O-O-O-O-O

Chapter 4

It was getting late. Steve checked his watch. It was ten minutes after nine. He'd called Maggie at four to tell her he didn't know how late he was going to be. Susan had dropped by around six, bringing in food for the crew. He was beginning to wonder if there was a duty roster for the chow run. These days when the detectives were working late, Maggie, Susan, or Beverly would bring in food. Their reasoning was if they didn't, the men would all die from malnutrition.

Chin's call to Kono had gleaned very little of use to the current investigation. The harbor wasn't in the sheriff's office jurisdiction. The Navy took care of security for their facilities, the Coast Guard, harbor patrol, and customs handled the rest. Kono said he'd run down a few of his snitches on Hotel Street and in Chinatown that afternoon and would get back with him in the morning. Knowing Kono, if there was anyone who knew about theft from the docks, he'd find them.

McGarrett, Duke, and Chin Ho were going through the computer printouts of missing ordnance, making a list for search warrants. They were using the list of street gangs, militias, and known gunrunners as a starting point. McGarrett wanted the missing military hardware found and disposed of before any of it ended up on the street. Hawaii wasn't going to turn into a war zone on his watch.

"Makes you wonder if the weapons were transshipped to another country," Duke said, frowning. "This much firepower hasn't made it to the street. The last incident we had involving military hardware was when that dumb kid going home on leave forgot he had a practice grenade in his pack and set off every metal detector at the airport."

"It has been surprisingly quiet of late. Makes me wonder if its the calm before the storm. This is only the stuff they know about, or are willing to tell us about."

There was a brief knock. Danny came in carrying a stack of printer paper. "I just got the report from Commander Nicholson. She is not a happy girl."

"Why's that, Danno?" Steve asked.

Danny had made copies of the report and was handing them around.

"When she started inventorying weapons this morning, she discovered that not only was the sixteen we have down in the lab missing from the shipment, so were 49 more. The guns are packed 25 to a crate, and each crate is bar coded with a sequential serial number for security and accountability. She gets a printout with the crate numbers on them, and when they are offloaded into the warehouse, the numbers are scanned into a database. There is a shipping manifest with every serial number on every crate in a shipment. Except in the shipment our rifle was in, the last two crate numbers are missing from both her database and from the warehouse, however, the serial numbers for the missing weapons were still in the system. That was how it was determined how many rifles are missing. Somehow, between the factory and Diego Garcia, the crates dropped off the shipping manifest."

"That was from the shipment that was brought over on the Coos Bay?" Steve asked.

"The same," Danny said. "Only it gets worse. Commander Nicholson had three more shipments come over on the Coos Bay. She's having those inventoried also. She's already found two missing crates from one shipment and is expecting to find the same in the others. She's also found three crates of missing laser sights, a crate of missing M203 grenade launchers, and a dozen light anti tank weapons."

"My god," Steve said. "That's two hundred military grade automatic rifles unaccounted for. Is someone trying to start their own private war? What about ammo? If they have the guns, they're going to need ammo."

"That's the one bright spot," Danny said. "Commander Nichols doesn't store the ammo, just the guns. The ammo didn't change, so no need for new stockpiles. Most ammo is shipped with the equipment for each unit in the field. Plus 5.56 rounds are easy to obtain on the civilian market. It's the same caliber for a number of popular deer rifles and is sold at every sporting goods store on the Island."

"What about grenades for the M-203's?" Duke asked.

"A little more tightly controlled but still shipped out with the unit's equipment and supplies. Maybe a little harder to come by, but not impossible. There's probably a ton of them stashed at Schofield Barracks and the Marine base. I'm more worried about the missing LAW's than the grenade launchers. Those thing are designed to stop tanks and armored vehicles."

