Thank you again to everyone who is reading, alerting, or, especially, reviewing this story. I apologize because this chapter is super long but I really wanted to get to Steve's part.
Disclaimer: I, of course, do not own these characters.
Patrick Page, decorated former Marine turned politician, spent a moment watching the crowd disperse. Yesterday he had been the Lt. Governor; today he had just taken the oath of the highest elected official in Hawaii. The sun had only been up for an hour, but Page already felt like he had been in motion for an entire day.
Pat Jameson was dead. It still felt surreal. They had not been close friends but he had always admired her intelligence and political savvy. They had worked well together. He would miss her.
"Governor Page," he looked over at the aide waiting respectfully for his attention and nodded, "The daily briefing is waiting in your office."
"Is there anything urgent in it?" Page asked as he left the conference room and headed back to his temporary office.
"There is one item," the young man paused, looking uncomfortable, "A major gang of drug runners is moving a shipment through Honolulu. HPD has a tip it will go down in the next few days."
Page stopped walking. His staff was currently an amalgamation of his own people and Jameson's. He thought the aide's name was Tim, but he wasn't certain. There were too many things he wasn't certain about right now. "What would Governor Jameson have done? Let HPD handle it, or called in the Feds for assistance?"
Tim's eyes were huge and the color had drained from his face. He looked like he might actually faint. With his military background, Page had no patience for this kind of thing.
"Spit it out," he commanded.
"She would have turned it over to Five-0."
Page nodded. He didn't know Lieutenant Commander McGarrett personally but he knew of his exemplary military service. He was still having a hard time wrapping his head around the idea that McGarrett had murdered two women. Still, the facts spoke for themselves.
That still left the question of what to do about the drug runners. Page felt confident that he had the answer to that, "Please have Lt. Crosby from HPD come to my office immediately."
Darren Crosby had served under page in the Corp. Page had even helped him get his job with HPD. He was a good man.
Jameson had been on to something when she formed the Five-0. The surge in her approval ratings and the drop in crime proved it. Unfortunately, she had put her faith in the wrong person. Page wouldn't make that mistake. His taskforce wouldn't have rookies or tainted former officers. It would have solid, decorated veteran police officers that he and Crosby would choose themselves. And it would start proving itself immediately, with this drug case.
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Chin struggled to keep his face from revealing to the younger officers around him how tired and frustrated he was. He was operating on only 3 hours of sleep on the couch in his office. He had already personally been over every inch of Governor Jameson's office this morning. The only thing he had found that was even slightly unusual were several partially empty drawers. The instincts he had developed during his years of detective work told Chin that there were things missing from those drawers. Instinct wasn't going to be nearly enough to help Steve.
The second Chin declared the office cleared, an army of cleaners rushed in, intent on getting the office ready for the new Governor. He watched, unconcerned, as they started gathering trash. Chin had been through the cans and knew there was nothing useful there. For a moment, he wished life could be like TV, where the villain left some key piece of evidence in the trash can for the good guys to find.
Then Chin had a thought, "Kukua, Baker, let's check the dumpsters on our way out."
"Sure thing, Lieutenant."
The three men headed down the stairs, towards the back of the building where the dumpsters sat. They ran into a young female officer in the back hallway. Her eyes sparked with excitement.
"Have you heard the news?" she asked.
"What's going on?" Kukua wanted to know.
"Darren Crosby is meeting with the new Governor right now," she lowered her voice, like she letting them in on a secret, "He's going to head Page's new taskforce, the new Five-0."
Chin tried not to react but he must have made some small sound because the other three suddenly all staring at him. The young women seemed to realize who he was and hurried away. Chin's officers both shifted uncertainly, not sure if they should say something or not. Chin waved off their concern and pushed his way through the doors into the back alley.
Three typical open top dumpsters where lined up against the wall. All three were fairly full. Chin guessed a truck would be by to empty them soon.
"What are we looking for?" Baker seemed skeptical that there was anything to find here.
Chin approached the first dumpster, "Just give me a minute."
The top layers were a combination of garbage bags and loose trash, typical office refuse like papers, junk mail, and coffee grounds.
In the second dumpster, Chin found 4 large, light bags on top. All four were stuffed with shredded papers. Based on their position on the very top and the fact that nothing had crushed them yet, he was willing to bet that they had only recently been thrown out. So someone had done a large amount of shredding either very late the previous day or sometime during the night.
"This is what we're looking for," Chin told his men, "We need to get these bags back to the lab immediately so they can get started reconstructing the documents."
"That's going to be very time consuming," Baker pointed out, "You caught McGarrett standing over the Governor with the gun in his hand. Do we really need to work this hard to make the case?"
Chin was tired enough that he let Baker distract him and he failed to register the sound of the motorcycle coming up fast from behind him. It was only the look of surprise on Baker's face that alerted him to the fact that something was wrong. Acting purely on instinct, Chin threw himself up against the alley wall. He wasn't quite fast enough to avoid the bike entirely. The handle bar caught his arm and flung his hard onto the grimy ground.
