ANGELS WATCHING OVER ME
December 24, 1969
A little breathlessly, Dan Williams rushed into the Hawaii Five-0 offices. No one seemed to notice his tardiness, or his urgency. Everything was business as usual and as he closed the big koa door behind him, he paused to take a settling-gulp of air before proceeding into the large common room of the police unit. Okay, no one seemed aware of his little escapade.
Against his tight schedule and unbeknownst to anyone, he had stolen a few extra minutes to go shopping after some investigative work. It would just not do for the youngest detective to break protocol. Even though he had been a member of the staff and the second-in-command of the unit for a few years, he still felt like he was the new kid on the block sometimes. Coming in late because he was shopping - if that was discovered it would certainly create a few teasing remarks from the rest of the crew.
It was Christmas Eve and typically, he had not finished buying all the presents. One in particular. It was a short list since only his friends here at the office exchanged gifts. No current girlfriend, so there was no expense there. He always seemed to gat a late start. December was a bit of a poignant time for him - he celebrated his birthday the day after the anniversary of his parent's death - so this month was a time of remembrance and reflection as well as the typical merriment of the season. Most years the weeks between December 7th and the 24th seemed to fly past!
Aunt Clara was spending Christmas with friends in London this year and Danny couldn't get away long enough to travel half way around the world to join her. He had sent a nice broach pin for her to open tomorrow. Thankfully, his Kulani ohana sponsored a massive holiday luau where the only gift expected was a contribution to the food supplies.
Slipping into his office, he pulled a small, wrapped box out of his pocket and stared at the brightly patterned wrapping of gold angels on a background of bold red. He still wasn't sure this was right for Steve, but, well, he had run out of time. Everyone else was so much easier to buy for - but Steve - well - he always waited for the last minute on his boss and mentor because there was very little McGarrett seemed to need that was purchasable.
His ohana here at Five-0 were the initial and simple focus to buy for. His Little League team - easy tradition - he treated them to ice cream after their last practice before vacation. Jenny, she was simple - a nice bouquet of tropical flowers and jewellery like the silver hibiscus bracelet he found this year. Chin - usually a family oriented gift, like tickets to Sea Life Park for all ten of them, (he got a group discount on that fortunately). Kono was easy too this year. His girlfriend worked at the Hilton's luau and five meal tickets for that show would keep his friend happy for a few weeks.
That left Steve McGarrett, always last because Dan spent any extra time trying to find just the right gift. The boss, the best friendho: he had more money than all of them, lived a spartan life of comfort without frills, drove a company car, and seemed to have everything he needed in life when working eighteen-hour days and most of those at the office. Dan felt a little triumphant at the cool gift he had acquired this year. Working within the restraints of a tight budget and the restrictions of McGarrett's lifestyle and tastes, presents taxed his creativity. Especially when Steve had become his closest friend over the few years they had been working together. For that reason the gift needed to be something – well as special as his aikane!
The big door to Steve's office opened and slammed in a rush of noise and energy. Before the luna nui – big boss - appeared at his doorway he stashed the little angel covered box into his jacket pocket again. Just in time, he covertly sighed as Steve swivelled partway into his office, his hand anchored to the frame.
"Good, you're back. Got a call that Harry Quon's old pal Tomo is organizing a little extortion ring."
"Tiny Tomo," Dan snickered, amused at the nickname that was opposite of the criminal's massive physical build. "Never took him for the leader type."
"I don't think he is," McGarrett countered with a wide grin that hinted at more malevolence than mirth. "That's how we're going to bring him down."
"The bigger they are -"
"The harder they fall," the boss chuckled slapping his hand on the wooden doorframe.
Williams caught the dismayed expression on Jenny Sherman's face. New to Five-0 – moving over from Governor Jameson's staff. Her first Christmas here in a newly adopted ohana. May Peterson, their former Executive Secretary, had dished to Jenny on pertinent scoops of office life. Including the dreaded holiday season of 1968.
Last year December had been a disaster! Steve had been shot! Nearly killed! Danny overwhelmed with first, fear his friend would die! Then agonizing with tracking down the assassin, while Steve precariously clung to life! Tested and grilled by the governor and AG Stuart, drained from anxiety for his mentor, exhausted from non-stop work, it was a horrible time! The greatest Christmas present of all time, though, was that Steve recovered!
A subdued Christmas celebration at McGarrett's apartment had been Williams bringing over food and presents from the staff+ohana. Then it had been back to the Palace for work. Steve's birthday at the end of the month had been a bit better – a low-key surprise party at the office with the boss on the clock part-time.
This year Jenny had put valiant effort into the annual event that he had been attending for several years even before he had been an official member of the unit. She worked hard to make her first celebration memorable. As their office manager/exec secretary and all-around adhesive that ran the tight ohana of Five-0 she had everything scheduled.
