Nick Stevens braked his Mercedes to a stop at the side of the entrance gate to the coffee plantation. Moments later, a delivery truck packed with bags of coffee beans exited the plantation, heading for the roastery in Honolulu. The Stevens family had been producing coffee for decades, and had owned a roastery in the city for the last fifteen years.

His father was thrilled that Nick had shown an interest in the plantation over the last year.

Nick smiled at the irony.

His father honestly thought that Nick was going to take over the family business and make his living from growing coffee. He'd be disappointed to find out, one day, that Nick's only interest was in using the plantation to run his side business.

Which was far more lucrative than coffee.

As the truck slowly headed away from the plantation, Nick drove through the gate and parked near the closest barn. He sighed at the thought of feigning interest in the daily business of the plantation, but consoled himself with the reminder that keeping the plantation on a secure footing gave him a cover for everything else he wanted to achieve.

He eased himself from the car, locked the doors and pocketed the keys, then headed into the barn to find the plantation foreman.

An hour later, he stepped back outside in relief, knowing that business discussions were over for this week.

The afternoon was slowly fading into the long twilight that would precede true nightfall, and the air was cooling slightly at last. It would be dark in another hour and a half, maybe sooner. His shirt was stuck to his back and he wished for nothing more than a cold beer.

But that would have to wait a while longer. He nodded to the foreman, who headed back into the barn. He caught the eyes of a number of the foreman's crew, long enough for them to know that he was watching them. They all officially worked for his father, as part of the plantation labour force, but they also earned another pay packet on the side from his operation. His weekly visits to the plantation were a reminder not to make that information public.

When each man had dipped his head in acknowledgement of his control, he started a slow walk along the front fence of the property, following a route that would eventually lead him towards the far barns high on the slope above the main property entrance. The foreman had grown used to him walking the property by now, no doubt considering it a personal quirk, and no longer offered to walk with him.

Five minutes later, he saw a movement ahead of him and paused as the figure came along the fence-line towards him. Average height, black hair, worn jeans, a dirty t-shirt, dusty work boots. Before he'd even managed a good look at the man's face, he recognised Donald, one of Seb's crew.

He risked a glance behind himself, and saw that the foreman and his workers were all milling around the doors to the barn, and weren't even looking in his direction.

"Donald." He kept his voice low, waiting for the man to come to a stop a few feet from him.

"Mr. Stevens." Donald was always suitably deferential, which Nick appreciated, even though he was fairly sure that the respect wasn't sincere.

"I assume you have a reason for meeting me here?" The question was bland, but he could see the other man flinch at the cold undertone.

"Seb told me to fetch you." The words were suddenly wary, and Nick smiled at the fear he could sense coming off the man.

You only had to discipline one person for the rest to fall in line. And it wasn't that long since he'd had to put Larry in his place. His final resting place. The thought brought a smile to his face, and he saw Donald flinch when he asked, "What's gone wrong?"

"I don't know." Donald swallowed audibly, then rushed all the words out as quickly as he could. "There was this guy sneaking around earlier, around midday. Seb took care of him, but then this other guy showed up, and I took care of him–"

"You did what?" Nick's tone filled with icy rage.

"I just knocked him out." Donald answered, words halting. "Seb told me to leave everything to him and come wait for you. Tell you he needs to speak to you." Donald took a step back, and Nick watched him, staring until the man started shifting anxiously on the spot.

"He's at the barn?" The words were half a question and half a statement.

Donald nodded and Nick flicked a hand at him.

"Get back to work."

Donald backed away another two steps, then turned and left as fast as he could without actually running away.

Nick watched him go, chuckling quietly at the terror he'd seen on the man's face.

Respect was all well and good, but fear was a much better motivator. He enjoyed being feared.

Nick turned back to his original walking course, not wanting to deviate from the practices of the last year – changes would be noted by the foreman, who was already entirely too curious about what Seb and Donald did in the upper barns.

