Thursday night.
"I don't know, Turk. I mean going legit with the police department is one thing, but an elite task force? That's a whole other Batman."
"Yeah, I know, but it's not like the guy gave me any choice. He basically shanghai'd me."
"Yeah, I see, wouldn't really be able to go back to HPD after he stole your case and spoke with your captain. Not without looking like a schmuck anyway. So, did you really deal him a right cross?"
"Yep, but only after he got me shot."
"Was that before or after driving onto the Chinese freighter?" his friend asked around a mouth full of what Turk was guessing was peanuts. Hard to say though, could also be trail mix.
"Before the freighter," Turk replied.
"Did he apologize?"
"Not without prompting."
"Ah, whatever happened to civilized society? So, all of this was on day one. Wonder what he has in store for you tomorrow. Sounds like I'd like him, though."
"You might but he is bat shit crazy and he doesn't have a ton of finesse," Turk stated glumly. "Never make it in the game. Would probably relate more to Basher, all the explosives and shit. Did I tell you I met the Hawaiian Legend?"
"Really, The Hawaiian Legend? Does he live up to his rep?" Even Rusty couldn't keep the awe from his voice.
"Oh, yeah. He pulled a Clark Kent on McGarrett and me without blinking."
"A Clark Kent? What'd you end up wearing?"
"An oversized T-shirt with his big ol' face plastered across it."
"Man, I'd have paid money to see that. Big bathrobe on you. Didn't recognize you, did he? That could be good or bad. But seriously, no matter what you decide, you know we'll always have your back." Even though it was said around another mouthful, Turk knew it was a heartfelt statement. "O, hey. Isabel wants an updated picture of Grace, so you'd better be getting her one or you might just find one of us on your doorstep.
"Nah, I've changed my look a little, but I might introduce myself, cause you're right, could come in handy. Thanks, Rusty, for the backup. Better cut this one short. Tell the gang hi if you get a chance and tell her to keep her shirt on, I'll get one in the mail this week."
Turk Malloy closed his phone but it was Danny Williams' eyes that looked around his shit hole of an apartment. "I'm screwed," he sighed to the empty room. It just became a lot harder to maintain his con.
After The Banks job, the gang had taken their spilt and went to ground, each in their own way. His brother, Virgil, went back to his wife in Utah, but Turk had felt restless. After Europe, he hadn't felt comfortable in his life and after wandering around a while, he'd ended up in New Jersey staying with some relatives who didn't give a damn about his past as theirs was almost as shady. His next career idea came out of the blue. He'd driven his cousin Eric and friends to the mall. Not wanting to give the kid a complex, he elected to sit outside of Macy's. Indulging in one of his favorite pass times, people watching. The local cops treated him by taking down a shop lifter outside of the store. He knew right there and then that he'd found a job that would keep him busy, fulfill his thrill meter and more importantly, keep him on the right side of the law. Before he could change his mind, he used his contacts to come up with a whole new identity. His name would be Danny Williams for the foreseeable future. (Danny in honor of his friend and Williams because it was the name plastered on the side of his uncle's maintenance van)
He hadn't meant for it to become a long con. It was supposed to be just long enough for most of the world to forget about Turk Malloy. A semi long con to let the dust settle so he could get on with his life. Well, life had "got on" but not as Turk's rather as Danny's. He couldn't really complain though. For a majority of it, Danny's life had been good. Despite a failed marriage, a crappy custody arrangement and a move to a pineapple infested hellhole it really wasn't all that bad. He had a beautiful daughter, a job he liked doing most days and he was making some good friends among his coworkers even if they insisted upon calling him haole.
Previously. Thursday afternoon
After McGarrett put two 9mm's into Hesse ending their 'first case', Danny couldn't begin to describe his relief that it was Thursday. He needed to release some pent up energy and anger. He didn't have Grace until Friday after school, so he'd scheduled some time at the track. The trip out there would serve two purposes; he'd be able to let loose and he'd be able to switch out cars. McGarrett's powers of observation were remarkable, the man was former naval intelligence and a SEAL, (though Danny would never tell him that without making sure the words dripped with sarcasm) and it wouldn't be too long before his new partner noticed that the Mustang wasn't exactly factory spec. Best to be proactive and start driving the Camaro full time as there were less modifications that might need explaining.
