Disclaimer: Why is it that I'm always busiest when normal people get time off?

Handling Hawaii

A look of annoyed disbelief appeared on the detective's face. "What do you mean I should expect a house guest?"

"Mr. Masters has given you the use of his guest house with the express understanding that it would, from time to time, be required for one of Mr. Masters' guests."

"But Higgins-"

"But nothing, Magnum," the other man interrupted. "The sooner you understand that you have no choice in the matter, the better off you'll be."

"Come on, Higgins"

"I'm told he's a rather voracious eater," the Brit continued, ignoring the other man. "You will, of course, be compensated for the increase in groceries so long as you keep proper receipts and records."

"Higgins!"

"Good day, Magnum," the man spun on his heal and began marching away.

"What if I can find someone better?" Magnum asked desperately.

Higgins paused.

"If I can find someone better, there won't be any need for you to bring in your 'voracious eater' from the mainland."

"Magnum," Higgins turned around with an expression of profound amusement on his face. "If you can find someone better, I'll see that they are put up in the best hotel on the island, I'll look the other way the next few times you . . . well, do what you do, and I shall grant you full access to both the Ferrari and the estate for the next year."

"Deal!"

"However." Higgins' smile deepened. "If you cannot, I will expect you to act as a guide for Mr. Masters' guest for the duration of his stay."

"Fine," Magnum agreed quickly.

Fifteen minutes later, the detective was meeting with one of his better contacts.

"Rick, I need a favor."

"Oh no, the last time you asked me for a favor, I ended up in woman's clothing having to sweet talk a group of businessmen from the mainland. Not happening, Magnum."

"This won't be like last time, Rick, I promise."

"They put their hands everywhere, Magnum," the smaller man said firmly. "Everywhere."

"All I want is information. I don't need you to do anything else."

"Just information?

"That's all, Rick, I promise."

"What kind of information?"

"I need a dog-handler. Best one you can find."

"Why?"

"Higgins has one flying in to help with 'the Lads' and I made a deal with him. If I can find a better one, not only will I get to avoid having a roommate for who knows how long, but I'll also get a bit more flexibility with things like the Ferrari."

"Alright, Magnum," Rick agreed. "But nothing else."

"Nothing else," the detective agreed.

"I mean it!" Rick's voice raised. "And you owe me."

"Trust me."

"Wait here," Rick sighed, "I gotta go make some calls."

It didn't take long for the former Marine to return, his expression transformed from annoyed to smug.

"Whatta you got for me, Rick?"

"Best handler on the island works for the customs service. Guy named Mike Takano, sounded him out and he says he might be able to come down for evenings and weekends if you make it worth his while."

"I don't need the best on the island, Rick, I need the best period."

"Thought you might say that. In that case, forget finding the best handler in the country. What you want is a legend."

"I'm liking where this is going, Rick."

"Norville Rogers. Scout dogs in Vietnam, Combat Tracker Team, highly decorated, attached to someone for something when he was officially recovering from wounds received in an action that got him nominated for The Medal. Considered by many to be the best handler to have put on any uniform at any time ever. Dropped out of sight when he got back from the war, did some detective work, professional race car driver for a bit, and then . . . poof, gone."

"Gone where?"

"Talk to your contacts on base. Mine don't know what happened to him, most figure he got snatched up by another outfit that doesn't exist."

"Thanks, Rick, I owe you one." Magnum walked out of the bar, into the nearest payphone, and fed the machine quarter. "Hello, Mac? I need a favor . . . No, nothing big . . . since when have I ever lied to you?" The detective asked, sounding hurt. "Aside from all those times, yes . . . I need you to get me in contact with an ex-army guy, dog handler named Norville Rogers . . . great, I'll meet you at the King Kamehameha Club, get the goods and I'll get you the juiciest steak on the island . . . yes," the detective agreed sounding annoyed. "All you can drink too."

To Magnum's surprise, his friend arrived at the club in less than an hour.

"Guess you really wanted that steak," he greeted his friend with a wide smile.

"Private room, Magnum," Lieutenant MacReynolds said, sounding more than a bit angry.

"What's going on, Mac?"

"Now!"

"Alright, alright, calm down." Magnum motioned for his friend to follow him.

