LOST AND FOUND
Sequel to fanfic
Three Hour Tour – Hawaii Five-0 / Gilligan's Island crossover
1964 – Ala Wai Yacht Harbor Honolulu – Rich socialite Randolph Blake is killed by misadventure - a spear gun. The next morning seven suspects with motive, opportunity and means board the SS Minnow for a three-hour tour and are not heard of again.
Hawaii Five-0 investigates. McGarrett theorizes what happened, yet without conclusive proof, the case remains one of the few open cases of the state police unit.
October 1978 -
The Five-0 staff – Steve McGarrett – is emotionally reeling. Just a few months before Chin Ho Kelly had been murdered during an undercover case. Hardly a week ago, Dan Williams had been kidnapped and tortured to betray Five-0 and nearly kill McGarrett.
October 1978 -
After fourteen years, the castaways from Gilligan's Island are rescued.
OCT 1978
I
Slanted rain hit the surface of the enormous observation windows of Honolulu International Airport in giant, noisy splotches. The wind carrying them sideways splattered the wet bombs to slide along in an erratic dance of wild choreography against the glass. The tropical storm scheduled for later that evening arrived earlier than expected and fooled the meteorologists. Again.
Glancing at his watch as he paced, Steve McGarrett pushed aside his annoyance; at the weather, at the onslaught of time, that unforgiving taskmaster. Truth be told, at himself for arriving too early. Irritation at his own nerves exacerbated all the other conditions to drive his usual impatience to distraction.
Danno's plane was late. Because of the storm. McGarrett had arrived early, anxious to meet up with his friend. This marked Williams' return from his first solo assignment since the despicable torture and brainwashing incident his second-in-command had endured little more than a week ago.
Were Steve's motivations – what - over-protective? Yeah. He had a right to it, he justified. Only watching out for his aikane. He knew too well the short and long-term effects of captivity.
Outwardly, at least, Danno seemed to be recovering well. Outwardly, Steve could say the same. The inner nightmares and solitary, residual trauma were not so easy to erase.
He took a breath reminding the worst was behind them. His friend was recovering steadily. Today was just a quick jaunt over to nearby Kauai to take statements from some witnesses. Coming back the same day. No reason to worry. The small shuttle plane must have left behind schedule after the southern-drifting storm.
This Saturday afternoon excursion to retrieve Williams personally from the airport marked the start of their weekend. From here they would retreat to their respective homes, gear up, and float down to Maui. Sailing – escape - McGarrett's cure for both of them.
Maybe he should have taken time to change into casual wear for the day off. He chuckled. Danno always had a pithy comment about his loud and colorful Aloha shirts! That would set the mood for their brief holiday!
Turning back to pace toward the end of the terminal. Scowling, he studied the dark storm clouds just beyond the window. The intense cloudburst had ceased - that was a positive - Honolulu was not entirely dominated by gloom. Charcoal-hued skies remained close – heavy - with the touch of mist. Clinging moisture in the air prevalent even inside the airport.
This ambiance reminded him of the few brief jaunts he had taken to his ancestral Emerald Isle on the other side of the world. On days like this, Ireland seemed much closer than geography. The lyrical residents of County Clerk had an appropriate name for this type of weather – soft day.
The thought eased the tensions within. He allowed himself a moment of relaxation to breathe in the moist, floral scented atmosphere. To appreciate the tropical warmth as opposed to the frosty dampness of emerald Eire.
The lash of heavy rain on the huge windows startled him back to reality. The brief respite was over and the storm returned with a vengeance. Out at sea the maelstrom seemed a lid of darkness across the horizon. He willed the disagreeable weather to go away. The forecast indicated the gale would sweep westward of their Islands soon. That better be right he grumbled to himself. Or the climate gods would have Tempest-McGarrett to deal with!
A squall interrupting his well-formulated plan – not acceptable. Everything was set in place. Duke Lukela was duty officer for the next two days. The nasty weather might present problems on Kauai or Oahu so HPD officers were on call to help with any hot ticket items. While McGarrett, his sailboat, and his second-in-command headed to Maui.
His stomach gurgled. He should have eaten lunch before he left the Palace. Too much of a hurry. Eyes scanned to the nearby gift shop. A package of those delightful chocolate chip macadamia nut cookies shaped like little pineapples that Danno favored were tempting. Maybe he would buy a package and save only one cookie for his friend.