"Just when we thought it couldn't get any more complicated. We have to find out how the crate numbers dropped off the shipping manifest," Steve said, standing up and trying to stretch the kinks out of his back. "The techies have all gone home so that's going to have to wait until tomorrow. That's it for now, gentleman. Danno, head for the computer lab first thing, and send out a notice to any store that sells the ammo. If anyone's stocking up, we need to know who they are and where they live. Chin, go by the hospital in the morning, see if Mama-San's remembers anything else and see if our suspect feels like talking. He's probably lawyered up by now but explain to him and his parents how a little co-operation goes a long way. Duke, meeting with the governor at 0800. Let's all try to get some rest. I have a feeling we're going to need it."

O-O-O-O-O

Maggie was in the living room working on her latest needlework project and watching the early news when she heard the front gate open and Steve's SUV pull into the driveway. She dropped the hoop on the coffee table and ran to meet him at the door, throwing her arms around him before he had a chance to put his briefcase down.

"What's this all about?" he asked, smiling down at the green eyed woman he loved more with each passing day.

"About time you got home," she said. "I saw the news report on that awful shooting. Every time I hear a police officer has been shot I panic until I know you're safe. Susan says she does the same. Then I'm afraid to answer the phone unless I see your name on the caller ID."

He disentangled himself from her embrace, put the briefcase on the table by the door. "Easy, Baby," he said. "Its been a long day." He settled down on the couch and loosened his tie.

"Want something to eat?" she asked, as she stood behind him to gently massage his neck and shoulders until she felt the muscles relaxing. "Susan said she was going to bring y'all some dinner, only that was hours ago."

"No, sweetie, all I want is to get a shower and go to bed. And before you ask, Jenny reminded me to take the blood pressure medicine before she went home."

She sat down beside him, snuggling up close. "I know I'm overreacting," she said. "I know the officers were from HPD but it doesn't matter. Every time I hear that a police officer has been hurt, my mind goes down a very dark path and stays there until I know you're safe."

He heard the near panic in her voice and pulled her into his lap, holding her close until she stopped shaking. "It's okay, sweetie. I didn't get to the crime scene until after the suspects were long gone. I didn't even trip on a pig foot."

She looked up at him, frowning in confusion. "Pig foot?"

"When the suspect opened fire he took out one of those big jars of pig feet you see on the counter of a lot of the convenience stores in Honolulu. There were pig feet everywhere."

She started giggling with relief. "It's going to take most of the night to get that image out of my head and it's all your fault but I love you anyway."

"I love you, too. Think you can put up with the anxiety of being a cop's wife for another five years?"

"Only if you promise to wear the Kevlar vest and come home to me every night. Are you sure you don't want something to eat?" she asked.

"Yes, sweetie, I'm sure. All I want is to get a shower and go to bed." Five-O may have had the latest in Kevlar vests, but Steve knew they were no match for a high powered rifle, especially at close range. He wasn't going to be the one to tell her that all Campbell's vest did was slow the bullet down. He held her tighter. "I promise," he said. "I've been wearing the vest all day and I'm ready to take it off." These days all the Five-O detectives wore the vest, especially after Duke had taken two rounds from a 9mm at close range and walked away from it.

"Really," she said, giving him that little half smile that let him know she was thinking naughty thoughts. "If you take the vest off, you may as well get totally naked."

"Yes, but you're still wearing clothes."

"You go get showered, Big Guy. I'll bet that when you're done you find a naked lady waiting for you in bed."

"That's my little Menehune," he said, smiling.

O-O-O-O-O

Old habits were hard to break. Maggie had been retired from the Army for months, but her internal clock was still set to go off at 0430. It wasn't so bad, she had confessed to Susan one afternoon over margaritas on the lanai, because it meant she got to have breakfast with Steve. After years hurried chow hall breakfasts, she had come to appreciate the quiet intimacy of breakfast with her husband, and Steve said it was the one peaceful moment in the day that he could count on.

"No run this morning?" she asked as he joined her in the kitchen, kissing her on the cheek before he poured the first cup of coffee. He had invested in a coffee pot with a timer and set it for five before he went to bed. Maggie may have been a good cook, but her lack of coffee making skills had become legendary.