MacReynolds waited until the door was shut before speaking again. "Just what in the hell have you gotten yourself into, Magnum?"

"What do you mean, Mac? I'm just trying to find a handler."

"I made a call, guy I know in the army. He made a call."

"Yeah?"

"He calls me back ten seconds later and tells me he doesn't know me, that he's never heard of me, and that I should forget his number. Five minutes later the admiral gets a call from CINC PAC who wants to know what the hell I'm doing and why."

"I need a dog-handler, I heard he was the best."

"Why?"

"To win a bet, Mac."

"Don't play with me, magnum," MacReynolds demanded.

"I'm not," Magnum replied. With a sigh of resignation, the detective explained what he was looking for and why. "Sorry, Mac, I didn't know I'd be kicking over this kind of ant hill."

"Christ." Mac rubbed his eyes. "Norville Rogers is the guy the alphabet agencies go to when they need anything that might even have a little bit to do with dogs. Lotta rumors about him, not sure how many are true."

"Like what?"

"You heard about that Special Forces guy, went nuts in Oregon?"

"Yeah," Magnum agreed.

"They send the state police after him, they activate the national guard, everyone they can find. No luck. General shows up, he sends one man into the woods."

"Norville Rogers," Magnum said.

"You ever have anything to do with Colonel Phuoc Nguyen?"

"A bit," Magnum agreed.

"You hear he got out? Has a farm on the mainland?"

"No."

"Well, he was being hassled by a group of wannabe toughs."

"Not the best target they could have chosen," Magnum muttered.

"True," Mac agreed. "Well, he doesn't get around so good so apparently he pulled some strings."

"Yeah?"

"All I know is that the Sheriff had Rogers along when they started tracking the guys that were trying to push Colonel Phuoc Nguyen off his land. Few days later, the morgue was full, the Sheriff broke the biggest case the county had ever seen, and Norville Rogers drifts out of town like he'd never been there." Mac rubbed his face. "What I do know, least what I think I know, is that he's done work for us, but you mostly have to go through . . ." Mac pursed his lips. "You know who I'm talking about if I say the 'ANV,' right?"

"He's back in uniform?"

"Contractor, I think. Just about everything I know, I gathered from the dress down I got from the Admiral. He ordered me to talk to you and to find out what you were up to."

"I'll back off, Mac," Magnum promised. "Tell the Admiral that I wasn't trying to step on any toes."

"Accidents happen, Magnum," Mac sighed. "I still get that steak?"

"I think you've earned it."

IIIIIIIIII

Magnum eyed the hippy in the front sitting room with an expression of mild distaste. He didn't have anything against the man personally, live and let live was his motto, what he had a problem with was what the man represented. An encroachment on his living space.

"Like, thanks, Higgins," the man 'Shaggy' said with a dumb grin. "That was the best anchovy, papaya, mango, tuna, spam, and mayonnaise salad we've ever had."

"Rah," the man's dog agreed.

"I trust your man will be here soon, Magnum?"

"He'll be here," Magnum promised. "You'll love 'im, Mike Takano, works for the Customs Service. Graduated top of his class, was in the army for a spell before that. One of the top two or three guys in the nation." Magnum grinned when he heard a car pull up. "That must be him now."

A heavily built guy in a blue Hawaiian shirt stormed into the room and seemed to freeze three steps into the room.

"I don't know what got into him, Magnum," Rick said, trailing behind. "He floored it the second I told him the guy he was going against was named Shaggy. Think he has warrants?"

"No," Magnum said, a horrified thought making its way through his mind. "I think-"

"It is you," Takano whispered. "I don't know if you remember me, sir, but you gave a talk at the academy."

"Yeah," the hippy agreed happily. "I've heard good things about you."

"Higgins, don't tell me."

"Permit you to reintroduce our guest," Higgins said with a smirk. "Norville Rodgers, formerly of your armed forces, but he prefers to be referred to by his nickname."

"Shaggy," Magnum finished with a sigh.

AN: Another abbreviated chapter of my dropped idea to have 'The Dog-Handler' wander though 70's and 80's pop culture. The A-Team, numerous crime dramas, and god knows what else may eventually get their own little slices of the Handler pie.