Chuckling, he wondered at his quirky mood. Relief. The explanation leapt to the front of his mind with flashing neon letters! Reprieve! Danno had recovered from the frightening spy incident! Steve had not lost his closest friend despite so many wrong choices!
McGarrett KNEW they were dealing with international spies, brainwashing, kidnapping, and violent assassination that fateful week! Yet he ordered his second-in-command into an undercover mission with NO backup! What happened because of his lax and casual oversight? Only his friend tortured, drugged, brainwashed to commit treason and try to kill him! Williams coming close to death! That was all!
How could he foresee Wo Fat's evil reach – who else would be behind such an insidious plot? Who else would send a talented accomplice to wreck ruin upon him and his closest friend so skillfully? Targeting Danno . . .
Years ago, Danno had speculated that someone who really wanted to inflict pain on Steve would not hit him directly. To make him really suffer the victim would be a victim close to him. How prophetic and terrifying and true! There may not be any greater suffering than to know his best friend had received the same horrendous warping of mind and will as Steve had endured at the hands of Wo Fat!
Stomach burbling again McGarrett paced away from the windows. The new vantage forcing him to break off the self-condemnation. Danno was all right. Health certified as fine. Back to work. Light duty until today.
His grumbling stomach protested again. Yeah, he was going to buy those mac nut cookies!
His shift in locational perspective provided a new anomaly which captured his attention as he strolled toward the gift shop. There was an unusual flurry of activity at the nearest Hawaiian Air counter. His well-attuned cop instinct for trouble alerted him. Several supervisor-type officials congregated near the arrivals gate. Flight 701 had not pulled up to the walkway. McGarrett had been watching for that! What was going on?
A familiar, stiff, authoritative figure joined the airline personnel. Former military - obvious from his crisp demeanor – Mick Windsor now served as FAA's chief investigator for the South Pacific. The expert had worked numerous cases with Hawaii Five-0.
The arrival of the federal agent could only mean a confirmation of Steve's sixth-sense for distress. Clamping down his growing alarm with rigid control, the cop stalked toward the gathered authorities.
Possibly working on his own instincts, Windsor glanced up, recognized the detective, and briskly moved to intercept.
"Steve, it looks like you're here for Flight 701."
One of the reasons he always liked working with Windsor; professional, to the point, no wasting time.
The specific reason for Steve's presence here caught in his throat. He couldn't put the name with a possible emergency. This month there had been enough trauma to last a lifetime. He simply answered with a tight nod.
"Let's talk over here."
Windsor indicated a door across the hall. He led the way without waiting for a response. With stiff foreboding, McGarrett matched the investigator's brisk stride. Once inside the room labeled Hawaiian Air Crew Only the cop took a rigid stance next to the wall.
"What's wrong?" He unclenched his tight jaw muscles enough, tersely snapping out the demand. "Is it 701?"
Mick's thin grey/blond hair was little protection against the intense Tropic heat. His face and arms wore the beginnings of sunburn. He seemed to pale, though, as he fixed his eyes onto his companion.
"The squall was tracking just north of Kauai," he began in a tone of complete professionalism. "701 was on the flight path to avoid any problems. As you know it's one of our smaller shuttles. Prop job with only three passengers and three flight crew. The storm turned suddenly. The last contact was the pilot's mayday."
Gulping down his parched, constricted throat, McGarrett negatively shook his head. He could not speak to deny. His brain kept repeating 'No! Not possible! This can't happen!'
The import of Steve's reaction sank in.
Windsor grimly deduced, "One of your men was on the flight."
Mick's stoic mask was swept away and his expression crinkled in sorrow. He had been introduced to the Hawaii state police through Chin Ho Kelly. Just months ago Chin had been murdered in the line of duty. At an ohana gathering, a touching tribute to the fallen officer was offered by Mick. He knew the team - McGarrett's reaction must mean another detective in peril.
The sick shock and denial wore off, as it always did, in the wash of anger and determination.
"Danno."
Speaking the name came with a shudder of despair. His officer's plane lost to the elemental violence of nature. The cherished identity however also invoked power and tenacity. Flaming his resolute certainty that he could not lose his closest friend he allowed the defiance and fury supremacy. Not after Chin's death. Not after nearly losing his aikane to the torture of the wicked Red Chinese woman. He would not lose Danno!
