The Man Who Would Not Break

Chapter 11

Here's the next. A tiny bit more action in this one. Thank you for continuing to read and review. Your comments are never taken for granted and if you have suggestions that can improve the story; you know I will try to work them in.

Note: A couple references to really old television shows in this one and I think Imaginary Beta let me get away with recycling a title used in a story written for another fandom. It's all her fault.

Disclaimer: No money being made from this. I just like to stay up late and drink enough coffee to give me heart palpitations while sweating self-imposed deadlines.

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The Murder Winds

He was all packed and ready to go. The trips to Hawaii were expensive but her life insurance money would pay for it all. He thought it a bit ironic her death would provide him the means to end the lives of those responsible.

He looked longingly at the photograph and placed a kiss on it as he hefted his suitcase and walked toward the door. It was pretty windy out. That big guy at the general store said the Santa Anas were due today and he was right.

The fire index would be pretty high. A couple years ago it had been a close call but he'd been careful to trim the brush around the cabin and it had passed them by.

By tomorrow though, it would be a tinderbox here. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to leave right now.

He stopped to consider it and was about to pick up the phone to make the changes when he heard the whine of an engine as it labored up the rise. Because of the configuration of hills in which his cabin was nestled, it was possible to hear someone coming from two miles away as their vehicle struggled over the rough road.

Setting his bag behind the door, he picked up his carbine and made sure the clip was full.

…..

The guy at the rental desk told him to be cautious on the highways as the Santa Anas were blowing. When he'd politely inquired as to what the hell a Santa Ana was, he was told it was also known as 'the murder winds' because of the effect of negative ions that seemed to unhinge half the population when it blew. The rental agent had also stressed it was a good idea to get the optional insurance they offered as he was going to be leaving the airport at an inopportune time of day. During the winds, road rage on the 405 was almost a sure bet during rush hour. Danny, reasoning that with his luck and his idiot partner's fucked up karma, the enhanced coverage was a good idea, purchased it.

The heated air swirling through the rental lot was dry as a week old malasada and his hair was threatening to surrender to the static electricity generated by the ominous flow.

Danny slammed his bag into the back seat of the rental car and climbed in to crank up the air conditioning. When I catch up with him I'm gonna make that Neanderthal regret ever taking off again. When I'm done with him the idiot's not even gonna scratch his ass without getting written permission to do so.

The air was clear except for the band of dust that had swept across the landscape blurring the foothills at the base of the San Gabriels. He set the GPS to the address given him before he left Honolulu. It was the home of one Robert Ruiz; a former SEAL teammate of Steve's from years ago and recently retired from LAPD. Danny was actually surprised it hadn't been more difficult to get his contact to part with the information. Both of them were certainly well aware McGarrett could take care of himself but, right now, he may be too focused to care about his own safety, (not that he ever did seem to care all that much).

Given what had happened to set Steve on the path of vengeance, Danny doubted self-preservation was even a thought in his friend's way too scary mind.

The electronic voice of the GPS directed him to take the next off-ramp and he found himself on a four lane boulevard in a very busy part of East Los Angeles. Both sides of the street were lined with a strange mix of auto-body repair shops, small grocery stores, hamburger and taco stands and for whatever reason - bridal shops. The street pulsed with an energy punctuated by the bass vibration of rap and the tinny trumpets of mariachi music. He made a right onto Gage Avenue and in the middle of the block found the address he sought.

The house was an old bungalow style craftsman with stone fronted columns and shiplap siding. There were roses blooming behind the neatly constructed picket fence that surrounded the front yard. It was all very 'Leave it to Beaver' if the Beave had been born in nineteen-twenty-two.

He pushed open the gate and walked up the flagstone walk to the broad front porch. There didn't appear to be a bell so he knocked loudly on the substantial wooden door. Hearing footsteps approaching, he tried to neaten his hair that had finally given up its original style in favor of a more 'natural' windblown look. It was a disaster.

Instead of what he'd usually expect in a neighborhood like this where people usually peeked out through a minimal crack with the chain-lock still in place until they knew the visitor was friend or foe, the door opened widely.

There before him stood a very tall, very intimidating man with dark olive skin, close-cropped salt and pepper hair and the air of someone you really wouldn't dare mess with. The guy had to be a cop or a SEAL or maybe Godzilla.

"Hi." greeted Danny as he looked up at the dark eyes that seemed to bore right through him.

"Who are you?" asked the man in a deep, no-nonsense baritone.

"I'm Detective Danny Williams of Five-0. I'm looking for Steve."

….

It was a face he hadn't seen in several years. The last time he'd seen it was when it glared back at him from the other side of a table at the court martial proceedings.

Something at once ice and fire rippled through his body as he stared at the screen. Picking up the burner cell he'd purchased after his arrival, he dialed a number he hadn't had need of in a long time.

"Hi, this is Smooth Dog." he greeted the person who picked up the phone.

…

"So, you're Williams." stated Ruiz as he handed the detective a cold bottle of water.

"Yup, that's me." said Danny as he tilted the bottle to his lips and took a long cool swallow. The air had parched his throat and was actually making his skin itch; drying him out like a piece of jerky.