Danny pulled up to the garage he rented at the Hawaii Motorsports Center (it's amazing how well money talks), punched in the security code and waited for door to open. Skillfully maneuvering around the four cars already parked, he put the 'Stang in its spot and thought about how surprised Rachel would be if she saw what the unit housed. She still believed his carefully maintained innocence in all things related to motor vehicles. When they were married, he culled the image of man who knew enough to take the car in for scheduled maintenance and how to change a flat in a pinch. Rachel never questioned why their repairs bills were about half of what was advertised at the local mechanic. Just another piece of the puzzle that made up Danny Williams.
He hadn't taken the time to swing by home to change clothes. Instead he'd spent time "bonding" with the new team. It may have been time well spent, but it had cut into his drive time and he was still shaking his head at Kono's notion that they needed a name. Strike-force. What were they twelve? Using the efficiency bathroom, Danny donned cotton shorts, an undershirt, his driver's jumpsuit and his driving shoes. Now for the tough choice, which of his baby's was he going to put through its paces.
The Charger still needed some brake work. The Camaro wasn't prepped for the track at all nor was the Stingray. He didn't like the way the new Mustang was shifting, so that left the '66. With a 351 Windsor, 350 horsepower, the older Mustang would fill the niche tonight. Giving the car a thorough once over, he turned the engine over, not bothering to stem the small swell of excitement the sound gave him. Nodding to Tim, the gate guard, Turk pulled on the track, did a warm up lap and then opened it up. Twenty laps later, the tension had eased from his body and he was ready to call it a night. He headed home to call Rusty.
Friday morning dawned bright and clear, much like every other morning in Hawaii. The exception to this day was the persistent ringing in his head. Groaning, Danny rolled over to glare with one bleary eye at his alarm clock. Christ! The noise emanated from his phone. Who'd be calling a six-thirty in the morning.
"Detective Williams."
"You always sound so gruff in the morning, Danny?"
"Only when awakened at the butt crack of dawn. What do you want that couldn't wait until we get into the office, McGarrett?"
"Well, that's just it. I don't have a car yet and since it's on your way..."
"You want me to pick you up?"
"Well, if it's not too much trouble." At least Steve had the decency to sound contrite.
"Fine. I'll be there in forty-five."
"Why so long? You don't live that far away." Steve lost any points he'd previously scored with that comment.
"It's forty-five or you walk," Danny growled.
"Forty-five it is then."
Danny hung up before Steve could say any more. If he'd been awake enough, he'd have realized the phone call permanently set the tone of his partnership with McGarrett and if he'd had a cup of coffee in his system, he might have booked seats for him and Grace on the first flight to the mainland. Neither being the case, Danny groused his way through his morning routine and went to pick up his new partner.
Pulling up to casa de McGarrett, Danny took a deep breath to fortify himself for the day. Steve must have been lurking near the front door, because he was out of said door before Danny got the car in park. Danny took perverse pleasure in Steve's 'confusion face' as the man made his way to the passenger side of the Camaro.
Settling into the seat, Steve gave him and the interior a once over. "Correct me if I'm mistaken, but you were driving a different vehicle yesterday."
His attention occupied with backing out into the street, Danny responded with, "Hmmm?"
Slightly irritated at Danny's response, Steve stated, "Yesterday you were driving a Mustang. Today, you are driving a Camaro."
Having gotten them on the road, Danny sent a sideways glance at Steve and replied, "Very astute, Steve. You hone that skill in the SEALs?"
"Funny. Now are you going to answer my question?"
"I'm sorry, but I didn't hear a question." Danny felt like being difficult as payback for the wake up call.
Steve waited a long minute to see if Danny was going to say something else. When it became apparent the haole wasn't going to offer up more he sighed. Two could play this game. "Who is the legal owner of these cars you are driving?" His tone implying there was no way it could be Danny.
Already tiring of the game, Danny relented. "This one's mine. The Stang belongs to a buddy of mine. He was letting me drive it while this one was in the shop." He mentally congratulated himself for not busting a gut at the half truth that spilled easily from his mouth, while simultaneously reminding himself that he could never let his guard down around the SEAL.
"Was that so hard? Why didn't you just say so?" Steve asked like he was scolding a small child.
"Because you are so much fun to bait, Steven, and you called before even the chickens were up."
Steve couldn't help the smirk that crept onto his face and Danny couldn't help his own returning smile. Yeah, they were going to get along just fine.
The team spent all day Friday setting up their new offices. Danny was simultaneously amazed and stymied by the amount of technology the governor had brought in. All of it was high end quality. She was truly serious about making them an elite task force. Turk's fingers literally itched to put the new toys to the test (Livingston had taught him and Virgil a few things), but Danny was somewhat techno challenged with goofy thumbs. He'd have to wait for a time when the team wasn't around.