Nick mulled that thought over for a moment, considering options, and finally deciding to leave the foreman alive for now. After all, Seb had assured him that the man didn't actually know anything incriminating at the moment, although he did tend to ask too many questions.

If things changed – if the foreman learned something he shouldn't, or stuck his nose into places it didn't belong … well, accidents happened on plantations every day. People fell, equipment malfunctioned, brakes failed. It would be a tragedy, but life would go on.

Ten minutes later, Nick started up the slope towards the barn, expecting to see Seb waiting at the doors for him. But the man was nowhere in sight. Seb knew better than to disappear.

A momentary chill raced down his spine, and he almost hesitated. But he hadn't succeeded in life by being cautious, and there was no point in starting now.

And if the situation deteriorated … he could always provide Larry with some company.

MPI-MPI-MPI

Magnum's fingers slipped off the joiner and slammed into the wooden slats behind him. He swore softly, and Katsumoto turned a worried look on the investigator.

"You okay?" He kept the murmur barely loud enough to hear.

"Yeah." Magnum sighed. "Bet I've made my knuckles bleed, though."

Katsumoto shook his head slightly, giving his friend a searching once over. Magnum was hunched slightly to one side, no doubt protecting the rib Katsumoto was sure he'd heard crack earlier, when their captor had kicked Magnum in the side.

Katsumoto hoped that Magnum only had one broken rib, but he worried that it could be more. He remembered that case with the FBI agent clearly, even though it had happened a year ago, along with the fact that Magnum had broken three ribs when he was hit by a car. Katsumoto could still remember walking into the ER and finding Magnum there, seeing the pain in the Magnum's eyes when the nurse had wrapped his ribs.

He could see that same pain on Magnum's face now. He was certain that the investigator would simply deny the truth, which was why he knew better than to ask just how bad the injury was. Over the last year, he'd somehow come to consider the man a friend, and seeing him in pain bothered him far more than he was willing to admit.

Then there was the fact that Magnum was keeping his eyes closed most of the time, suggesting that he had a killer headache as well. As far as that went, Katsumoto knew exactly how the other man felt, as his own head was still aching from being knocked out earlier.

Yet Magnum wanted him to believe that skinned knuckles were the biggest problem he had at the moment. Katsumoto rolled his eyes, even though the action made his own headache worse.

He was still angry that Magnum had goaded their captor into attacking him, even though the investigator had actually had a solid reason for his actions. Surely, there had to have been a better way for Magnum to get the information he wanted than to invite someone to hurt him.

Katsumoto thought back to a conversation he and Higgins had shared after Hannah had appeared the first time, and tied it to the conversation he'd had with Magnum at the Diamond Head lookout just a few weeks earlier. The conclusion wasn't promising.

In spite of the progress they'd all made in getting Magnum to see that he wasn't alone, and could ask for help, the man clearly still believed that he should offer himself up to save everyone around him. Whether they needed saving, or not.

Katsumoto sighed quietly, and rolled his eyes at his own naïvety in believing that one conversation would be enough to make an impact on someone as stubborn as Magnum. Even if that stubbornness had saved lives when he and his friends had been taken captive by the Taliban.

Taliban.

Katsumoto's mind seized on that single word, just as it did every time he thought about what Magnum and his friends had survived. He'd learned a little about Magnum's history from things the man had said in the time since Katsumoto had met him.

But Katsumoto had also tried to do his own research, especially after watching Magnum with Amanda Sato. Seeing the recording of the press conference which had taken place after Magnum and his friends had escaped their captivity had also spurred his efforts. All four of the men had seemed far too healthy for men who'd been prisoners for eighteen months, and his curiosity had driven him to see what other details he could find.

Only he'd found very little. Every question he'd asked had been deflected, every trail he'd followed had run into a wall. He'd managed to get a few details, here and there, but he'd learned far more from what his contacts had refused to tell him. The look in their eyes when they'd said that they didn't know anything had spoken volumes. The doctor he'd eventually managed to track down in Germany had simply stared at him, eyes deliberately blank, then abruptly ended the video call. When he'd tried to call again, the call had been declined.

