A/N: Many, many thanks for the new follows and favorites, as well as all the great comments! Your enthusiastic response has been incredibly encouraging! The Dogo! Look for the familiar sentence in this chapter!

CHAPTER 13

Saturday, 10am – Mau'I Memorial Medical, post op waiting area, Mau'i

The team had moved up a floor to the surgical post op waiting area. MPD officers had come and gone, with updates on the marijuana smuggling case. Chin had left Steve and Kono's side just long enough to check on Ayden Aikau, ensconced elsewhere in the hospital. It seemed the young cowboy had suffered a bleed from a skull fracture, which when coupled with dehydration, caused his strange behavior at the cabin. He was expected to make a complete recovery, although he remained in the hospital for observations, and was sleeping like a baby now, handcuffed to his bedrail.

Kono, though, was afraid to leave her boss´side. She had never seen him this destroyed before, not even after his last battle with Wo Fat. Then, even though he had been horribly tortured and beaten physically, he seemed okay with it all, as if it had been a test of his own resilience, and he had survived it. He seemed to be at peace with his demons, all except for his mother and her part in all his trials and tribulations, but maybe he really wasn't?

Now, his composure was shattered. He was a man crushed by the overwhelming stress of a too long day, and a night consumed with fear, adrenaline, and guilt. His eyes were hooded, unreadable. Something else was going on inside him, an inner turmoil he refused, or was incapable, of sharing. Kono could tell he would not move from that spot, in that waiting room, until he knew that his best friend was going to survive this ordeal, so she became his self appointed bodyguard and go-between.

She fielded MPD questions concerning the Five-0 officer's condition, while graciously accepting condolences and offers of prayers, and assistance, from police officers arriving at the hospital to keep vigil for one of their own. She made the requisite calls to Oahu-to the Governor's office, Kamekona, Duke, and even to Lou on vacation with his family in Chicago. He, of course, offered to catch the next plane back, but Kono tiredly informed him there was nothing he could do just now. She promised to keep him in the loop, all the while keeping her boss squarely in her sights. He had his cell phone out in his hands, but all he seemed to be doing was glare at it.

"I have to call Rachel. She has to know. God, what do I say? 'Well, Rachel, I finally screwed the pooch and this time Danny's going to pay with his life for my mistake? You tell Gracie I'm sorry now, okay?' Just how am I supposed to do this? Later. When I have some answers for them, I'll call." Yeah, he knew he was procrastinating. He couldn't help it. He didn't know how to face Danny's loved ones, and admit he had let his partner down.

Steve started sliding his thumb across the face of his phone. He smiled wistfully at the pictures passing before him of himself, with Danny and Grace, at the beach last weekend. Amber had taken the pictures, and everyone looked so happy, and healthy. "She's good for you, Danny. She's a keeper, buddy!" Suddenly realizing he would have to call her, too, Steve once again lowered his head to his chest and silently prayed for deliverance.

H50H50H50

The morning dragged on. The island sun was beating through the shades of the east-facing windows, fighting off the air conditioning-created arctic chill enveloping the inhabitants of the surgical wing of the regional hospital. The staff had changed shifts five hours before. It was impressive how many people had spent the night, and morning, in the tiny surgical waiting room, and even more baffling, the number of empty coffee cups littering every table surface.

Ten hours after Danny had been whisked into surgery to repair damaged organs, Dr. Peterman walked into the waiting area. He looked around among the throng of officers with MPD and State Department of Livestock badges - Pilipo had arrived at 8 am to help keep vigil - and one HPD sergeant accompanied by a large Samoan in a tee shirt with a picture of his head on a shrimp's body. "Surreal," was Alan Peterman's initial thought, but of course, he had just been through a marathon surgical procedure, so if he thought it strange to see a mountain of a man with a picture of himself as a shrimp on his shirt, then he felt he completely deserved to feel that way.

Peterman noted Commander McGarrett was infinitely slower to rise and face him this morning. The wear and tear on the man's face, and his slumped body language, had Peterman mentally preparing another bed for the Commander. Luckily he had some good news for these people.

"Detective Williams has made it through surgery." There was a collective sigh from the inhabitants of the small room, and some quiet back slapping and smiles all around. "He has a long road to recovery ahead, though, and he is not out of the woods by a long shot. The next forty-eight hours will be crucial."

Peterman silently harrumphed at his last sentence. It seems to be the one phrase every television doctor has said, since time immemorial, to make-believe loved ones sitting in waiting rooms a lot nicer than this stark, drab room. Unfortunately, it was a true statement more times than not.

"Can we see him?" The commander's voice sounded like sandpaper drawn over rough lumber, and strangely it lacked any sense of vitality.

Peterman observed the commander more closely. The man was filthy from head to foot. Mud and manure caked the bottom of his boots, and his cream colored camo pants were torn and covered with mud. His hands and arms were still stained with blood. Obviously, he hadn't taken any time to clean up, probably to eat, either. The doctor made a decision.

"Detective Williams will be in recovery for at least an hour, after which he'll be settled in a cubicle in the surgical ICU. It will be at least two hours before he can have visitors, and even then, he won't be communicating with you. We won't be bringing him out of the medically induced coma, necessary to keep him calm, until he's started healing, possibly this evening but more likely tomorrow. I want you and your team to get out of here and clean up, eat something, and try to get some sleep. Your partner will get the best possible care, I assure you, Commander."