Trying to decide which side of his desk to put Grace's picture, Danny looked up to find Steve staring at him from the doorway. "Hey, Danny, why don't you and I go grab some lunch for the team? I'll drive."
Leaving his decision for later, Danny shrugged, "Sure, why not." If he'd known his acquiescence would lead to his almost permanent confinement to the passenger seat of his own vehicle, the words would never have left his lips. Steve drove with purpose and intent, like getting lunch was a mission he was determined not to fail.
"Steve."
"Yeah?"
"I understand you've spent the last few years chasing shoe bombers around the world in places where roads are a luxury, but here in the civilized world, we have these little things called speed limits and road signs."
"Really, Danny? I'm fully aware of those items, it's not like I didn't learn to drive in this country."
"Well, then. Would. You. Kindly. Remember, them and obey them?" Danny's volume rose to near shouting levels by the end of his request.
Steve's response was to screech into a parking spot and throw, "Hurry up, Danno, before the line gets too long," over his shoulder as he strode to the restaurant.
Danny inhaled deeply, held the air in for thirty-seconds, slowly let it out, made a mental note to order heavier suspension springs, recalibrate the brakes, add a governor then followed Steve into the restaurant.
The ride back to HQ reinforced Danny's earlier Camaro modifications list with the addition of the possibility of different tires. The rest of the afternoon was quiet and the team settled into their office. Danny was able get out on time to pick up Grace. Thanks to Steve, they had a wonderful time at the hotel swimming with the dolphins. He didn't want the weekend to end, but Rachel would have a conniption if he was even a second late returning Grace and he had an important meeting he needed to go to. Watching his daughter walk through the estate's gates, Danny swallowed his disappointment and headed towards a specific shaved ice stand.
Walking up to the stand, he was greeted with, "Hey, look. It's one half of my favorite white guy team."
Danny smiled, but waited until he was close enough so only Kamekona could hear him, "I was hoping to speak with the Hawaiian Legend."
The big man's smile faltered a little before he recovered. "Sure thin', brah. Room's around the back but it's for paying customers only." He dangled a set of keys in front of Danny.
Cherry shaved ice in hand, he accepted the keys and let himself into the back room of the shaved ice stand. He only had to wait a moment before the owner joined him.
The big guy's demeanor was all business. "I was wonderin' if you was gonna introduce yourself."
"You mean, you know who I am?" Danny's shock was evident in his voice.
"Nah, not for sure, but I was fairly certain you'd lived the life when you fell so easily for the Clark Kent. McGarrett put up a bigger fuss than you did, haole. Dead giveaway. So who you use to be, bruddah?"
"Turk Malloy."
Not sure what name he was expecting, Kamekona was surprised by the answer. "Shoots. Turk Malloy, huh? Vegas jobs, Faberge egg, Ocean's eleven, Turk Malloy?"
Danny cringed at the 'Ocean's eleven" reference, but grinned at the stunned expression on the other guy's face. "The one and only."
"Shoots. Haven't heard a peep about you guys in a long time."
Danny ran his fingers through his hair to give him some time to choose his words before he replied. It wouldn't do good to reveal all his secrets. "Most of us have chosen to leave the business. Too many enemies and warrants to want to garner anymore."
"I hear ya, brah. I like to keep my toes in the water, but nothing like it used to be. Gotta be careful, post Halawa. So what brings you to my fine establishment?"
Danny had the grace to look a little sheepish. "Well, I figured you'd catch on eventually, so I thought we could come to an understanding of sorts. A beneficial relationship that we could keep between the two of us. You obviously still have resources and so do I. I also don't want McGarrett to ever find out about my past."
Kamekona sucked his lips together while he pondered Danny's proposal. After a minute he nodded his head then slapped the shorter man on the back. "Yeah, I think that could be arranged. Can always us more aikane." He slapped Danny again. "Welcome to Hawaii, Jersey."
The meeting with Kamekona went better than he'd expected. He'd pulled the legend's jacket the day they'd met. It was unsurprisingly sparse. If half the rumors were true, the guy truly deserved his title. The cops only suspected some of it, he was that good. Too bad he'd gotten caught on something so trivial, but he'd done his time and, like Turk, chose to try to walk the straight and narrow. It hadn't taken them long to strike an accord. Danny found himself liking the big guy.