Whatever had happened had been very bad, most likely worse than he could imagine. Even though his imagination was quite colourful and detailed, well-supplied by the evils he saw every day in his job.

He wasn't sure he'd have been able to come out of something like that – whatever it was that Magnum and his friends had survived – nearly as well-adjusted as these three men seemed to be. Although the cracks in the happy façades were there to see, if you just knew where to look.

And maybe the fact that he now knew where to look, and what to look for, should tell him more about his relationship – friendship – than anything Magnum actually said to him.

He put his attention pack on the metal joiner, feeling Magnum's fingers join his again. They'd been trying to get the piece to turn for a full five minutes now, and the thing was still stubbornly motionless.

But they had no other options right now, so he was just going to keep trying and hope that perseverance would pay off.

He rolled his head to the side, seeing that Magnum had opened his eyes again, and was staring directly at Katsumoto. The questions were so obvious that Katsumoto wasn't even surprised when the other man spoke, making sure to keep the words quiet.

"What are you doing here? Why wouldn't you answer our calls?"

Katsumoto stared at Magnum, considering where to begin. Then he had to take a breath and reconsider everything when Magnum spoke again.

"And why the hell are you really suspended? Anyone who knows you, knows that you won't tamper with evidence." The investigator snorted quietly, obviously amused at the thought.

"Thank you for that." Katsumoto filled the words with sarcasm, but he was sure he hadn't done a good enough job of hiding his relief that there was someone out there who didn't believe the charges.

"I could ask you what you're doing here, you know." Katsumoto turned the question back on Magnum, only to feel stunned shock fill his face when he heard the answer.

"Looking for you, of course." The tone suggested that the question was not only unnecessary, but quite possibly the dumbest thing Katsumoto had ever said.

"Of course?" He couldn't help the question, even though it earned him a resigned eyeroll from the other man.

"You weren't answering our calls. There's that trumped-up investigation against you. And you're out here in the middle of nowhere." Magnum laid out the facts in a straightforward tone, coming to what he clearly considered to be an obvious conclusion. "So, of course I came looking for you."

Katsumoto couldn't fight the grin that crept onto his face. He shook his head in amusement, the smile growing wider when Magnum admitted that he'd had to get Higgins to ping Katsumoto's phone first.

"Still can't manage that on your own?"

"Of course I can, but Higgins likes to be useful."

Katsumoto had to bite his lip hard at that comment, knowing that the last thing he wanted to do was laugh out loud and draw their captor's attention back to them.

He twisted his fingers around the joiner again, feeling something start to give slightly at last. He let his fingers work on the joiner and put his thoughts in order.

"Okay, from the beginning." He shifted against the wall and started to talk quietly.

"About a week ago, I got a phone call from a guy I know. An informant, but not an official one. He's not on the books anywhere."

"Okay." Magnum nodded.

"He told me that there's some sort of smuggling operation going on. But he was really short on details. He was sure that whatever's being smuggled is being taken off the island by boat, but he doesn't know which one or even which pier."

"Helpful." Magnum's mutter was snide.

"True." Katsumoto chuckled. "But he was sure that there's a link to a business inland, something agricultural. He showed me a photo on his phone, a logo that he'd seen on one of the crates."

"A logo?"

"Yeah. I wasn't sure why it looked so familiar, but I was sure I'd seen it before." Katsumoto carried on. "Then that afternoon, one of the guys came back into the precinct carrying a bag of coffee beans – and there's a logo on the bag."

Magnum stared at him, raising one eyebrow.

"I know, I know. Weird coincidence, but there it is. The same logo." Katsumoto had thought it odd at the time, too. "So I figured that wherever those coffee beans came from, was the place I needed to visit. I did a bit of digging on Friday afternoon, and found the address for this place. Drove up here on Monday morning, had a chat with the foreman. Asked some questions, had a quick look around the place."

"And?" Magnum's curiosity was clear in that one word.