"Steve, I can't tell you how sorry—"
The cop interrupted the consolation. "What measures have you taken? Is the Coast Guard in the air yet?"
The FAA investigator instantly stepped into his professional capacity to offer practical aid. "Coast Guard chopper is retracing 701s flightpath as far as it is safe. We've got a cutter on the way from Barbers Point. Navy is diverting a few ships –"
"I'm going to join them."
"Steve, they went do—we lost contact in the middle of that storm. It's too early –"
"I'm going. I'll be in touch on the radio. I want to know everything you know when you know!"
He tore out of the room at a jog, his speed increasing the closer he came to the exit. Jumping into his sedan he rocketed away. Pushing past the fears that kept brushing at his nerves like the waves at high tide, like the pelting rain on his car, he forced himself not to speculate. Focus on the next steps.
The race to the Coast Guard station was completed in a blur. One of the officers ran out of the headquarters to meet him. Little information was exchanged. Weather had cleared enough to put a second chopper in the air. It was on hold waiting for his arrival to take him to the last known coordinates of 701. Windsor must have contacted the base and arranged for this expedited transition.
Five-0 enjoyed a close working relationship with the Coast Guard as well as all local representatives from the armed services and FAA. Out of necessity since so much law enforcement overlapped with the branch responsible for protecting Hawaiian waters. On a more personal level, Danno was a veteran of the Coast Guard and served as Five-0's liaison with them. A few of the officers regularly presented Williams with the newest version of Coast Guard neckties - perhaps in a territorial representation to counter McGarrett's overt Navy connections. It was a subtle reminder Williams was on their team.
'He's on MY team,' was his fervent assertion.
Steve strapped into the big Sikorsky helicopter. Immediately it lifted up into a now blustery but misty, overcast sky over Honolulu. Thoughts skittered and slid through shallow impressions; the brilliant blue of the Hawaiian heavens mottled with billowing clouds. The deep cobalt of the ocean that glistened in the returning sunlight. The resurgence of boats and tourists and surfers as the tropical trade winds pushed the tempest away. A rainbow cast a pastel arch over the distant line of moana and heaven.
He and his aikane should have been down there enjoying the afternoon brilliance of a glorious day in paradise! The rainbow after the rain.
The intense and fickle disturbance had swept in unexpectedly. Targeting the plane that should have been safe. That should have landed on time. That should have completed an innocuous journey for his officer!
'The rainbow didn't come soon enough!' was his condemning, bitter accusation.
II
'…kill McGarrett! Kill McGarrett! Kill him!'
A mighty jolt thrust Dan Williams from his nightmarish doze! Disoriented, he rubbed his temples. The residual headache plaguing him since his kidnapping had lessened but never completely disappeared. Now just an annoying pressure, he habitually massaged his forehead in a physical context to push out the recurring demons inside his mind. The horrific dreams had lessened in intensity and vividness over the last week. They still haunted him, though, lingering guilt and terror at what he had been manipulated to accomplish.
Ordered to kill his closest friend! He actually aimed his revolver toward his mentor – his kaikua'ana - big brother!
Despite the outward show of stability, most days he felt like mush when he remembered what he did. Steve had been completely supportive and empathetic. Of course! His boss knew what captivity, brainwashing and torture felt like! In some ways the understanding was hard to comprehend or accept. How could Steve forgive Dan for trying to shoot him?
Williams had not found a way to forgive himself. To come to grips with his weakness and betrayal, the nearness of tragedy . . .
The shift and drop of the propeller plane jarred him as the chaotic, crashing elements slammed into the craft. Glancing out the small window of the craft he had no more than a few seconds to evaluate the situation. Sudden and extreme turbulence was the result of a squall now engulfing them. He remembered something the pilot said about rerouting their flight plan to avoid the storm . . .
In an instant a flash of light sparked against the wing! A fire flamed from the port engine! Panicked, the two other passengers behind him reacted with cries and fear. The lone flight attendant moved along the aisle to appease everyone.
As the jittery plane wobbled Dan turned and advised everyone to stay calm. Suggesting to the stewardess - a pretty local girl - to review emergency procedures with the others, the detective unsteadily moved forward to the flight station. The small plane had only a curtain between the cockpit and the main cabin. He knocked on the mental hull then stepped inside offering his credentials.
