No Stranger to Hell
Chapter 1
This was written in response to an idea put forth by maggiemcgarrett. Thanks mags. It will provide a bit of closure for a character that makes an appearance in a following chapter.
Imaginary Beta is taking a break and this has been betaed by the lovely SPNgrn who obviously doesn't know what she's gotten herself into.
Disclaimer: Money is the root of all evil huh? If that's so, then I am positively saintly. In other words, I don't get paid to write this stuff, yada, yada, yada.
*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*
Too Early O'Clock
They straggled through the door, waved a greeting to the woman behind the counter then seated themselves at the large booth in the corner. Having been here far too many times at all hours of day and night, it is quickly becoming 'their' booth.
Lately, Five-0 members have spent more time here or at H.Q. than their own homes. At 4:50 A.M. on a Saturday, the only other patron in the place is a guy who'd come off his shift as bartender at one of the few taverns on the island that pours until four in the morning. Lolo Lola's is quite the lively establishment and had been the scene of many a late night/early morning scrap requiring HPD's intervention. As a patrolman back-in-the-day, Chin remembered meeting the tough barkeep a few times when responding to public disturbance calls. The man very probably deserves the gigantic plate of steak and eggs he's plowing through.
With Sunrise nearly an hour away and the moon still visible over the sleeping city they settle into the banquette curved around an orange Formica table. The coffee shop's décor is as though time had come to a screeching halt somewhere in the fifties. Some might charitably declare it a manifestation of 'mid-century modern' but to Danny that just means the place is old and out of date.
To be sure, Auntie's Cafe isn't posh or trendy. There are no plumeria blossoms floating in little crystal bowls on the tables nor murals of lush Hawaiian landscapes on the walls and there is nary a candle in sight. It offers none of those things.
What the aged diner does offer is any flavor of Spam you've ever imagined existed. A laminated menu boasts Hot & Spicy Spam or Bacon flavored Spam, there is Turkey Spam and Teriyaki Spam and even Barbeque or Chorizo Spam and, created especially for those connoisseurs in the great state of Hawaii, Portuguese Sausage Spam. This newest flavor is probably the most radical change to a place that had varied only minimally in décor and cuisine since before most of its customers had been born.
The tallest of the group, despite having eaten pretty much anything considered edible during deployments, (some things barely so), does not consider the canned meat a valid choice for breakfast or any other meal. Steve's distaste for the tinned delight doesn't approach his partner's well-known revulsion of pineapple but he still wouldn't eat it if you paid him.
Strangely, though Danny has aversions to many things: ocean, sun, sand, heat, humidity, and Hawaii in general; Spam he could handle. Steve thought it was probably due to his partner's disturbing affinity for grease and salt, (a craving sort of like those kids have who eat glue or crayons). If something could be fried in oil or butter, preferably after having been dredged in sugar, Danny was on it.
Without even looking at a menu they knew by heart, the group gave their breakfast orders to Mona their usual waitress at this hour. She always had a bright smile for them but it had apparently been a long week for more than just Five-0. This morning the normally perky woman seemed a bit subdued.
After requesting much needed coffee all around, Chin ordered traditional spam and eggs while Kono ordered the turkey version. Danny, not feeling particularly adventurous this early in the A.M., opted for chicken fried steak and eggs. Steve stuck with just the coffee.
"What?" Asked their leader as all three members of his team looked pointedly across the table at him.
"You knowwhat, Steven." said Danny as the cousins nodded their heads in synchronized agreement.
Steve rolled his eyes and chuffed, "Alright, alright." then looked up at Mona to say, "And toast."
"And a couple of fried eggs." said Danny to their server.
"And some of that new Portuguese Spam." piped up Kono; daring to shoot her boss a 'Don't even think of saying no' look.
Steve, now glaring at the last member of the group as though challenging him to add yet another item to his order, saw only a gesture of surrender as Chin raised his hands palms forward.
Pen hovering over notepad Mona dispensed an admonishing look toward the team then addressed 5-0's leader. "Honey," she said (using the endearment with which she addressed pretty much every customer), "Why don't I just bring you a bowl of baked oatmeal, okay? I know you've ordered it before and it's something you like."
As he shot his team a warning look Steve replied, "That would be fine Mona, thank you." He'd acquiesced to ordering another specialty of the house; cereal baked with coconut, pineapple and other things. Mona is right, he does like it but he'd woken up too queasy for breakfast – again. Still, if it would get his team off his back, he'd eat a few bites of the pudding like concoction.
Silently congratulating themselves, the team knew that if their leader hadn't been so exhausted he'd have recognized he'd been set-up. It had been prearranged that Mona would suggest the oatmeal after they'd earned their leader's ire by ordering food he didn't want and most assuredly wouldn't eat. Steve had galloped into the trap like Custer at the Little Big Horn. Chin, who'd hitched a ride with Kono, had called the diner on the way over and asked to speak to the waitress he knew would be on duty. He'd told her of their plan and she'd readily agreed.
