EPISODE 7 "Ho'apono" (Accept)

Part 3

"Who's out there?" Graham shouted.

"McGarrett, I'm sorry," Ed murmured.

"Go back to the office, okay?" Steve jumped up, giving the older man his bag and his gun. "Lock the door. Stay in there."

"What are you gonna do?"

Steve looked at the older man and took his hat with 'U.S.S Missouri' printed on it in gold. "I'm gonna cover you," he said, nudging him away from the scene "Go."

"I swear if you come in here," Graham called, "I'll kill all of these people."

Steve came in a different door than the other man expected, raising his hands as Graham locked him gun on him and shouted. "Hands up!"

"Hey. Don't shoot, man," Steve said, trying to inject the right amount of uncertainty into his voice. "I was- I got lost. I was looking for the bathroom. I don't understand. What's happening?"

"All right. Hat off," Graham seethed. Steve reached on hand up and tipped the hat off of his head. "Hands behind your head."

"Please. Please, don't shoot me."

"Turn around." He did as instructed. "On your knees." Graham came up behind him, patting down the pockets of Steve's cargo pants and then gripping onto the back of Steve's shirt, forcing him up and then shoving him into the other hostages, between two older men both wearing blue 'Hawaiian style' shirts. "Get down there. Keep your mouth shut."

After a few minutes, Steve moved slightly over to the red-faced panting woman. "Hey. Hey, you okay? You don't look too good," he said. The man next to her rubbed her back slightly but looked at a loss for what to do.

"Hey. No talking here!" Graham snapped.

"I don't think she's well," Steve looked up at the armed man. "I think she's sick, man. Take a look at her."

"She's fine."

"I'm okay," she nodded at Steve.

"Can we get some water at least?"

"What part of 'no talking' do you not follow?"

"Dr. Klesko, we've got three hours to figure this out," Danny asked the woman as he and Chin walked with her— Mitch in the car reading through the Russian journal— on the grassy lawn of the Makalapa Naval Health Clinic. "Can you tell us why you were treating Graham?"

"His team walked into an ambush in Ba'qubah, Iraq," the short dark-haired doctor in her naval uniform answered. "In the crossfire were a group of children and none of them survived. The trauma took a huge psychological toll," she said. "Mood swings, violent outbursts. It escalated to the point the MPs were called to his house for a domestic disturbance."

"You diagnosed him with post-traumatic stress disorder?" Chin inferred.

"Yes, and we were making progress," she said earnestly. "Graham was showing real signs of improvement. And then he had a setback."

"What kind of setback?" Danny prodded.

"He became convinced that the drugs were clouding his judgment," he said, "so he started skipping doses. And that only made his paranoia worse. It got to the point that he started experiencing blackouts."

Danny's eyebrows lifted. "He started passing out?"

"No," the doctor shook her head. "PTSD patients can slip into a dissociative fugue state. It happens when they get agitated or perceive a threat," she explained. "They can become enraged, sometimes violent. And when it's over, they have no recollection of what happened."

"So it's possible Graham killed his wife without even realizing it?" Chin said.

"I'd say it's more than possible," Danny nodded.

"Don't. Don't," McGarrett chanted quietly, noticed just seconds before he moved what the man beside him was about to do. "Don't do it," he said softly as the large man pushed himself off the ground and swung a large first towards Graham only for the SEAL to catch it, slamming his own fist into the civilian man's gut and then grabbing hold of his clothing and ramming him headfirst into the brass structural pol in the center of the room.

Steve discreetly caught the pocket knife that skidded across the floor and stood, rushing forward, only to be halted by Graham's gun.

"Who are you?" he said suspiciously, gun aimed. "You're not a tourist. I said, who are you?" he became agitated.

"My name is Steve McGarrett," he said calmly, hand out in front of him. "I'm Five-0. But before that, I was a SEAL just like you. BUD/S Class 203."

"They send you in here to get me?" He said.

"No," Steve shook his head. "I came in by myself. I don't want anyone else involved until we get a chance to talk straight. Okay?" he said. "You can tell me what really happened. For your service, I thought you deserved at least that much."

"I didn't kill my wife," Graham said strongly, after lowering the gun slowly.

"Okay," Steve nodded, lowering his hands as well. "I believe you, man. We're trying to get to the bottom of that right now."

Graham looked down, suddenly whispering. "Where is it?" He gripped his gun in both hands once again. "Where's the knife?" he raised it. "Where's the knife?" he demanded urgently.

"Wait," Steve called, "Graham. Graham, listen," he said. "Nobody one took your knife. Alright? Maybe you lost it. But you have a gun," he pointed out, "Graham, you have a gun. That's right. You're in control," Steve said. "Everybody here knows that." They nodded readily. "We all know who's in control here. But you gotta listen to me. If you're telling me the truth, my team is gonna find that out. They're working the case as we speak. But you're not making it easy on us, Graham," she shook his head and gestured around them slowly, "holding all these people here. You gotta do the right thing for yourself, for your daughter."