"What's our situation," he quietly asked, holding onto the doorframe as the plane buffeted. He noted the nose was tipped at a downward angle. "Not good," he commented mostly to himself.
Pilot and copilot were focused on their job - saving them! They did not alter their attention from the instruments.
"A big bunch of pilikia, bruddah. Two lightning strikes. Hit our port engine and nose." The Polynesian copilot was terse and harsh. "We sent a mayday. We're going down the hard way." He shot a glance to the officer. "You Five-0 guys come with water wings I hope."
"Kind of."
As an expert surfer and swimmer he hoped those skills would not be necessary now.
All his training in the Coast Guard, as an officer of the state police unit, had taught him various skills. He knew how to be cool under fire. He knew how to make quick decisions and instantly discern actions between life and death. When required, he could be tough and authoritative. After all he had learned from the best for most of those talents.
'I won't let you down, Steve.'
The weight of his responsibility as second-in-command of Hawaii Five-0 rarely left his shoulders. Beyond that was one of the top primary goals in his life for a decade and a half - make sure McGarrett never regretted recruiting him into the elite police force. Today he would have a chance to prove that. Again.
Adding to the pressure was the deep commitment to make up for the most recent emotional wounds to his friend. He nearly killed Steve! The abysmal grief, self-reproach, and remorse had not gone away. Even though Steve had increased his support and attention and forgiven him, the guilt remained. Dan wasn't going to die without somehow making it up to his friend! That made no sense at all in this crisis, but living up to Steve's example was always one of his highest motivations! He was not going to hurt - devastate - Steve by dying in an air accident!
He had to act! "What do you want me to do?"
The pilot gave a nod behind them. "Help Leilani. This is a pretty heavy glider but I hope to land us on the surface so we can pop out of here in one piece."
Already moving back, Williams balanced like a surfer and remained on his feet as the plane totteringly dropped. He worked with Leilani to maintain a steady, get-the-job-done front for the others. Finally taking a seat next to the stewardess they folded into crash positions.
Again, he gave credit to Steve's sometimes-harsh tutelage in the realm of controlling emotions. Dan wasn't nearly as good at it as his mentor, but he certainly learned a lot over the years of their ohana relationship.
Ohana. Their little police unit had lost Chin a few months back. They still mourned him. Dan refused his death to be another daunting, shattering blow to McGarrett.
'I will live through this. Promise, Steve.'
III
Coast Guard rescue helicopter number 1445 sped toward the coordinates of the plane's crash site. The swirling storm had swept away from the region and skies were errantly cloudy with residual, buffeting winds. Poised at the open bay door, McGarrett scanned the glistening ocean for signs of a plane. Of survivors. What he hoped to spot were several people in yellow lifejackets sitting atop a floating hull! When his imagination drifted to possibilities of wreckage and bodies on the waves, severely he shut down those thoughts.
Not far behind was a Coast Guard cutter racing to the same rendezvous.
A smudge on the distant starboard horizon snagged Steve's attention. Adjusting the binoculars he identified the anomaly as smoke. That was far off course from where they expected the plane! Was it possible the trajectory had shifted that distantly off course? Scanning ahead toward their original target area, a glimpse of metal reflecting sunlight!
"There!" he shouted.
The copilot's voice crackled over his headset, "Looks like our bird dead ahead!"
From the corner of his eye he saw the Coast Guard cutter zipping toward the plane. Focusing on any evidence of survivors, Steve's heart leapt when his hopes were confirmed. Several people in yellow lifejackets were on the wing of the plane! He trained on those figures until the welcome sight of familiar curly, sandy hair came into focus!
Danno!
The rotor's loud thumping registered on the passengers and crew. They turned and waved as the chopper closed to hover. Close now, Dan gave him a shaka sign and smile, recognizing his friend in the helicopter bay.
Laughing, McGarrett returned the shaka wave - literally translated to mean hang loose. The island greeting was never more appropriate than at this moment.
'Hold on, Danno. You're safe now.'