"We'll be back soon," Steve flung over his shoulder as a parting confidence that they would make it back in time.
Giving the secretary a shrug and crossed fingers, Danny raced after his boss.
Her expression lightened slightly - hope tempered with experience and the reality of McGarrett and the importance of their work at Five-0.
There was little room here for personal time or emotional expressions, but she strove to supply the busy detectives with both. Rewarding her with a successful office Christmas party was the least Williams -they - could do if possible.
Tomo Kukala was a small-time hood that was an extra-large pain for law enforcement - in keeping with his size. Weighing in at well over 350 pounds, Tomo ran a small ring of thieves out of his dingy offices over a Hawaiian cafe off River Street. Always too slick to be caught red-handed, Tomo managed to scrape out a comfortable living bullying others into doing his dirty work.
The price for finking on the big man had never been paid out. Who would squeal on an angry Hawaiian three times larger than normal? Now that he was trying to cash in on his old boss's criminal activities by reinstituting extortion in the small neighborhood, he had tripped up. Local merchants were not afraid of him - not like they had been of Quon. Several witnesses had ratted on Tomo and McGarrett was going to put him away for a long time.
Arriving at the run-down FRESH POI CAFE, Williams doubted anything had been fresh in the joint since Statehood. Sun-faded Santa Claus figures stuck to the window with masking tape were ludicrous. As they stepped in, McGarrett, in the lead, wrinkled his nose and shot Williams a look that spoke volumes: what did we get into this time - what a dive!
The big, unshaven man at the counter eyed the officers immediately with heavy suspicion. Not Tomo since this guy probably only tipped the scales at 280lbs. Several customers looked like they fit right in here along with the grime that was clearly visible on the counter. Abstractly, Dan wondered if any unsuspecting innocent had ever wandered in here for a meal! Yikes, he shivered! If so, they were dead from food poisoning by now.
Garish, faded garland (now a lime green and pink instead of red and green) ringed the bar. Specks of – something? - melted into the counter. Maybe crumbs from around the time of the Pearl Harbor attack? It went well with the cracked Formica furnishings.
"McGarrett," the boss announced in a crisp, clear, unmistakably sharp tone.
Unnecessarily, the badge flashed and Dan almost smiled at the habitual formality. Everyone here knew they were cops and undoubtedly IDed the head of Five-0. McGarrett was famous to most Hawaiians, the majority of casual visitors to Hawaii, and infamous to the low-lifes who dwelled in the netherworlds of backwaters like this.
"We're looking for Tomo." The counter-man opened his mouth, but the chief forestalled excuses. "I know he's here. Tell him I want to see him. Now." Again, the man seemed about to engage in some response - in slow motion/Hawaiian-time according to Steve-standard-time which was instant! "Never mind," he snapped and strode toward the bamboo curtains hanging in a back doorway. "Danno."
Williams was right at his heels, but warily eyeing the customers they passed. The hostility in the air was palpable.
Dean Martin singing ANGELS WE HAVE HEARD ON HIGH blared from the cracked plastic radio on a shelf by the cash register.
Right about now Dan felt they could use a few angels in their corner. The thought of the two of them confronting Tomo and his disreputable pals was not comforting.
Without warning, McGarrett stumbled backward into Williams. Almost losing his balance, Dan caught himself on a bench seat and nearly fell into the booth from the force.
Tomo lunged through the curtains. McGarrett regained his footing just in time to duck from a massive swing of a huge fist gripping a frying pan. Whatever food items had been in the pan splattered in their faces and Dan had the impression of the smell and taste of chow mein before he noted the cast iron weapon coming back around from the other direction.
In the eternity/split-second of imminent disaster, Dan watched it all unfolding before his eyes in a visual and mental slow motion that belayed the speed of real time:
Still off balance, McGarrett was wiping noodles, vegetables, and sauce from his eyes, while dodging to the right, instinctively ducking for the next assault. From Dan's angle, he knew it would not be enough. Shifting his momentum ahead, he was able to collide with McGarrett's shoulder and take them both down in the narrow aisle, sliding into the small opening between the counter and the kitchen area.
The clumsy save managed the added bonus of knocking Tomo off his feet. Big man and frying pan flipped to the floor with a mighty crash! The cast iron skillet bouncing with a deadly thud not more than a few inches from McGarrett.
Blinking furiously, Steve scrambled to his knees and grabbed Tomo's right arm, while Dan, still awkwardly sliding on his side, wrestling with noodles and sauce, threw himself over Tomo's prone body. The big man groggily shook his head and McGarrett ferociously twisted back the captive arm.