"Where's Lily?" his face pinched angrily, raising his gun suddenly once again and pointing it at Steve.

"My team has her," he backed up a step. "She's safe. I promise you," he said. "You have my word," he held up one hand in a manner reminiscent of an oath. "Let's just let a couple of folks go."

"Come on," Graham shook his head as if the idea were laughable. "You're a SEAL and your best tactical advice is for me to let go of my only leverage?"

"What are you talking about?" Steve said and pointed to himself. "You got me. Take me instead."

"I have you too."

"Come on, Graham," Steve shoot his head. "You gotta give me something, man. You gotta show me a little goodwill. At least let me check on this guy before he bleeds out," he motioned to the injured man lying on the ground.

"Fine. Clean him up," Graham shook his head.

"Empty your pockets and your purses," Steve said.

"Don't do anything," Graham roared over him.

Steve held his hands out to the side. "I gotta stop the bleeding here. I got no supplies. I need some nail glue, a sewing kit, anything. That's it."
Graham paused, then conceded, saying "Empty them. Don't try anything."

"Hey, it's okay. It's okay," Steve knelt by the bleeding man and examined the profusely bleeding head wound. "Let me take a look. All right, you messed him up pretty good, Graham. The good news is you didn't kill him.

"I know," he said. "If I wanted him dead, he'd be dead."

"Hey, pretty ladies," Kamekona grinned kindly, setting the tray of two large cones of shaved ice in front of Kono and Lily. "Two biggies on the house."

"Aw, Thank you," Kono smiled.

"No problem," he looked from her to the tiny little auburn-haired girl. "Anything else, just holler."

"Okay. That's yours," Kono motioned to the half-cherry half-lemon ice and handed her a green straw-spoon. "Mm. This one's mine." She scooped a bit of the deep purple, grape-flavored ice into her mouth and then looked over at Lily. "Is it good?" she asked. Lily didn't answer. "My favorite is grape. You know why? Makes my, uh, tongue purple," she stuck her tongue out at the younger girl. Lily smiled a little, almost laughing. "See?"

Lily only looked like she was eating the cherry flavored part. Kono brushed the hair the wind blew in her face out of the way and asked. "You don't like the lemon?"

"Daddy eats that part," Lily said, the first thing she'd said all day.

Steve got the man sitting in an upright position, swiping a couple of useful things from the pile of knick-knacks and loose ends the hostages had piled on the table while Graham looked out the window, like one woman's blush and a small makeup kit. "So this one night at BUD/S," Steve began, unprompted, "me and a couple of the guys were sneaking back onto the base, right?" Graham looked at him as he used a bit of nail glue to temporarily SEAL the man's head wound. "And we hear this real mean crusty," he changed his voice to mimic the sound, "'Hey, you ladies ready to get wet and sandy'?"

"Master Chief White?" Graham said deeply in recognition.

"Yes, sir," Steve nodded.

"Bet he wasn't too happy, huh? "

"What, are you kidding me?" Steve said. "He was thrilled to catch us. He gave us five extra hours of cold-water conditioning. We didn't get out of the water until dawn." He wiped a bit of blood away from the other man's wound and said, "Now, that's tough love for you." He paused, "So, Graham, tell me about Noreen. Where did you guys meet?"

"Germany, six and a half years ago," Graham answered. "I was traveling through Europe on leave. She was working at an all-ranks club in Ramstein. She had just immigrated there with her daughter. Three months later, we were married," he said."

"From Russia, right?" Steve chanced.

Graham's eyes narrowed. "How did you know?"

"I told you," he said, "my people are investigating."

"Well, she changed her name just before we moved to the States. She didn't like the name Irina anyway," he shook his head. "She just wanted to put her past behind her, you know," he said, "start a new life."

"And her daughter, Lily," Steve said, stepping away from the wounded man."She was from a previous marriage?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "Lily's father died just before she was born. Lily," he paused. "I can't imagine what she's going through."

"Graham, what happened this morning?"

"We fought," he said. "We argued." He shook his head, shrugging. "I don't even know what it was about, I- I know I haven't been easy to live with," he admitted. "Ever since I've been back, you know, it's been difficult," he said. "Noreen says sometimes that she's scared of me. That I'm not even the same guy that she was married to." He sniffed.

"But I was dealing with it. I was getting better. You know, the shrink says, you know, 'When you get worked up, just take two laps around the block, you know, clear your head.' And that's what I did."

"Right," Steve nodded, "So you left the house?"

