Aloha everyone! Welcome to Kalaka, or Truck in Hawaiian. Yep, I did my research. This series is going to run paralell to Hawaii Five-0, and then branch off into it's own alternative universe in future stories. As the title for this series suggests, this series is going to focus on trucks and drivers in Hawaii. Let's get started.

Tom Fortnell stepped out of the cab and into the Hawaiian sun. He had black hair, brown eyes and a military feel about him. He took off his cap, wiped his brow, and then put the cap back on. He had a grey T-shirt and denim jeans on him, different to the military uniform he once wore. As the cab drove off, he took in the building around him. A truck dealer.

Striding across the entrance, he stepped into the air conditioned reception area, noticing the difference in temperature.

"Mr Fortnell." The female receptionist called.

"Yeah." Tom walked over.

"Which truck do you want to pick up?"

"The one I bought." He laughed. "OK, it's a 2011 Freightliner Coronado in orange."

The receptionist checked her computer. "Yes. Your truck is just over by the garage."

"Thank you." Tom turned around and walked back outside into the Hawaiian heat.

Back outside, Tom took in the sight of various big rigs. Peterbilts, Kenworths, Sterlings, Western Stars. But he knew that his truck was a Freightliner, so that narrowed down his search. He contentrated his search at a row of trucks that stretched from the garage at one end of the lot, all the way to the reception area at the other end. He could see that most of the trucks were Freightliners, with a few Sterlings and Western Stars mixed in. Tom walked down the aisle, taking in the sight of dozens of big rigs. He could even make out a few rigs he recognized from research he'd done: Argosys, Coronados, Centurys and Classics.

Tom's truck was at the western end of the lot, third one from the garage door, next to a Western Star 4900 and a Sterling A9500S. A 2011 Freightliner Coronado. With a long hood, big smokestacks and an aerodynamic sleeper cab, it was Tom's kind of truck. He walked around the truck, checking everything. Lifting the hood up, he took in the sight of the powerplant. It was a DD16 engine, manufactured by Detroit Diesel, displacing 15.6 liters and punching out 600 horsepower and 2,050 lb ft of torque, enough to haul whatever load found itself on the trailer attached to this truck. Tom shut the hood and continued his walk around.

Climbing inside the cab, Tom sat himself down in the driver's seat. Looking at the dashboard, he familiarised himself with the dials. He checked where the important switches were, and was pleased to see that they were within arm's reach. Climbing out of the seat, and stepping into the sleeper cab, he checked out the two cafe style benches facing each other, and a table in the middle. Perfect place to put a laptop computer, he thought. There was also plenty of space to store gear, stand up straight and have a rest after a long day's work in the 70" sleeper cab.

Back in the driver's seat, Tom had a moment to reflect on the journey he'd taken to get here. His first job was working in the army for 6 years, before transferring to special ops for another year. After that, it was off to the Tokyo Police Department for 3 years, before a 6 month stint in a bird sanctuary in Rio De Janeiro. Now, he was back on US soil after 10 years, and looking to make a living as a truck driver.

Tom took a breath, then turned the key. The Detroit Diesel engine roared into life, and Tom put the truck in 1st gear. He pressed the accelerator to get moving and steered his way out of the parking lot. He guided the Coronado steadily out onto the road, and started picking up speed. He had already fired up the GPS, which told him that he was heading east out of the dealer in Kapolei. Small beginnings. Tom went through a mental checklist. First off, find work. Any company looking for someone to haul trailer from A to B was acceptable. Also, he needed to make contacts. Fellow truck drivers he knew were more trustworthy, friendly and potentially useful in the future than truck drivers he didn't know. Perhaps after he had moved on as an independent owner operator, he could start his own company, so a little side quest would be to find somewhere to set up a headquarters with an office, garage and anything else needed for a trucking business. This was also where making contacts came in, as he could then recruit drivers he'd met on his travels. Right now though, he needed to find a job.

All of a sudden, the light at the intersection ahead turned red. Tom brought the big Freightliner to a halt. His Coronado was the only vehicle at the intersection, but that was about to change. He didn't know it, but that one red light would eventually set him up for the best thing that would happen to him. He waited for a bit, noticing the lack of cars, before the light turned green, and he steered left to go onto the northbound road.