Ruiz plopped himself down in the chair opposite and regarded the compact detective who Steve had described as annoying and relentless and the best friend he'd ever had. They sat in silence for another long moment; sizing each other up and considering the questions they'd yet to pose one another. A lot was riding on the answers.

"How did you find out Steve was here?" asked Ruiz

"Someone as concerned about Steve as his ohana . . . umm his family . . . gave me your address and said you'd be a good bet if Steve came to L.A."

"Last I heard, Steve's only family was a sister here in California. What family are you referring to?"

"His family is Five-0. We all look out for one another. We've worked together and saved each other's asses over the years and now we're family. He's closer than my own brother and, given Steve's nature, he sometimes requires a bit more umm . . . 'looking out' for than the average guy." smiled Danny as he set the now empty bottle down on the table.

Ruiz silently took in the answer, nodding his head without comment. Danny wondered if the ex-SEAL was going to cooperate. Maybe the fact he'd also been a cop would work in his favor, you know, cop-to-cop talk.

"So how long ago did you work with Steve?" asked Danny, trying to ease into it.

"Lotta years ago. Opie was just a JG when we were first deployed together."

"Opie?" smiled Danny. I thought his name is Smooth Dog?"

"Yeah, well to his face anyway." chuckled Ruiz relaxing back into the wooden chair. "When he was assigned to my unit he was so green he almost had moss growing behind his ears. Total boy scout. The Smooth Dog moniker just didn't seem to fit a kid who practically slept at attention."

"I imagine you had a hand in toughening him up?" smiled Danny, "Good job by-the-way."

"Oh, he was tough enough. Never seen one tougher or more determined." said Ruiz

"Well that much hasn't changed."

"So." asked Ruiz once again pinning him with his nearly black eyes, "What's the plan if you catch up to him?"

"Not really sure." replied Danny honestly. "Mostly, I want to watch his back in case he gets into something over his head."

"Opie would have to be in hella-deep if it was over his head." opined Ruiz as he stirred what seemed a half-cup of sugar into his coffee. Though the temp had to be in the high nineties the ex-SEAL was still drinking hot coffee.

Danny hesitated before looking pointedly at the man sitting before him to say, "I'm not entirely sure what Steve has planned when he catches up to whoever he's pursuing. I have a feeling it's something that could get him into trouble if anyone were to find out. Leader of Five-0 or not, there's still some things that can't be overlooked."

"Yeah," sighed Ruiz, confirming Danny's statement with a grim smile, "You're right. I also got the feeling there won't be any need for paperwork."

"I have to catch up to him before he does something stupid." said Danny, "I don't know how, but I've gotta get him back to the islands in one piece and without the need for a good defense attorney."

"So, how are we gonna accomplish this?" asked Ruiz, leaning forward.

…..

After driving for forty-five minutes through the foothills as dust devils blew across the road before them and scruffy little ground squirrels scampered out of the way, Danny Williams and Bobby Ruiz pulled up to the weathered general store at the base of the mountain and parked in the rock strewn area in front of it. They walked into a wooden building that smelled of machine oil and the coils of hemp rope for sale on pegs near the doorway.

"Hey Tex you here?!" yelled out Ruiz as they tramped across the dusty floor toward the back. It was nearly as hot inside as out.

"That you Bobby?" they heard; the voice booming from the open doorway at the back that probably lead to an office or storeroom.

As both men turned toward the source, out clumped the largest, darkest, man the detective had ever seen. He was the color of ebony and as big as a Sequoia.

The compact detective wondered if everyone he was going to meet here would be successively bigger with each new introduction. The big man smiled at Ruiz and said, "Hey Bobby. Who's your little friend?"

Now Danny was used to hearing that word and, in the past, had even 'corrected' those who dared use it but he detected no ill-will behind the description. Besides, he'd need climbing gear to be able to reach this guy's face if he was intending to punch him in the nose.

Ruiz looked over at him and said, "Don't take offense Danny; in Tex's eyes everyone is little. Hell, even Steve looks delicate next to this monster."

The huge man smiled affably and extended a gigantic paw in greeting as Ruiz introduced them, "Tex Trumble, meet Danny Williams, he's a friend of Opie's . . . err . . . Smooth Dog's."

….

It was a good thing he'd rented the 4-wheel drive. The rutted road was strewn with rocks and boulders and even crossed a stream that looked as though it had been a lot higher during yesterday's storm. Judging from the debris caught in the low branches of the cottonwoods lining its course, it had been quite a torrent. But right now the flow was barely more than a muddy trickle as he drove across it.

He glanced over at the SIG on the seat beside him. It was the same model as the one he owned. He didn't want to risk getting on a plane with it. No matter how well-constructed, it was best not to give anyone cause to check into the identity of Owen Shealey. He trusted he could get his hands on weapons easily enough when he arrived on the mainland. Besides, ballistics would be too easy to trace back to him if it ever became necessary. Having a network of friends from his days in the military would always come in handy. Most were guys who wouldn't ask that many questions.

He swore as the tire hit a particularly large rock hidden under the shallow water that still held enough silt to obscure the streambed. The unsecured gun slid off the seat to land on the floor. As he hit the brakes and bent to pick it up, a barrage of bullets shattered the windshield over his head.

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Whump coming up in the next chapter. There will be blood.

Please review. You don't have to be nice if you don't want to. I'm tough, (just don't make me deal with spiders).