I do not own Hawaii Five-0 or any characters. No copyright infringement intended.

Notes: Thank you for such great reviews and comments! As always, my thanks to very special friends JazzieG and CinderH! Again! Thank you both for ongoing help with Beta, Plot and answering all my stupid questions. Teenie changes from the beta .. sabertoothed bunny got re-involved this morning. My BFF (Beverley) is originally from South Africa and she is responsible for much of the noted Afrikaans translations used here. She is admittedly rusty and we did our best to keep it as accurate as possible. If an idiom or word is used incorrectly or something translated is not picture-perfect, we did try our best.

Chapter Three

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Erick was furious but Simon was right in that they were not prepared to chase the two men into the depths of the jungle in the middle of the night. He argued with Simon on the trail and as dark began to fall because at least one of the men .. the pilot .. was badly injured based on the volume of blood they had found inside the black chopper.

They also had differences of opinion on the men's fire-power. It wasn't only Simon who had been petrified by the hand grenades and unexpected return fire which had come uncomfortably close to his own head. He was merely the only one who actively voiced his concerns. Erick had also noticed Simon's greenish complexion when he saw the blood in the helicopter. Though he had willingly squeezed off the first shots, he obviously had a dubious temperament for the uglier realities of their trade.

However, the weapons were precisely the reasons as to why Erick wanted to chase the two men down. He had no idea why they would be in such an obviously commercial charter. Perhaps it was a new ploy and the authorities were already aware of his presence on the island. Regardless of who, why or what, the men were not mere tourists and posed a significant problem to his fledgling business. And he was willing to fight for it to remain in existence.

So there had been a compromise of sorts in the end. Erick and Bernard had broken off from Simon and the two lesser, hired-gun associates with a type of loose plan. His mistake was not taking the time to get additional supplies including radios, flashlights and better clothing from his camp. But the men they were chasing were injured. Confident in knowing the terrain and trail, Erick was in a hurry and waved off Simon's very wise second suggestion to better prepare.

In their native Afrikaans, Erick gave orders for Simon and the men to return to the small grassy field to lay in wait by the helicopter and to be closer to their encampment. Even though his insecurities were more apparent, in the very unlikely event that its occupants should return, Simon had the authority to take care of them.

He and Bernard would continue further down the trail and attempt a short reconnaissance in case the men had attempted to hide in the jungle. They had a small hand-hewn shelter near the t-junction of another little-used trail head. Erick believed the men had gone in that general direction. He didn't believe that they could or would get very far, so he and Bernard would go at least there and investigate the surrounding area. It was of little real risk and he needed to do that much to calm his racing mind.

Simon had again seemed uncomfortable and had pulled Bernard briefly off to the side. But Bernard's eyes had continued to shine with excitement and whatever concerns Simon expressed had been jovially disregarded with a warm slap on the back.

It wasn't much of a plan and it left their main encampment partially unprotected, but based on current circumstances Erick was mostly satisfied with it. While hesitant to track the two men at night, at a bare minimum, Simon and the two cheaply hired guns could watch their backs. They had only been there two short weeks and were laying claim to a small diamond smuggling operation that Erick hoped would grow exponentially. His brother back home had already coordinated one drop into their small camp and it had gone very well. The diamonds had almost too easily been pawned off to a lesser Yakuza gang. Over time, Erick would make larger exchanges and his reputation would earn him a more elite clientele.

Erick was most certainly not ready to abandon his first camp so soon with another drop planned to happen in the next few days. The same Yakuza buyer had already expressed interest and if quality was equal or better, a special introduction to a more influential leader had been promised.

Greedy and excited, Erick would not allow anyone to jeopardize his future.

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Danny had tried to hide Steve as best as possible by dragging dead-fall to shield him from prying eyes. He'd also made sure his partner's gun and knife were easily within reach. And when he slid carefully back down to the lower trail from the outcropping, Danny turned to make sure that Steve was hidden. With dusk falling, he was pleased that he actually had to squint to see anything and then, the shadows were misleading.

Feeling more confident, he'd simply turned away and had taken off down the trail. Behind the heavily screened area, Steve watched Danny disappear and then leaned back and closed his eyes. The bullet wound was clean but bad enough. He'd lost a lot of blood from the necessary and immediate activity to get away from the downed chopper and the shooters.

Steve finally heard them about ten or fifteen minutes after Danny had left. Peering carefully through the dead-fall, Steve had his gun cradled in one hand and his knife in the other. Three had become five and he studied them as they convened below him on the lower trail. They weren't speaking English and it took Steve a minute to realize that the language could be Afrikaans or something of a similar origin.