Suddenly, a black 2011 Ford Mustang GT 5.0 burst through the intersection, followed by a silver 2010 Chevrolet Camaro RS, emergency lights blazing. The black Mustang only just managed to slide to a stop in front of the orange Coronado, and Tom only just managed to stop the orange Coronado in front of the black Mustang. He was only travelling at about 10 miles per hour, so there was no need to use the motor brake. The Camaro screeched to a halt to the left of the Freightliner. Two men got out, drew guns and approached the Ford. Tom couldn't help but notice how different they looked. One was dark haired, tall and casually dressed. The other was blonde, a bit shorter and dressed profesionally, tie and all. The driver was dragged out and cuffed. While the blonde dragged him away, the tall guy walked to the side of the rig. Tom noticed a tattoo that looked like one given to US Navy SEALs.

"Excuse me sir?" The dark haired guy asked.

"Yeah?" Tom answered through the open window.

"Are you alright?"

"Ah, nothing wrong. Rig still shiny side up, rubber side down. Talk about being in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"Yeah." The tall guy glanced at the Mustang, then returned his gaze to Tom. "Name's Steve McGarrett by the way. You new to the island?"

"Yep. Only just picked up my new truck."

"Well, thank you for helping us to stop the suspect."

"Nothing to it. If only everything was that easy." Tom laughed.

"Yep." Steve was just about to walk away, when he turned back to Tom. "By the way, I never did catch your name."

"My name is Tom Fortnell." Tom disengaged the parking brake, steered past the Mustang, and drove off down the road, black smoke coming out of the smokestacks and leaving Steve to wonder where the hell he had heard that name before.

It was 10:30am when Tom had started up his brand new truck for the first time, and it was 11:49pm when he pulled into a truckstop, a place by the name of 60 Miles in Pearl City. It had a gas station, a motel, a bar, a repair stop and a parking lot. Tom steered his truck into the parking lot, and took a space next to a Peterbilt 389. He killed the engine and got out to get a drink in the bar. While he drank his Fanta, Tom browsed through a newspaper from a couple of weeks ago. One particular story caught his eye.

FIVE-0 DO IT AGAIN!

A daring operation in the middle of Honolulu has led to the arrest of a Coast Guard official planning to steal $28 million. A tsunami warning was sounded late in the morning, leading to an evacuation of all coastal areas. However, suspicion was aroused when an expected tsunami never arrived. It was later revealed that Dr. Norman Russell, a leading figure at the Tsunami Warning Center had been kidnapped in order to sound a fake warning and clear the streets, clearing the way for $28 million to be stolen from right under the noses of the Honolulu Police Department. The Five-0 taskforce stepped in, leading to the arrest of Sam Hales, a Coast Guard official who orchestrated the plot.

Tom looked at the picture. It showed Steve, the blonde haired man and two others in front of a Ford Super Duty pickup truck. He recognized the blonde from the intersection earlier, but the two Asians were unknown. He presumed them to be a part of the team.

Finishing his drink, Tom paid for the Fanta, then stepped out and made his way past the gas pumps. He didn't even make it to the second pump, when a voice called out. "Hey!"

Tom turned around to find a man with brown hair, brown eyes and a brown leather jacket walking towards him. "Um, hi?" He answered.

"What's your name?"

"Tom."

"Oh. My name's Nick." He replied. "Nick Aldrin. Nice to see a kind trucker here."

"Well, uh, I guess it is."

"So where's your rig?"

"There it is." Tom pointed to his truck. "'11 Coronado. 18 speed transmission, 600 horses, 70" sleeper."

"Nice." Nick pointed to his orange cab-over truck parked next to a gas pump. "2004 Freightliner Argosy. It's a nice truck, and the Detroit's sending 575 to the rears."

"Plenty of power."

"Well, I'll be sure to keep an eye out for you on the road."

"Sure thing. Anything you need?"

"Well, seeing as I'm a first timer, how about seeing if you can set me up with a job?"

"Sure." Nick thought to himself for a little bit, then turned to face Tom again. "Heard there's a load going out of Pearl Harbor. Load of wrecked cars bound for a dealer in Honolulu, and someone's gotta do it."

"Thanks buddy." Before leaving Tom said, "You're the first trucker I've met and you're so helpful. How about I give you a 10% share of the reward?"

"No, I'm good." Nick held out a palm, and shook his head. "Just make sure to arrive, driver, truck and trailer."

"Thanks. Bye!"

"Bye!" Nick turned around, and strolled back to his Argosy. Tom likewise marched to his Coronado, and climbed inside.

"So then, I've got a truck, a contact, and a job. Small beginnings."

I hope you enjoyed this story. I am only just beginning to write for Hawaii Five-0, and I hope to extend this story into a series. Please leave a review, and I promise that some load hauling will occur in the next chapter. Until next time!