"And nothing." Katsumoto twisted his fingers again, sure now that the metal joiner was starting to move. "Until I drove around the property, and found a back road leading to a very odd-looking fence."

"You mean the double one." Magnum nodded. "Yeah, there's something really fishy about that."

Katsumoto supposed he shouldn't have been surprised that the other man knew all about the double fence. After all, he'd left his car parked near the fence, and Magnum had already admitted to getting Higgins to ping Katsumoto's phone.

"You noticed that too." Katsumoto agreed.

"Yeah, along with the fact that the lock on the gate isn't at all rusted. Unlike the outer fence." Magnum sounded faintly smug and Katsumoto let him have his moment of satisfaction.

"There was that." The detective agreed. "So I went back to the precinct, did a bit more digging into the company and the family that owns it. I figured it might be worth looking into it a bit more."

"Then things got more suspicious. Tuesday morning, I got a phone call." Katsumoto flinched slightly at the remembered panic that call had caused.

"There was no caller ID, but I get a lot of calls from people who'd rather not be traced."

"Informants. Witnesses." Magnum nodded.

"This wasn't one of those. The voice was probably a man, but whoever it was used one of those synthesiser apps. He told me …" Katsumoto took a deep breath, determined to keep his voice steady. "He told me which school Dennis attends. He told me that Dennis was at the Pearl Harbour Memorial with the rest of his class. He even told me that Dennis had a bandage on his left arm."

"Did he?" The concern and understanding in those two words were almost enough to break Katsumoto's hold on his emotions. The fear and the anger were both trying to run wild, and Katsumoto shoved them down deep and ignored them.

"Yeah, he did." Katsumoto nodded. "Dennis and I spent Saturday afternoon together. We went to this skateboard park he likes, so he could show me the tricks he's learning. But Dennis came off his board. He needed four stitches in his arm."

Katsumoto looked up to meet Magnum's eyes, shocked to see the rage there.

"And then the guy on the phone he asked me if I knew how easy it was to make someone disappear in broad daylight."

"He threatened a kid. Your kid." Magnum's voice turned cold, and for just one second, Katsumoto got a glimpse of how the man had become a SEAL, and how he'd survived eighteen months of hell. "Why didn't you call me?"

MPI-MPI-MPI

Katsumoto stared at Magnum for a moment, eyes wide, and it was obvious to Magnum that his friend didn't know how to answer the question. He was about to push the other man for an answer when Katsumoto carried on talking.

"I … I just …" The words petered out, then Katsumoto shook his head slightly and looked away. "Never mind that right now. Do you want to hear the rest of it, or not?"

Magnum tipped his head to one side and waited, letting Katsumoto think he'd forgotten his question.

"Not even an hour later, Internal Affairs showed up at my desk. They accused me of evidence tampering, showed me a log I'd supposedly signed. Then they marched me into the Lieutenant's office, made me hand in my badge and gun."

"Let me guess." Magnum interrupted, forcing the anger out of his voice. "Then they escorted you out of the building and told you not to leave town."

"Something like that." Katsumoto agreed, meeting Magnum's eyes for the first time since mentioning Internal Affairs and what he'd been accused of doing.

Magnum could see the pain there, the fear that people Katsumoto knew and worked with would believe what they'd heard. Grapevines were terribly unforgiving sources of news.

"I really want to be there when they have to withdraw those charges and apologise." Magnum was looking forward to watching the officers who'd humiliated his friend get taken down a few pegs.

Katsumoto stayed silent for a long moment, then spoke.

"Don't you want to ask?"

"What for?" Magnum was confident. "I know you didn't do it. The guys know, Higgins knows. If IA doesn't find the truth, we will."

"Thanks." Gordon actually sounded emotional, and Magnum let the moment slide.

"So, anyway, I figured the threats and the IA investigation had to tie into me coming here and asking questions. Someone had to be pulling strings to make me leave this place alone. So coming here again and finding out who, maybe getting some evidence, was the best thing to do."