Breathlessly, Williams wrestled to get his cuffs on the wrist he had within his grasp, while keeping an eye on the rest of the cafe. The customers had scattered at some point in the melee, but the guy behind the counter was eyeing them, as if still deciding if he should help out his employer or not.
"Don't make this any harder, Tomo," McGarrett warned dangerously in a low growl, fighting to catch his breath.
I'LL BE HOME FOR CHRISTMAS played in the background, the lilting voice of Frank Sinatra drifting over the combatants with the eerie displacement of a distorted holiday play gone mad.
Dan hoped the big guy heeded the warning because the cuffs were too small for the massive wrists! Tomo was onto the deficiency also and with a rumbling growl exploded up from the floor like an eruption of Kilauea! Toppling the officers, Tomo lumbered to his knees and elbowed Williams in the chest, knocking the air from his lungs. Unable to call out a warning, he couldn't stop Tomo from turning on McGarrett! The boss tried to push himself up, but slipped on the noodles.
Tomo grabbed a stool from the floor and ripped it away from the ancient linoleum. Wielding it like a club, he advanced on the groggy chief of Five-0.
With no time to think, only act, Williams grabbed a bowl of saimin that he just noticed - miraculously untouched - sitting on the floor. Throwing the noodle soup into the face of the assailant, Tomo gasped, momentarily distracted. Then Dan threw himself onto Tomo's back, wrapping his arm around the Hawaiian's thick neck.
It was a tough chokehold since his size was about half of his opponent's and his arm hardly long enough to circle the Hawaiian's neck. Seemingly, with strength beyond his own, he hung on and rode out the angry attempts to throw him off. Enraged, Tomo swung around the small space like a demented elephant trying to disengage an annoying rat stuck on his skin.
They crashed into walls, booths and the bar stools - Dan barely hanging on as Tomo scratched at his legs and arms. Then Tomo fell back onto the counter, trapping the squashed detective. Seconds later, as Dan's vision began to fold to grey, a revolver barrel pressed to the side of Tomo's head.
"Let him go or I'll pull this trigger," McGarrett warned, his voice raw with danger. "This is your only warning."
The beefy hands were raised and Tomo rolled to the side. A gasping Dan released his grip on the massive neck and came to his knees. McGarrett tore some wire garland from the counter and used that to bind the suspect.
"All I was going to do was bring you in for extortion, you lolo kanaka," McGarrett snapped as he leaned against the trussed criminal. "Now you're going down for assault on police officers!" Over the back of the mighty Hawaiian, he gave his officer a tired, yet satisfied grin. "You okay?"
"Yeah.
McGarrett nodded with relief, and then gestured to their prize. "Help me get him out to the car."
"Won't we need a crane?"
Williams grabbed one arm and they heaved up the gargantuan. Tomo hooked his foot on a bench and went down on his knees. Both officers nearly landing atop the mountainous obstruction. Dragging their burden only a few booths along, they stopped, breathing with difficulty from the exerted battle. Stepping on the prisoner's ample back, McGarrett, holding the revolver on the behemoth, ordered Dan to call for back up and request an HPD truck.
Accompanied by the strains of GOD REST YE MERRY GENTLEMEN Dan asked the bartender to call HPD for them. When he didn't move, Dan reached over and grabbed the phone, dialing while he kept a foot on the back of Tomo's knee.
Task done, he eyed McGarrett, relieved his boss was okay. Aside from some minor scrapes, general aches, and odorous, sticky, icky food, they came out of this pretty lucky.
Grateful for their escape from serious injury, Danny felt a chill roll across his shoulder blades. There had been a sense . . . something. In this trembling aftermath of violence and danger . . . an impression. Someone had helped him. Given him extra strength to bring down Tomo when McGarrett was in danger. Or provided a miraculous bowl of soup? However, glancing at the few patrons, Dan knew none of them had been any assistance at all. They had cleared away from any involvement in a tangle with police.
Three HPD patrolmen rushed into the cafe and Dan was happy to hand over custody of the huge Hawaiian. To the strains of HARK THE HERALD ANGELS SING, there was a group struggle to get the big guy out the door and into an HPD van.
In a last act of defiance Tomo wrestled two of the cops into the wall, and another flipped into a booth. He rammed into the doorway like a barrier. Two patrolmen from outside, two inside who had regained their footing, tried shoving him through. Dan wished for that mystic, added strength he had felt before. Lending their shoulders to the effort, Williams and McGarrett, managed to push Tomo's wide frame out to the sidewalk.
Glancing back, Dan was fatigued and irritated, as the patrons looked on with passive disgust - as if the police had disturbed their afternoon! "Mele Kalikimaka to you, too!" he called to them as the Bing Crosby version of MELE KALIKIMAKA came over the tinny radio.
