Steve hadn't known Maggie hated flying. She sat in the seat next to his, holding the armrest and his hand so tightly her knuckles were turning white and his hand was going numb.

"Are you going to be okay, baby?" he asked, leaning close to her ear so she could hear him over the engine noise. He bent down to hear her reply.

"I hate choppers and I hate flying. How much longer until this damned bird lands?"

Steve consulted his watch. "About forty-five minutes. Not much longer."

"Tell Danny he owes me big time for this!" she said.

"You got it, baby," Steve said. He wasn't happy about the news he'd received from Danny. He had no idea how to tell Maggie there was madman with a vendetta against every law enforcement official on the Islands, from the AG down to the newest rookie beat cop, or that no one seemed to know where the man was.

Ten years earlier, Lester Smith, aka Cord McKenzie had appointed himself judge, jury, and executioner, dispensing frontier justice to those he felt had escaped punishment from the courts. McKenzie had murdered two men he considered low life scum before kidnapping and threatening to kill a judge. McGarrett's free hand involuntarily reached beneath the headset to the small scar hidden under his hair, a permanent reminder of the day McKenzie was arrested after leading the Five-O detectives and a squad of HPD officers on a desperate foot chase through the back allies of King Street. McKenzie had tossed a steel trash can down a flight of stairs, cracking McGarrett on the head and opening a gash that took ten stitches to close. He had been out of breath and half blinded by the blood flowing into his eye when McKenzie was collared by HPD, screaming vengeance against McGarrett, Five-O, HPD, and every judge and district attorney on the Islands. A board of court appointed psychiatrists had deemed him fit to stand trial. He was convicted on all counts, and because kidnapping was a federal offense McKenzie was given three consecutive life sentences in a federal prison.

First it was Big Chicken, now this, McGarrett thought. She's been through enough. He took some comfort in the fact that the psyche report on McKenzie had determined that the madman wouldn't dream of hurting women and children, only those he considered low life scum, cruds, pinko communists bleeding heart judges, crooked lawyers, and traitor cops. At least he won't go after our families. He smiled down at the woman who had been his wife for ten days. He raised the hand clutching his so tightly to his lips, kissing her softly. My Little Menehune, he thought, my ohana.

O-O-O-O-O

John Manicote was running late. He had exactly ten minutes to be in the courtroom before the court resumed session. He was mentally rehearsing his closing argument as he hurried from the parking garage on Halekuawila Street, ignoring the news media that swarmed in front of the court house. He heard his assistant call his name, and half turned to answer her. That was why the bullet missed his heart and lodged in his right lung instead.

The impact knocked him off his feet and into the bailiff who had been holding the door, which was why the second shot missed completely and ricocheted off the side of the building. The bailiff drug him into the safety of the building as the reporters scattered and spectators screamed. He was having trouble breathing and his chest hurt like hell. He wondered briefly if he was having a heart attack. He pressed his hand against his chest where it hurt the most, and was shocked to see it come away wet and sticky with blood. Shot, he thought, I've been shot. Why? Then everything faded to black.

O-O-O-O-O

Dan Williams and Duke Lukela were waiting when they landed, along with an HPD blue and white being driven by Robbie Compton. Robbie took their bags and stashed them in the back of the back seat of the patrol car. His job was to drive Maggie home and check the perimeter around the house before going back on patrol.

"Sorry about this, Steve," Danny said after McGarrett had helped Maggie out of the helicopter. "I had a feeling you'd want to know about this as soon as possible."

"Any idea where he could be?" McGarrett asked, hoping it was anywhere but Hawaii.

"No idea. North Dakota can't find him or his son. It's like they vanished off the the face of the earth." Danny said.

"Not possible," Steve replied. "No one just vanishes. He's out there somewhere. I can feel it."

"Feel what, honey?" Maggie asked, frowning.

"Nothing for you to worry about," Steve said, bending to kiss her good-bye. "Robbie is going to drive you home. I'll try to be home by eight."

"Are you planning on telling me what's going on then?" she asked.

"It's probably nothing. Let's just say we're erring on the side of caution for now. I'll see you when I get home. Robbie, make sure everything is secure before you report back for duty."

"Yes, sir." Compton said as he opened the door for Maggie to get in. "Come on, Sgt McGarrett, looks like I'm going to be your chauffeur today."

"One of these days I'm going to get use to being called that. I'll see you at home, Steve. Try not to be too late." She gave them a small wave as they drove away.

"Steve," Duke Lukela called loudly in order to be heard over the noise of the helicopter taking off and the sudden increase in radio traffic. "I think we just heard from McKenzie. Someone shot John Manicote as he was going into the courthouse. He's being transported to Queens Hospital. Chin's at the scene. He says John's still alive but it doesn't look good."

"Let's go," Steve said as he and Danny ran to the car. "Danno, let's head to Queens. Duke, go to the scene. Call Che and get forensics down there fast. Then get HPD on the horn, cordon off that entire block and see how many witnesses you can shake loose."

"On my way," Duke said, slamming the door and tearing out of the parking lot with sirens blaring and lights flashing.

"Think we're going to find anything?" Danny asked as he stuck the spinner on the roof and hit the lights and sirens.

"Danno, I have a feeling the only thing we're going to find is a shell casing from a 44/40." He buckled the seat belt as Danny sped off and reached for his phone, only to remember it was in his overnight bag along with his service revolver. He borrowed Danny's phone and called Maggie, asking her to bring his bag and a change of clothes to the office.

"Forget a few things?" she asked. She had heard the increased traffic on the blue and white's radio. "Give me an hour to shower and change, then I'll meet you at Iolani. I heard the radio calls and I know you're busy. Love you." She ended the call, frowning, hoping he would be safe.

That's my Little Menehune, Steve thought, half smiling as he punched in Kono's number, relieved that Honolulu county now had a sheriff they could depend on. When the Big Hawaiian answered, Steve requested sheriff's deputies set up roadblocks on all the roads leading out of the city.

"Gotcha, Boss," Kono said. "Hope John's gone be okay. Sorry you had to come back early, but I'm glad you here."

"Thanks, Brudah," Steve said, ending the call.