Mona had noticed that over the last couple of months, the handsome cop who made her shift much more enjoyable had gone from looking like a guy on the cover of Men's Health to one more likely to appear on the cover of Vogue - all eyes and cheekbones. If I was his makuahine, I'd make him take care of himself, thought the sturdy little waitress. Lately, every time he'd come in, the guy looked even more worn than the time before.
While waiting for their food, the team discussed the reason for being here rather than home trying to sleep-in for a few extra minutes. A six A.M. meeting, its purpose to coordinate today's op with HPD, is to take place at Five-0 headquarters to make use of the sophisticated tools not yet in the budget for Honolulu PD. Chin would tap away at the magic table and whatever map, photo, chart or graph required would pop up on the big screens. After several minutes spent discussing what needed to be set-up before the meeting began, the discussion trailed off into exhausted silence.
Already worn to the bone after pulling several all-nighters and double shifts in a row, they'd caught this high-priority case. Having left work only four hours ago to go home and catch a few winks, they are now back at it again. Hopefully, this latest round of sleep deprivation would result in the apprehension of a pedophile who'd been stalking kids at playgrounds and schools all over Oahu and was suspected in the disappearance of a child two weeks ago. HPD hadn't yet apprehended him and the island's population was growing ever more spooked. Five-0 has been declared lead in the investigation when Denning sicced his special task force on it.
"So," began Danny, never one to allow silence for longer than a minute at most, "You think we'll get any results from what we put out there?"
While stirring cream into the dark liquid in his stoneware mug, Steve answered, "It's the best shot we have at drawing him out. If it doesn't work we'll have to start rounding up every sex-offender on the island and see what an hour in a shark cage can do."
"Maybe we should use your favorite method and just shoot them then hope they'll confess before they bleed out." supplied Danny; possibly more than half serious in this instance.
"There's that." agreed Steve
It had belatedly dawned on the SEAL that he'd been set-up; tricked into ordering the oatmeal despite his lack of appetite and ongoing queasiness.
"You look like shit by the way." added the blonde who'd gotten a good look at his partner's frowning face as the new light of day began to glow through the diner's large windows. Steve's pallor and darkly shadowed eyes were much more apparent when viewed in sunlight.
"Thanks." said Steve over the rim of his cup as he sourly regarded his second-in-command. He managed to ignore his partner's early morning churlishness; knowing it was only Danny being Danny.
Not just his partner but his entire team had been on him relentlessly since he'd returned to duty. At least Lou isn't here to add to the chorus. The big man is on his way back on a Five AM commuter flight from Molokai where he'd gone to check into another possible sighting of the suspect. He'd be catching up to them at H.Q.
He knows he looks like shit. All he has to do is look in the mirror. Perhaps, at this point, he should be glad they couldn't see the huge bruise over his hipbone and the ones on the fronts of both knees; evidence of a successful but violent takedown the day before. There were other bruises as well but he couldn't even remember how or when he'd acquired them. They'd seemed to just magically appear over the last week or so.
He blinked tiredly and then gave a small reassuring smile to Kono who was apparently having a hard time with their subterfuge. For the last few minutes, she'd been busily tearing the edges of her paper placemat into little pieces; a sign of unease.
Even though he realized it was done out of caring, it still annoyed the crap out of him that his team continued to watch him like hyper-vigilant hawks. Not wanting to admit it to anyone but himself, the exhaustion and queasiness is beginning to worry him just a bit as well. Until the last couple of weeks he'd felt relatively fine after having been cleared to return to work by at least three doctors. They still didn't know exactly what drugs he'd been given by that bitch who'd worked for Wo Fat but the toxins had cleared from his system. Four days after the incident he'd not had any further hallucinations and most of the pain was gone after a week. It had been pretty hairy for a while. As memories of being that bastard's prisoner began to besiege him once again, he gave himself a mental shake. This was no time to dwell on it; there is work to be done.
…
Danny surreptitiously surveyed his partner as they waited for their food. The man looks like ten miles of bad road. This morning a dark bruise was visible on his temple; the result of yesterday's flying tackle. Though Steve had eventually gotten his man, there'd been a three-block chase before the suspect had been taken down. In the past, their fleet of foot leader would have had him by the end of the first block.
The blonde sighed. Rationalizing his partner's lack of usual speed with the thought that maybe he was just tired, Hell, we're all zombies at this point, there is still a nagging feeling that something isn't right.
After that final run-in with Wo Fat, the SEAL had returned to duty sporting a few newly acquired scars. He'd also gone back to the angular muscularity he'd exhibited when he'd first come home to Hawaii after his dad had been killed. Over the last couple of years those sharp edges of both temperament and body had been smoothed. Though no less formidable, he'd lost some of the unyielding wariness of demeanor; as well as some of the angularity to arrive at a healthy sleekness. The guy who sat across the table from his second-in-command, at this moment, looked nowhere near healthy.