There was something in the doctor's eyes, compassion but also steely resolve to get his way, and after a short stare down, Steve abruptly nodded, turned to Chin and the rest of the entourage, and simply said, "Doc is right, Danny's in good hands. Let's go."

Saturday, 1pm – Old Wailuku Inn, Wailuku, Mau'i

The showers at the Old Wailuku Inn were clean, functional, and welcome. Steve, Kono, and Chin had each partaken in the longest, hottest shower any of them had indulged in for what seemed like ages, and as they sat around the table on the lanai, a strong sense of Ohana embraced the gathered group of friends. Kamekona had rounded up some garlic shrimp from one of his cousins' shrimp truck businesses on the island – not anywhere near as good as his, but edible, at least. Duke had joined the group after interviewing Robert Harris. The rancher was understandably appalled to learn his bull had wreaked such havoc, and that his cows had been pawns in the smuggling operation. The poor man had apparently taken an early flight back from the big island in order to lend any assistance he could to the investigation.

Everyone quietly visited while they ate, but no one broached the subject of the case, or of their missing family member. It was obvious that Steve was physically present, but his mind was locked on other thoughts, mentally miles away.

"I want to get going on this case before I go back to the hospital."

Steve startled everyone with the intensity in his voice. He had been so quiet ever since the doctor had informed them all at the hospital that Danny was out of surgery, but now an undercurrent of anger sizzled close to the surface, and the man couldn't quite keep it under wraps. These people who knew him the best weren't fooled by his outwardly calm demeanor.

"Do we know who was transporting the drugs? Has Aikau given any indication?"

Chin felt the piercing stare his boss was giving him as sharply as if a stake was being driven into his skull.

"Ayden mumbled something about a 'Mr. Montoya' telling him to bring you to the mountain pasture. Maui PD is working to identify this Montoya. So far, nothing has …turned… up… Steve, what is it?"

As Chin had been informing his friend of Ayden's information, he watched Steve's face pale considerably. His features completely shut off, keeping unwanted visitors at bay.

Pushing himself out of his lounge chair, Steve snapped back at Chin, "Nothing's wrong. Go back and talk to Ayden again. He must know more." With that, Steve turned on his heel and marched off the lanai for the parking lot, leaving his Ohana staring, as his hunched back disappeared around the corner of the building.

"Where are you going, Boss?" Kono, her boss' self-appointed keeper, quickly caught up to Steve, trying to keeping pace with him.

"I'm going to the Livestock offices. Nagahara might have some more info on how the marijuana was supposed to make it to the mainland and where it was headed from there."

"Oh, no problem, I can call Pilipo about that from here." Kono had her phone out and was already dialing when she ran right up on her bosses' heels. He had literally stopped in his tracks. She felt the full force of his anger as he turned his head to glare at her, locking her in place. "I have to DO something, Kono. I'm dying here. I can't sit. I can't sleep. I have to move. Now, you can come along if you must, but stay out of my way." With that, a bemused and bewildered Kono was left standing in his dust.

H50H50H50

Pilipo Nagahara soon found himself face to face with a pacing Commander McGarrett. He was not the confident, self-assured man of yesterday. As he paced back and forth in Pilipo's office, the veterinarian had a chance to observe the commander's physical state without being too obvious, and he was shocked at what he saw. The man's demeanor epitomized a sense of loss, a touch of dread, and instability of emotions. Physically, Pilipo wondered how the man was even still standing. His coloring was ashen. Huge blue black circles of crepe –textured skin hung under his eyes, while his face was drawn, and lined with worry. His shoulders were hunched forward, and the vein in his neck was bulging. It was obvious that the tide of events in the last 24 hours had taken its toll on the leader of the Governor's task force.

Pilipo was glad he had something useful to tell the Commander. "We have found five other cows in that shipment showing signs of respiratory distress, Sir. We can only assume, at this point, that they are packed with Cannabis boluses." Handing a document over to McGarrett, Pilipo continued, "Here is the market permit Ayden filed. It shows that the shipment was to be delivered in four days to Samuelson Organic Meats and Poultry, a certified organic ranch in San Juan Bautista, California, via the Matson shipping freighter named the "Barbary Coast."

"Good. We'll take it from here." Steve was briskly turning on his heel to leave when Pilipo stopped him with an audible clearing of his throat.

"Commander, I'm so very sorry your partner was injured. I never should have called the Governor's office without verification of BSE. I just…well…I was too sure of myself. Because of me, you and your partner were not prepared for what happened on the Harris Ranch." Pilipo truly did feel responsible for all of yesterday's events, but he was not expecting Commander McGarrett's reaction.

Steve listened to Pilipo's apology without interruption, but when the young veterinarian finished speaking, he looked him in the eye and said, "None of this is your fault, Doc. I take full responsibility. I looked at this case as a lark, a simple act of a sick cow threatening the livestock economy of the state, and I wasn't concerned enough. There were indications all wasn't as cut and dry as it seemed, but I didn't pay attention to my gut. I didn't take enough precautions, and I'm the only one to blame for what happened to my partner."

Steve was half way to the doctor's door before he turned around, and with sad eyes raised to meet the vet's, a small, curt smile on his lips, addressed the man who reminded him so much of Max, "Thank you for your honesty, Doc, and your concern for my partner. I appreciate it."

A/N: Well darn, Steve is really feeling guilty, isn't he? It's a good thing his Ohana is with him!