The Coast Guard cutter Pt. Bridger soon arrived to come alongside the sinking craft and prepared for the survivors to board. Balancing now in knee-deep ocean on the sinking metal, the passengers leapt into the arms of the Coast Guard. Motioning to the helo pilot, Williams gave the signal that he wanted to be hoisted up to the chopper. The pilot agreed. The other passengers boarded the ship. A pretty young woman in a flight attendant's uniform hugged and kissed Williams before she parted.
A harness was dropped to the Five-0 officer and he was hoisted up into the bay before the small plane disappeared to the depths of the sea.
McGarrett was waiting. As soon as his friend was out of the gear he engulfed the drenched officer with a blanket and a warm embrace.
"You made it Danno!"
"Yeah," the younger man sighed.
After the hours of agonized speculation the first statement was inane. What else could Steve say? Words didn't matter. He just held on and absorbed the miracle of his friend found and alive.
Fatigued, chilled, Williams eagerly accepted the encompassing security.
"Mahalo, Steve."
The older detective drew away only far enough to look his friend in the eyes. "What for?"
"Being here. Like you always are."
Patting his shoulder, McGarrett pulled him into a tighter embrace. "Always, Danno. Always."
The pilot and copilot waved and one of the crewmen gave Dan a headset. The captain informed they were diverting to check out the smoke the Five-0 chief sighted earlier. They suspect a boat on fire. CGC Pt. Bridger was following to assist.
Preferring they head back to Honolulu immediately to expedite Danno's recovery, Steve refrained from open dissention. His resting friend was literally within his grasp. Little else mattered for now.
"What in the heck is that?" the pilot exclaimed over the headset.
The startling comment drew Steve from his dark, morose thoughts of how this narrow escape was way too close!
Everyone in the cargo bay shifted to look out the open door. The incongruous sight was inexplicable. Initially it could be identified as an extraordinarily long, thatched hut. With smoke billowing out from the side. The fact that it was floating on the ocean far from shipping lanes, civilization and most notably land was the bizarre element!
"Those poor people!" Dan exclaimed.
Murmuring a concurrence, McGarrett studied the seven people waving from the railing of the hut/boat. He passed the binoculars to his officer while he assessed the abnormality.
The 'passengers' - for lack of a better term - were a mixed bag. Three women and one man were dressed in expensive if out of fashion apparel. One man in casual shirt and trousers. One overweight man with a captain's cap. In addition, one gangly man in a red shirt, excitedly waving his white sailor's hat.
"Weird," Dan slowly commented. "Did that float off of a beach?"
"How is it staying together?" the co-pilot wondered.
Dan chuckled. "It's not even legal!"
In excellent humor now that fear for his friend had been swept away by rescue, McGarrett smirked. "We'll let our Coastie friends give them a ticket. We're pau hana, aikane."
Lost and found. Some refugees from who-knew-where.
Lost and found. His friend from peril.
Lost and found. Him, from the oblivion of heartbreak.
The Coast Guard cutter was on scene so the helo pilot veered away toward Honolulu.
The strange encounter intrigued McGarett. He felt there was something about those people that almost triggered a memory. It was in the back of his mind. He couldn't quite grasp . . . . It didn't matter. His thoughts were still numb with relief following the anguish over the plane crash. With some distance and time he knew answers about these bold migrants would come to him. Right now he didn't care.
Williams leaned back against his boss and dozed. Steve watched the view of ocean, sky and eventually the welcoming site of Diamond Head as they neared Barbers Point. Back home. Safe and sound. He finally allowed himself a sigh of relief.
Lost and found.
IV
"I think we should drop by the hospital just to be safe."
Williams stood in a patch of light and reveled in the heat of the Hawaiian sun. Basking in the joy of rock-solid Island lava beneath his feet. In the staunch and sturdy big brother watching out for him. Leaning against the side of the black Mercury, he stared over the roof at his mentor.
"You are advocating a hospital visit? Doc would be incredulous!" he laughed. "I'm only a little banged up. Probably won't even bruise! I –"
"Yeah, I know, you've had worse on wipeouts on your board."
On the walk from the helipad to the sedan, Steve had interrogated ceaselessly. Was his neck okay? How was his back. No injuries?
Insisting he was fine Dan just wanted to go home and get into dry clothes! He had delivered a preliminary, verbal report to Mike Windsor about the incident. More red tape to follow, he was given a pass for the weekend. Monday morning he would be back at FAA HQ for a more detailed interview.