"And when I came back, there she was in the middle of the living room," Graham said. "And I tried to resuscitate her. That's when the cops- they show up. After all Noreen and I had been through, I figured they'd think I'd hurt her," he said. "I was scared. I ran." Tears escaped the corner of his eyes as he talked about it, running down his face.

"I'd never hurt Noreen," he said. "It means everything for Lily to know that I didn't do this to her mother."

"I get it, Graham," Steve said, moving a step forward.

It was the wrong move. Suddenly, Graham was shouting, gun raised at Steve once again. "Whoa. What are you doing?"

"What?" Steve backed a step, holding his hands up in a harmless manner.

"Back,"Graham demanded. "You don't think I know what you're doing?" he said.

"Listen, I'm not doing anything," Steve said, hands in front of him.

"We're done. Let's go. You're done playing nurse."

"Graham, this guy needs a CAT scan," Steve gestured to the seated man with an open palm. "He needs to get off the ship. Keep me," he said. "Keep all these other people, but let this guy go. Prove to me, Graham. Prove to me that you're a good man."

"All right," he nodded after a moment, lowering the gun slightly. "Hey, you're free to go."

The wounded man looked at Steve who pointed over his shoulder at the door and moved out of the way. "Go. Get out of here."

"All right. Everybody else, we're moving out," Graham said, then said eyes on Steve, "Except you," he said loudly, pointing his gun at Steve. "You're going in there," he gestured to the officer head and shower. "Uh-uh," he stopped Steve when he moved around the table in his way toward Graham. "Around," meaning the other way. "I'm not interested in playing any more of your head games. Get in," he said, watching closely as Steve opened the door and stepped backward inside, ducking his head under the from. "Close the door," he said, then shouted at the civilians to "Get back!" until they scrambled out of his way. He used a bit of metal chain from the kitchen and the large soup spoon to jam the door in place and create a makeshift deadbolt.

Steve turned the light on inside and exhaled. "Terrific."

He saw a missed call from Danny so he returned it. "Where are you?" the blond asked harshly with no lead-in

"The head," Steve said, "Graham barricaded me in here. Mitch with you?"

"No she's translating Russian," he said offhandedly. "You're stuck in a bathroom? I could have gotten locked into a bathroom."

"It's a long story," Steve sighed.

"Okay. I'm calling SWAT," Danny said.

"No, you won't call SWAT," Steve said strongly. "I'll find a way out of here. Just tell me, what have you got?"

"Okay," Danny said frustratedly sitting down in his office at HQ. "Graham's psychiatrist said that he's been experiencing blackouts, which means that he may have killed his wife without even realizing it."

"No," Steve shook his head, "it doesn't make sense."

"How does that not make sense?" Danny asked. "How does that not make sense to you? I mean, the guy fled the crime scene with the murder weapon in his hand, huh?" he said. "I mean, I am no detective. Wait a minute," he said, holding his hand aloft. "Where am I? Oh, I'm a detective. He is still our prime suspect." Steve resisted the urge to roll his eyes, instead, looking around for a mean to escape.

"Graham identified me a threat and didn't do anything, okay?" Steve pointed out. "He could've killed me, but didn't."

"All right, listen. I know this guy is a SEAL, all right?" Danny began, "And brothers in arms, the whole thing, I get that. But that does not mean he didn't kill his wife."

"You're right," Steve sighed. "You're right. But I promised him that we'd investigate this murder," he said.

"What do you think I'm doing?" Danny said, "I am investigating. Unfortunately, he's our only suspect and in my experience," he said, voice rising, "when you only have one suspect, he's usually the one that you put in jail, okay? You want me to broaden the search, fine, but you're gonna have to give me something else."

"As a matter of fact," Steve thought, "I actually might have a new lead. Graham said that Noreen was a Russian citizen. They moved here six years ago."

"That would explain why she has no record prior to '04," Danny said.

"Right. And she changed her identity before they came here. Her first name is Irina. So dig deeper," he said. "You know what? Maybe that manuscript you found can help."

"Okay. Well, Mitchy is working on that now— said she'd be done in about an hour," Danny checked the time. "Oh, and the key, I got a match to a safe-deposit box at First Hawaiian Bank. They're sending the contents over right now." There was a loud clattering noise outside of the head. "What was that? What the hell was that?" Danny asked worriedly.

"I'll call you back. I'll call you back," Steve repeated and hung, up, raising his fists and taking position next to the door, only to lower them when it was Ed who opened it.

"I figured you'd want your things back," he handed Steve his bag.

"How did you get past Graham without him seeing you?" Steve asked.

"Well, I know things about this ship that aren't on your map," the old man smirked.

"I thought I told you to stay put."

"Hm?" he hummed, eyebrows furrowing, though a smile also arose. "I'm an old man. I don't always hear so good."