"Karate this evening at five, if I can get away," he said. Karate was one of the things he was planning on dropping as soon as he retired. He was getting too old to get tossed around by kids half his age. He was working on a black belt in Kendo, that is if his hands and shoulder muscles held out.

"Going to be another long day?" she asked as she was flipping pancakes onto a plate next to bacon cooked the way he liked it. She put the plate on the table, along with a pitcher of maple syrup, butter, and a bowl of peaches sauteed with vanilla, cinnamon, and nutmeg. She got her plate and sat down across the the table.

"Yes, starting with a meeting with the Governor at eight. I'll be home late again." He reached across the table to take her hand. "I'm sorry, sweetie. I know there are days when it seems like I'm never home."

"I understand, really I do," she said, giving him a sad little smile. "It's your job. It's what you do best."

"Speaking of jobs," he said. "I had a very brief conversation with Mark Meyers at the crime scene."

"That man does not know how to take no for an answer," she said, looking aggravated. "He's been calling me and Susan both for the last two weeks. I stopped answering his calls and his emails. What did he do, ask your permission for me to work for him? Or did he think you'd tell me to do it?"

Steve couldn't tell if she was joking or not, but the way she stabbed an innocent peach with her fork was a good indication she was annoyed.

"Baby, I told you when you retired from the Army the only job you had now was taking care of me." He smiled at her. "Plus becoming Hawaii's next famous writer. I'm just wondering why you didn't tell me earlier."

"Maybe because you and Meyers have a history and I didn't want you to get upset? Susan and I both know the only reason he wants to hire us is because he thought he was going to get a direct line into Five-O headquarters. As if that was going to happen!" She took a bite of her pancakes and chewed thoughtfully. "Susan is having way too much fun being a full time mom and trying to plan a wedding by long distance and e-mail. And as for you, my dear husband, you are just plain high maintenance."

"I am not high maintenance," he said, smiling back at her. "You are intent on spoiling me."

"And your problem with that is?"

"None whatsoever. In fact, I am enjoying it immensely. How's the writing coming?" he asked, changing the subject. He'd read the first five chapters of the first draft and was waiting for more. She had decided on fictionalizing her journals instead of writing a biography. That way, she'd said, she could change the names to protect the guilty.

"It's getting there. I will have some more for you to read this weekend."

"I will look forward to doing that. Is Tilda coming over this afternoon?" Tilda Kelly, Chin Ho and Lin's surprise baby and the youngest of their eight children, spent most of her afternoons at either Susan and Duke's house or theirs. Maggie and Susan had volunteered to care for the little girl before Chin returned from bereavement leave after Lin had passed away. Tilda was becoming such a fixture at their house that Steve had even suggested redecorating one of the guest rooms for her.

"Yes. I'm picking her up after school. We're going to work on costumes for her school play." Maggie had started volunteering at Tilda's school, stepping into the spot Lin had once filled.

"That's my girls," Steve said. Tilda may have lost one mom, but she'd gained two new ones, three,if you wanted to count Beverly. Beverly's schedule with the Navy kept her busy, but she always made time for the little girl on weekends. He finished his breakfast, swallowed the blood pressure medicine that had became a part of his morning routine, and got up from the table to kiss Maggie good-by. "I'm off to work. You girls try to stay out of trouble."

"You keep safe," she said. "I'll see you tonight." She listened to the sound of his SUV backing out of the driveway, followed by the sound of the security gate closing. She rinsed the dishes and put them in the dishwasher with the ones left over from the night before. When the machine was full she started the wash cycle, wiped down the table, and then headed to the bedroom to change into her bathing suit. She swam every morning, and more often than not in the afternoons if Tilda wanted to go in.

Five more years until he retires, she thought, my Lord and Lady, please let my nerves survive five more years.