Steve's smile was wry. The steely blue eyes never lost their soberness; however they now reflected a teasing cant. "No hospital visit? Not even to check on that cute stewardess?"
Dan grinned knowingly and winked. "I already memorized her number."
"You're nothing if not consistent, Danno. Of course you got her number."
More serious the younger officer assured, "I'm fine, Steve. Really. Besides, you promised me a sail this weekend." He checked out the angle of the sun. "That little complication in the flight plan has put a wrinkle in your offer. It's too late over to hop over to Maui, huh?"
Obviously his friend wanted to get back to normal as quickly as possible. About to agree it was too late, Steve reevaluated. Maybe the late weekend sail would be just what they needed. Relax. Away from the phones and duties. Just talk. They hadn't done that for a while and that had been one of the motivations for Steve to get them out of the city for a few days. He was still having trouble adjusting to the horrors of Danno's kidnapping. He wanted to make sure his friend was all right for real. Maintaining their course seemed the best idea after all.
"You haven't had enough of the water for today?"
Williams' blue eyes sparkled as brightly as the surf and sky. "Never. I think I'm looking forward to it even more."
Nodding, Steve agreed, eager to return to the pattern of off-duty hours snatched whenever possible. A well-deserved and highly awaited, enjoyable day off with his friend. Today, after the near tragedy, he would savor the interlude even more than his earlier anticipation.
"I'll drop you off at home. Then gather our supplies and come back and pick you up. Maybe not Maui, but we'll think of something."
The proposal relaxed him. "Perfect. We'll get out on the water in time for a great view of the sunset."
V
"If this traffic jam is any indication we're going to really deserve this weekend!" Williams pretended to try not to laugh. The smirk gave him away.
'As if we didn't already deserve a getaway!' McGarrett did not retort aloud. His nerves were still rattled over the agonizing crash and miraculous rescue!
Transit around the Ala Wai Yacht Harbor was clogged. Although Steve had taken the less-traveled route along the Ala Wai Canal to get there, they still met with jammed cars before they reached the quay. Unusually heavy foot traffic of pedestrians heading for the docks further slowed progress.
Dan pointed toward the water. "Look, there's that crazy floating grass shack we saw out at sea. Something about it - can't put my finger on it."
The clarity came to McGarrett as deductions often solidified in his brain. Some called them investigative leaps. Danno liked to refer to them as sixth sense.
'You know my method. It is founded upon the observance of trifles. . . The affair seems absurdly trifling, and yet I dare call nothing trivial.'
Sherlock had in many instances the premise fit for modern day detection. Steve dubbed them as cop instinct.
Since spotting the seven people on the floating shack, he had known there was something familiar about them. The unimportant trivia - seemingly insignificant facts - he automatically corrected – finally came together. Given time and focus on some other matter (than Danno's dramatic morning!) the brain was able to allow the subconscious to seek out answers.
'To the great mind nothing is little . . . The little things are the most important.' Sherlock Holmes.
The answer had been suppressed by the anxiety over the fate of his officer. Then the relief almost as painful and equal in intensity and disturbance predominated his thoughts.
"Those seven people, Danno, represent one of Five-0's open cases."
"You can count those on one hand," Williams countered, thoughtful. His face brightened with recognition. "Mid-Sixties! Yeah, like – wow - years ago! I was still working undercover with HPD."
"Right. And Five-0 took this case."
With impressive recall, the chief related the circumstances. An important, rather shady businessman was found dead at the Ala Wai Harbor. Seven suspects. All had set sail for a three-hour tour and were never heard from again. Their boat, suspected of being lost in a tropical storm, ironically.
McGarrett proved – to his satisfaction – that it was an accidental death. However, with the unique mystery of all the people involved missing, the investigation had remained officially open. Since the boss felt confident in his conclusion he did not allow it to take up any more of his valuable time. Back then, he had his hands full running Five-0 in it's early years.
Aloud, McGarrett reviewed the case for his officer who was not yet a member of the elite state force then:
Victim - Randolph Blake.
Suspects and motives:
Ginger Grant, movie star, Blake had jilted her.
Professor Hinckley. Blake had stolen ideas his about protecting the Honu - Hawaiian turtle.
Millionaire Thurston Howell the Third accused Blake of misappropriating funds.
Mrs. Howell was also aboard the tour boat.
