McGarrett got up from his knees and stood upright in the waves as they lapped around his shoes. His heart felt as heavy as his sodden and sand laden suit.

He stood gazing along the shore, picturing in his mind the woman he had loved, the woman he might have spent the rest of his life with. In his mind's eye, he was swirling her round, kissing her. He thought of what might have been.

Minutes before, he had almost beaten the life out of the hit man that had killed his Cathi.

Could he, McGarrett, have committed murder in revenge? He had only once felt murder in his heart, the day his Father had been mowed down and killed. His breath came in laboured gasps as he walked slowly across the empty beach toward the swaying palm trees. Only he knew the answer.