

Historical Note: Joshua Norton, better known as Emperor Norton, was an Englishman who immigrated to San Francisco and styled himself "Emperor of the United States." He dressed in a flamboyant military-type uniform, issued his own currency, and was accompanied in his travels around the City by his canine associates, Bummer and Lazarus. He died in 1880 and is still fondly remembered in San Francisco folklore.

"The Great Game" was a nineteenth century British term for espionage, especially in Central Asia