Mary Ann Summers - Blake swindled her father.
Captain Jonas Grumby and his mate Gilligan had no obvious motive but were placed at the scene of the crime at the time of Blake's death.
"All circumstantial," Dan assessed.
"Exactly."
The younger officer surrendered a chuckle. "Steve, I know that look. You're not going to rest until this is settled, are you?" he knowingly accused.
"Danno, do you mind if we postpone our sail for one more item of business?"
Nodding, he agreed. "Sure. You've been waiting a long time to close this case."
The remnants of the press celebration were yet visible. Banners proclaiming the survivors - dubbed Castaways - were still in place. News crews were gone, but curious tourists posed alongside the unlikely flotilla of huts to record the moment for posterity.
The Five-0 officers checked with the manager and security officer of the hotel. They ascertained the 'castaways' were indeed the seven missing people of interest.
Without delay the Five-0 officers were given quick access to the VIP floor where the guest suites for the new arrivals were located.
Feeling a little too casual to interview suspects - attired in an aloha shirt, shorts and deck shoes – still, Williams was eager to share in this interview. Firstly, because it would answer questions that would move this mystery from an open file to a solved case for the state police unit. Secondly, because he and Steve were both curious and amazed at how these people involved with the crime turned up again after all this time.
"The castaways are scheduled to return to the mainland tomorrow," the security chief told them as he escorted them to the last room on the top floor.
"That quickly," was Steve's neutral comment."
"Apparently losing fifteen-odd years leaves a lot of gaps!" the man returned.
As they strode out of the elevator to the open air guest lanai of the Hilton Hawaiian Village, Dan gave a low whistle. "VIP treatment for sure!"
McGarrett chuckled. "Lost at sea for this long has turned them into celebrities."
The hotel representative ushered them out to the lanai where the seven new arrivals enjoyed the wonderful view of a perfect Hawaiian dusk over Waikiki.
Introductions complete, Dan again felt a bit self-conscious being dressed casually on semi-official business. Steve, attired in his long-sleeve red, tan and teal, aloha shirt was unfazed by the out-of-his-usual-suit-uniform.
All of the castaways were thrilled to be back in civilization. They constructed their ungainly vessel from their huts. For all this time they used materials native to their deserted island to survive. Six of them unabashedly credited Professor Hinckley with the ingenuity, brains and skill building various contraptions to keep them alive.
"Well everyone pitched in," he humbly told them.
Although they never stopped trying to escape their remote isle or attract rescued, they admitted that they enjoyed years of unadulterated paradise. No smog or traffic. With a pointed look to the law enforcement officers - no crime – on their hideaway. Relative luxury in their living conditions. Looking back, all those positives were much appreciated.
"And us seven strangers, through isolation and enforced teamwork, became treasured family," Mary Ann concluded.
Ohana.
Dan and Steve exchanged knowing glances. They completely understand about incomparable ohana.
Captain Grumby was the only one to show wariness. "Hawaii Five-0."
"I didn't do it!" Gilligan confessed.
"Do what?" the Skipper asked him.
"Anything! It's always my fault for doing something! I started the fire on our boat. But if I hadn't the Coast Guard wouldn't have seen us! But whatever happened now I didn't do it! I haven't been here long enough to mess up!"
Grumby hit him over the head with his cap, then said to the officers," I hope this is just a courtesy call from the state police," he nervously joked.
Flirty, Ginger Grant introduced herself to the chief, then to Williams in her throaty, sexy voice. "Police have certainly gone native," she breathed, fingering the lapel on Dan's Aloha shirt.
McGarrett revealed, "We're here to solve a fourteen year old case."
He summarized the events from the night before the SS Minnow set sail. The castaways were well aware of Blake found dead at the Ala Wai Harbor. They occasionally received news from the Islands on the radio and heard they were suspects.
"We didn't kill him!" Gilligan, the first mate squeaked.
The actress, Ginger, stopped making flirty-eyes with Williams long enough to seductively murmur to the top cop, "Blake wasn't worth murdering. He was a cad."
Those sentiments were echoed by all; Mary Ann, Professor Hinckley, the Howells, Grumby and finally Gilligan. Despite the danger of speaking out against a possible guilty verdict, none of the castaways diluted their negative opinions of the dead man.