Even before Five-0's latest round of frantic activity, deeply shadowed and bloodshot eyes had greeted the detective every morning for the last week when he'd come to pick his partner up for work. Danny suspected Steve hadn't been getting much sleep since Catherine had left for the supposedly final time. Depression can have disastrous effect on one's appearance but this could be something more than just depression.
For now, the detective's overly tired brain let it go; there's nothing that can be done. He knew his stubborn partner won't let up until this case in which Five-0, as well as every cop on the island, are involved in is put to rest. None of them would.
Breakfast arrived and everyone dug in. There isn't time to dawdle. They needed to get to the office to organize equipment and materials before the others showed up. They could have put it together before leaving H.Q. at one A.M. but brains were so fogged by fatigue there was no guarantee it would have been done correctly. The meeting is to go over the layout of the fairgrounds, assign locations where teams and individuals are to be posted, and go over the strategy to capture the suspect.
Sunlight had begun to slant over the building across the street and spokes of gold invaded the diner as they paid their bills and smiled their goodbyes to Mona. If things went as planned, for most of them, this day would provide an ending to an arduous journey. For others, it would be only the beginning of one.
…
Bob opened the kitchen blinds and squinted at the early morning light. He scratched his belly and yawned. It was time to get ready for the big event.
He'd found the ruse used to lure cops away from the real target distasteful but hey, whatever worked. He still wasn't so sure his boss didn't get off on it though. Joining in the actual process wasn't something the guy would normally do but he'd actually assigned himself as one of the three men dressed identically and driving identical vehicles with identical fake plates. When they'd show up at their individual assigned locations outside school, parks, or wherever to lurk suspiciously for a bit before driving off, the guy seemed to get a kick out of it. The boss had been the one who'd approached the little girls and scared the crap out of them. When they'd all met up later that day to discuss results; he'd recounted the incident with absolute glee.
"Ughh", he muttered at the memory as he scooped ground coffee into the paper filter and set it into the coffee maker. He filled its water reservoir then clicked the switch to start the brewing process while thinking, After this, I won't have to make my own coffee anymore. I can just go to the coffee shop around the corner and order whatever the hell I want. Six bucks for a cup of flavored coffee with whipped cream on it is expensive but totally worth it.
Waiting only long enough for it to fill enough for half a cup, he pulled the glass pot away and poured himself some nearly black sludge. After drowning the stuff with artificial creamer he wandered into the living room to turn on the television.
Sure enough, there was one of those blithering newscasters on the local channel giving a report as a police artist's sketch popped up on the screen.
As he stood sipping his hazelnut flavored ink he thought it is was wonder they'd managed to find a guy who looked so much like the two of them. With dark hair, a beard, baseball cap and sunglasses, they would be indistinguishable from one another from even a short distance.
He yawned and scratched again as he wandered back to the kitchen to set the empty cup onto the counter. Time to get a shower and get ready for work.
…..
"See you guys there." called Steve toward the cousins as he stood squinting into the sun before getting into the passenger side of the Camaro. Danny stood another moment on the sidewalk, mouth open in surprise. Steve hadn't even tried to wrestle him for the keys. Now he knew for sure that something was way off with his friend.
"Hey" he said as he eased himself into the driver's seat and adjusted it forward, "You okay?"
"Yeah I'm fine." answered his partner in a tired and slightly raspy voice.
"How can you be fine if you're letting me drive my car?" demanded the blonde
"Just figured it would be safer for all concerned." said Steve with a small smile
"How so? I mean not that it isn't always safer for everyone on the island when you're not piloting a vehicle through the streets of Honolulu. And I'm using the word 'pilot' in a literal sense mind you as all four wheels of this car aren't usually on the ground when you drive."
"Well, considering that I've gotten maybe a total of six hours sleep in the last three days, it might be better to let someone else, anyone else, drive so that we all have a better chance of making it to our destinations this morning."
Danny was now really concerned. That Steve had admitted he was too tired to drive and may actually be a danger if doing so was tantamount to Donald Trump finally admitting it looked like a squirrel had died on his head.
Without starting the engine he turned to study Steve's face in the bright morning light.
"Daniel, if we want to get to our destination, you know you actually have to start the engine." grumped Steve, not willing to endure his partner's too obvious assessment.
"What's really wrong with you?" asked the blonde bluntly. He probably wouldn't get an answer but he'd give it a shot.
"Nothing, I'm just tired is all."
"Bullshit."
"Look, just start the damned car and get us to H.Q. The rest of the guys will be there in half an hour. I want to get everything ready before then."
"I asked you . . . "
"Just drive dammit!" ordered Steve in his commander voice.
Mumbling to himself, Danny gave up the interrogation and turned the key which sent the powerful engine into life. He pulled into the steadily increasing early morning commuter traffic and steered them toward the Palace.
*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*
So, something's up with our hero. Any guesses?
If you feel the need to take me to task for something, feel free to express your opinions. Unlike another character I sometimes write about - I don't bite
Would love to hear what you think of this first chapter.
Next chapter up on Sunday.