Exhausted, smirking, Steve pushed his friend's shoulder. "Come on, Danno, let's get outta here."
Covertly stretching his arm to work out the sore muscles hurt in the fray at the cafe, McGarrett surveyed the surprisingly noisy office party. Usually, Five-0 Christmas bashes were quiet - a subdued exchange of presents, then everyone giving a toast with eggnog or other non-alcoholic drinks, and then dispersing for their own destinations. Chin to his family, Kono catching a flight to the Big Island where his relatives gathered every year. Danno to the airport if he was joining his Aunt, or to a quiet dinner with him (like last year) if Aunt Clara was not available until after the holidays. Or if one of them was recovering from injuries. Like last Yuletide.
This year, Kono brought his ukulele and was playing every carol he knew. HPD Sergeant Duke Lukela – part of the Five-0 ohana - and secretaries from other offices in the Palace, drifted in to join the fun. Always a little distanced from the festivities, McGarrett kept a quiet watch in the background. Trying to ignore the aches and pains from the rigorous afternoon, yet unable to forget the sequence of strange events unfolding in the FRESH POI CAFE.
Several times during the conflict with Tomo, it seemed McGarrett was about to be creamed by the huge Hawaiian. Yet, each time he escaped serious injury. Or felt an added surge of strength when Tomo's overt power threatened to overwhelm him. Or Danno was there with a save. Divine intervention? Luck? He thought that perhaps it was something more solid and predictable than either one of those otherworldly events.
"Steve, you want some of Chin's homemade cider?" Williams asked as he approached a cup in hand.
He and the youngest detective of the fold had cleaned up the worst of the grime from their battle in the cafe. Still, there were stains that smeared Williams' tan suit with brown spots and smudges. And there was a general air of teriyaki sauce emanating from the officer. McGarrett thought he had managed only slightly better because he had changed jackets, but Williams had no spare suits at the Palace. Rather than disappoint Jenny by wasting time on a trip home to change, Dan stayed in his dishevelled condition.
Taking the spiced, iced apple drink, Steve commented that Dan looked a little pale.
Williams admitted he was still a bit rocked by the narrow escape that afternoon. "You must have some powerful angels looking out for you, Steve. You're the luckiest cop I know. I was sure you were a goner there with Tomo, but there seems some kind of special power that shields you. I've seen it before, where you miraculously come out of a scrape. Today was, yeah, angels on your shoulder."
The younger man's expression darkened. Perhaps recalling last December when Steve had taken three bullets by from a maniac with a grudge. Miraculous save? Divine intervention? Somehow he had lived!
Trading glances, knowing – as usual – they were sharing the same dreaded memories - Dan quickly moved on. "This was different. You have an amakua. Personal god, he translated. Or guardian angel."
"Well, I agree I am the luckiest cop around. For many reasons, Danno. And I do have angels watching out for me." He clapped a hand on his friend's shoulder.
Grimacing at the grimy residue, both of them laughed. "You know what I mean," he sobered.
Pleased at the praise, he gave a quiet mahalo. "Speaking of angels," Dan smiled. "I have something for you."
He pulled a neatly wrapped box from his pocket, but closer inspection showed the ribbon torn, the bright paper ripped, the box smashed! Brownish spots, and a distinctive odor, suggested it had absorbed some of the chow mein sauce.
"Oh, no," Williams groaned. "Look what happened thanks to Tomo!" He shook his head and his face flushed with anger. "This was -" he shook it experimentally and was annoyed to hear a slight tinkling inside. "This WAS your present. Sorry. Guess the angels watch over you, but not potential gifts."
Intrigued with what might have been in the box, McGarrett was more disappointed for Dan's sake than his own. From Williams' reaction, it had been something special, and it was too bad he would never have whatever valued present was inside the damaged box. His young officer went to a lot of effort to impress him, obey him, please him. Christmas and birthdays had never been so celebrated until Williams entered his sphere!
Compensation, however, was already established, he felt. Many times over, in fact. His tremendous gifts this holiday season were multiple, and today's events only proved to reinforce his opinions about the bounteous good fortune.
From his Catholic education, he remembered stories of guardian angels and blessings of those who walked on the right path through life. He had fallen away from regular church association, but would never deny a strong belief in Deity. He saw it often in his work, but today seemed a little more substantial. Yes, he believed in angels still. He needed to, wanted to, and fortunately did not have to look far for evidence.
"Danno, you're right. I DO have angels watching over me. Just not the kind you're thinking about." He patted the younger officer on the shoulder. "I've got you watching over me."
His friend understood the compliment and actually tinged a bit in a blush. "Mahalo. I try, Steve, but you don't make it easy sometimes."
"I guess I don't. But mahalo to you, always, aikane, for being there for me. Mele Kalikimaka."
PAU