"Didn't work out so well?" Magnum asked.

"No. I spotted one guy hanging around this barn, and managed to get past him. But that one at the door, I didn't see him coming. So now, here I am."

Magnum let the rest of Katsumoto's story sink in, turning things over in his head and putting pieces together. He couldn't fault Katsumoto's logic, but he wasn't altogether happy with the other man's actions.

"You still haven't answered my question, Gordy. Why didn't you call me? Or any of us?"

"I couldn't be sure who was watching me, or how they were tracking me." Katsumoto shifted slightly, and Magnum could feel how their combined efforts were finally getting the metal joiner to start turning. "I didn't want to drag anyone else into this, endanger anyone but me."

Magnum let his head fall back against the wall and sighed deeply.

"You all talk about me being stubborn and not asking for help. Maybe I need to drag you back to Diamond Head and have another talk with you. Help you remember that there's a bunch of people more than willing to help you."

"I'm not stubborn." Katsumoto looked offended at the thought. "It wasn't – and isn't – your problem. Or your fight."

"Neither were Hannah, or Ian Pryce." Magnum's unhappiness at Katsumoto's choice leached into his voice, before his words took on a more determined tone. "But that didn't stop you helping us, no matter what you actually said."

Katsumoto said nothing, the stunned expression on his face more than enough to let Magnum know that the man was at least thinking about what he'd just heard.

"You feel that?" Magnum hissed, excitement building.

"Yeah. It's moving freely now." Katsumoto agreed.

They both put all their attention into shifting the joiner, trying not to make any obvious noise. A sudden shift in the pipe had Magnum slamming his hand hard against the wooden wall again, and he could feel he'd scraped more skin off his knuckles.

But the minor pain that caused was drowned out in a rush of adrenaline at the realisation that the two ends of the pipe were now separated. He eased his hands slowly towards Katsumoto, keeping a tight grip on the chain so as not to make any sound to alert the man at the door.

Seconds later, he felt the chain slip free from the pipe. He moved more quickly now, searching for the chain on Katsumoto's shackles and slipping it off the pipe as well. But the speed allowed the chain to swing too quickly, chiming as it clipped the pipe.

Magnum and Katsumoto both froze instantly, shifting back against the wall to hide the work they'd done on the pipe.

The guy outside the door appeared almost immediately, eyes boring suspiciously into them. He advanced halfway across the floor, hand resting on the gun tucked into his waistband. Then slowly he turned around and headed back to his position outside the doors.

Magnum sighed in relief and let himself sag back against the wall, but the sharp stab of pain in his side had him hissing and straightening up almost at once.

He stretched his hands apart, estimating the chain between the two shackles to be about a foot long. Not great, but probably workable for what he had in mind. Although he wasn't looking forward to it, because it was really going to hurt.

"Did you ever actually find out what's going on?" He let his eyes drift over to the crates piled on the floor. "Any idea what's being smuggled in there?"

"Coral." Katsumoto's answer had Magnum confused.

"Coral? Why would anyone smuggle coral?"

"It's black coral." Katsumoto said. "It's quite rare. Used in jewellery and sculpture. And it's worth quite a lot of money."

"Seriously?"

"Over $300 000 per ton. All trade is tightly controlled, and there's an export limit per year. You need a permit to export any black coral."

"Which I'm guessing this company doesn't have." Magnum was putting the pieces together quickly now, and realised that Gordon had stumbled into the middle of a lucrative illegal business, and the owner had no plans to let anyone stand in his way.

"Not that I can find." Katsumoto confirmed.

"Then there isn't one." If Katsumoto had looked and found nothing, then there was nothing to find. Of that, Magnum was sure.

"You're the only one who'd figured out what this is all about. And now we're the only ones who know what's going on." The words were more a statement than a question, but Katsumoto answered it anyway.

"Yeah, we are." Katsumoto agreed, eyes sombre. "Which means this isn't going to end well for either of us."

MPI-MPI-MPI