It was more than odd and made the small little compound even more than an enigma. He was thankful though that they still seemed to be amateurs. Arguing and pushing each other as voices raised and weapons waved in the air, two in particular were arguing about what to do next or even for control of the small band. It was obvious that they were having what was a major disagreement about which direction to take. Grinding his teeth with worry, Steve watched them all finally jog down the path Danny had taken and he could only pray that they wouldn't take the left fork towards the ranger station. But odds were very much against that happening.

Danny had a decent head start on the group; but he was injured and Steve accounted for that as he tried to estimate how much time he'd have to radio for help. Steve had another choice too as he listened to the raised voices disappear down the trail. Dusk was falling in earnest, but he had enough time to get himself back to the chopper. If the group were as amateurish as they appeared to be, Steve might be able to get the bird back in the air for a two-minute trip.

Steve checked the tourniquet and was pleased to see that it had done its job. But he knew the bleeding would no doubt begin again as soon as he tried to stand. Walking would be excruciating and he risked losing consciousness or worse .. if .. if he could get the chopper back up in the air. His other option was to stay where he was .. and he grinned to himself because it's exactly what he'd expect Danny to do. If the roles were reversed, Steve would be insisting that Danny stay hidden and wait for his return. But like his partner, he wasn't good at waiting and was worried about Danny's ability to find his way in the dark. Injured and unfamiliar with the rough terrain, any number of things could happen and Steve was beginning to regret their decision.

"Forgive me later." Steve groaned as he tightened the belted tourniquet and tried to struggle to his feet. It could be a terrible decision and the logic that he kept ignoring, demanded that he stay hidden. All his weight was on his right leg as he used the rocks for support. Nearly upright, the unexpected wave of vertigo was almost over-powering and Steve sagged half-way back down before insisting that his body cooperate by locking his right knee into place.

But he froze when he heard the odd language and then allowed himself to crumple all the way back down to a seated position. After only a few minutes, the same voices were now returning and Steve realized their likely concern. Without understanding their words, he knew they were returning because of the darkening night and serious lack of supplies.

"Definitely amateurs." He mumbled in relief. It was getting dark and they had no flashlights, no gear packs or water and may not have known the trails as well as originally assumed. Danny was safe .. at least as safe as he could be in the short-term.

Their return though dashed Steve's plans and increased his unsense of ease as they reconvened once more at the foot of his hiding place. Quietly, he scrunched down lower and watched them as they lingered at the foot of his elevated hiding place. He was shocked to count out that five had now become three and Steve frowned unhappily. The group had split up maybe after yet another argument and it didn't bode well.

"Dagga, boet?" (slang 'weed'; 'brother') He frowned at the funny words. But at least their anger had dissipated and two were smiling and joking as one searched his pockets. Pulling out what looked like cigarettes, they shared a match and the scent of marijuana reached him; a third was repetitively glancing back up the trail from which they returned. Steve recognized that particular man as the one arguing most vehemently with a now missing fourth.

"Damn, damn, damn." He whispered under his breath because he certainly wasn't going anywhere and Danny might not be as safe as he'd just assumed. After a few minutes, they walked back calmly towards the small open field and Kamekona's helicopter. Though still wary, Steve allowed himself to relax slightly as a chill rippled through his body.

Night was definitely falling. And there was a coldness in the air which combined with his blood loss to make him much colder than he normally would have been. He rubbed his leg gently near the tourniquet, wincing as dull aches continually throbbed through his thigh muscle. Steve checked his watch at the thirty minute mark and prayed that Danny was at the estimated halfway mark to his goal before letting his hand drop into his lap. He still had his gun next to his right hip, but he had slammed the blade of his knife directly into the ground to keep in within easy reach.

Steve shivered again and then shook his head against an unexpected wave of dizziness. "Bad idea." He meant it for himself as the dizzy spell refused to abate and he leaned his head back against the rocky outcropping. The brief movement had aggravated the dull ache and it was now a sharp, painful throb that wouldn't let up. If he'd tried to get back to the helicopter, he knew then he wouldn't have made it at all.

A slight breeze rustled the dead-fall and leaves overhead and Steve shivered again. Leaning forward, Steve watched the trail and listened hard for any obscure movement or sounds. When he saw and heard nothing, he carefully pulled the dead-fall closer to offer more protection from the night air. Making himself as small as possible, he eased back into the rocks too to conserve some body heat. Sighing, Steve rubbed his eyes in a vain attempt to rid himself of the dizzy, muzzy feeling in his head.

"You can do this, Danno." He whispered firmly to himself. "The entire damned Aloha girls could do a lousy four mile hike." He knew it was an unfair jibe because he was distinctly refusing to add in the facts of their current situation as he checked the time again. Injured and stranded, there was nothing he could do other than wait and hope that the other members of the small group had also decided to call it a night somewhere along the trail instead of trying to track Danny in the dark to the remote ranger's cabin.

Against his will, Steve's head bobbed a few times as his chin fell down to his chest. A few minutes later, Steve lost his battle to remain awake.

~ to be continued ~