Not wishing to make this anymore tedious on either group, McGarrett got on with his resolution. "You're not suspects. We would like your statements for the record. At some point. Obviously you have more pressing matters to attend to first. The bottom line is we know Blake was not murdered. You are not suspects. He was killed when a faulty spear gun accidentally fired and hit him."
Rounds of cheers and congratulatory hugs and handshakes coursed among the castaways.
"We knew that," Mr. Howell told them, the first to regain his regal composure. "We reasoned it out on our own."
"Blake was despicable," Mary Ann told them. "We knew we weren't guilty. Thanks for solving the case."
"You're free to carry on with your lives. After you've settled in Los Angeles an officer will be in touch."
Feeling like an intruder on an ohana gathering, McGarrett made a hasty farewell. He would get HPD to make appointments for phone interviews with these people.
As he and his friend walked tandem toward the elevator, Steve pushed aside poignant thoughts. These castaways had formed a lasting ohana for all these years. Dependent on each other for survival and sanity. He so understood all of those concepts and emotions! Now they were turning a new page. They would go back to what they left behind. In doing so, abandoning their family.
The feelings were too close to what he had been through lately. Losing Chin. Danno's capture. Nearly losing his friend today. To him, ohana was everything. Fiercely protective and loyal, he could never abandon, release, say aloha, to another brother.
VI
Because of the lateness of the day, the officers altered the longer-distance sail to Maui and stayed off Oahu. They settled on a breezy cruise along the windward coast. The Puuhonua - Steve's literal 'place of refuge' sailboat– anchored off Chinaman's Hat Island where they enjoyed a spectacular view of the sunset. Rays from the huge orange ball of the sun splashed across the cerulean sea and mauve sky.
Docked at a quay in Haleiwa for the night, they strolled the streets of the surf town. Instead of a meal prepared on the boat they went to dinner at a local fish café on the beach. They ended the night with a treat of shave ice, then made their way back to the dock.
A local art fair was scheduled in the park for Sunday. McGarrett looked forward to that. Then they would rerun to Honolulu in the afternoon, then end their altered weekend. Sailing from Oahu's North Shore in the afternoon.
"We'll be back in town and prepping for another work week. Those castaways will be hit with the culture shock tsunami of Los Angeles!" Dan laughed. "I'll take my reality any day!" He took a sip of his beer, stretching his feet on the deck of the boat. Gazing up at the star-filled sky, he sighed with contentment. "I wouldn't want to be stranded like they were for fourteen years!"
"No way!" was the wholehearted agreement.
Chuckling, Dan joked Steve wouldn't last a day marooned on an island. "You'd go nuts!"
Not that amused, the boss agreed he would hate it. "I like my island just fine."
Turning serious, he stared into the face of his mentor. "Mahalo, Steve. Not just for a fantastic sail in paradise. I couldn't have gotten –"
"Danno you don't have to –"
"Steve!"
The older man acquiesced with a nod.
"Mahalo, Steve. For believing in me and – and always – always being here for me. No matter what I do – well, you never give up on me. Not after I tried –"
"Danno!" Steve refused to accept that he was ever in any danger from the brainwashed younger officer.
"Okay. For – for everything. Up to and including today."
Quietly, Dan explained the crash was not the stereotypical intense moment of imminent death were life flashed before his eyes. He was filled with determination not to give up and disappoint Steve. After the latest danger he couldn't let his friend down again. He hated that Steve was so worried about him today - these last few weeks. He recommitted now to make it all up to Steve. That he had to be an asset not an anxiety to his friend.
"I was so glad to see that chopper today. I wasn't really that worried, cause we came out of the crash all right. Still – mahalo for coming after me."
Reaching over to pat Williams' shoulder, Steve cleared away the knot of emotion in his throat. He didn't want to revisit those terrifying moments in the abyss of the unknown – when he had no idea if Danno survived.
The castaways had been lost and found and turned into celebrities.
These treasured moments in paradise could be stolen from him at any time. History had proven that. Losing Chin. Nearly losing Danno.
Those castaways – did they know what they were sacrificing to be found and returned to civilization?
Tucked away in a tropical paradise with ohana. That's what McGarrett prized most in his life.
Danno had been lost and found and quietly rescued.
Rescuing Steve.
Now they were back where they belonged.
Lost and found.
PAU