Through a pain-filled haze, Chin watched the rider throw a firebomb into the middle dumpster. It ignited instantly, filling the alley with acrid black smoke. The street bike rider sped off without waiting to see the results of his handiwork.
Baker, who had been further off to the side, safely out of the way, hurried to Chin's side, "Lieutenant are you okay?" He urged Chin to his feet, "We need to get away from the fire."
Chin pulled roughly away from him, "We need to save those bags!" He tried to reach the dumpster but the heat was too intense.
Baker grabbed his uninjured arm, "It's too late. There's nothing to save." He dragged Chin back inside the building, out of the thick smoke.
Chin was despondent. His arm was throbbing but the pain seemed unimportant. He had been so close to finding something important – the attack in the alley proved it – and now it was gone.
"Are you guys alright?" Kukura asked, "I called for back-up and the fire department. They should be here in a minute."
"We're fine," Baker regarded the other man suspiciously, "Where did you go?"
"I had already grabbed the bags, so I brought them in here to keep them safe," he gestured to the four bags of paper shred.
Chin regarded Officer Ben Kakua with new respect and gratitude, "That's excellent work. Thank you."
Chin eyed the two younger men for a moment. Kakua had saved the evidence. Baker had failed to warn Chin about the motorcycle, had failed to do anything to stop the attacker, and had done nothing to save the bags.
He didn't know either officer well but he made a decision, "Baker, take the scene here. The biker had on a full body suit and helmet, but try surrounding surveillance cameras and see if you find anything useful. I want to personally see any footage you find. Kakua, bring those bags and come with me."
Kakua gathered up the bags of evidence and hurried after him, "Lieutenant, shouldn't you wait for the ambulance and have your arm checked out?"
Chin glanced down. His sleeve was torn and spotted with a little bit of blood. It hurt but he was able to move it and the bleeding seemed to have stopped. "I don't have time right now."
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Kono threw herself down on her couch and pounded on the cushions in a display of anger and frustration. She had arrived home in the very early hours of the morning to find copies; both paper and digital, of every scrap of evidence Jenna Kaye had accumulated against Wo Fat. A very brief note told Kono that it was some sort of twisted good-bye-and-good-luck present.
She wanted to scream. She wanted to smash something. How could Jenna leave now when Steve desperately needed her help? (When I desperately need her help?)
Kono stubbornly refused to consider her own situation. Once Steve was cleared, her problems would work themselves out. (Except that Steve is innocent and I really did take that money.) It would be tragically karmic if they cleared Steve of everything else and then the two of them went to jail for stealing for the asset forfeiture locker. Kono had absolutely no doubts that Steve would never let her go down for that alone.
She bounced off the couch and began to pace her tiny living room. She knew that she was too wound up to sleep. Kono was a former athlete and she thrived on action. She had to DO something.
May be she could catch up with Jenna at her hotel before she left. Convince her to stay and help them fight Wo Fat. Mind made up, Kono grabbed her car keys and headed out the door.
Forty-five minutes later, Kono sat slumped in the cruz's driver's seat as the sun finished rising in the review mirror. She was parked in front of Jenna's hotel. The very nice woman at the front desk had told her that Jenna had checked out and left in a cab almost an hour ago. Jenna had given the impression that she had a very early flight off the island.
Even if Kono could get to the airport in time, she wouldn't be able to get to the gate. She had tried calling Jenna's cell phone several times, but it went directly to voicemail each time.
Kono was exhausted, stressed, scared, and probably not thinking clearly. She still felt driven by the need to do something. If Jenna was beyond reach, maybe she could make sure that there was no incriminating evidence at Steve's house.
It was still early. Chin and the team from HPD wouldn't be there for hours yet. Plenty of time for her to slip in and out. HPD would be watching from the street but Kono had jogged with Steve enough times to know the beach paths that would allow her to sneak in. Satisfied with this new plan, she turned the key in the ignition.
Sneaking into Steve's house turned out to be even easier than Kono had imagined. She thought that she knew the alarm code but Steve had not even bothered to set it before leaving for the Governor's mansion. Picking the lock on the back door was cake – she'd been practicing.
Standing in Steve's living room, Kono was suddenly overwhelmed by the events of the past 24 hours. The house was neat but lived in. Everything felt like Steve had expected to be back shortly. Now he might never be back at all . . .
She was pulled away from her black thoughts by the vibration of her cell phone.
"Do you trust Charlie Fong?" Chin asked urgently when she hit the accept button.
"What? Why?" Kono's tired mind had trouble processing the unexpected question.
"I think that I may have found something important, but Wo Fat's people have already tried to destroy it. I need someone we can trust to work on it."
"Take it to Charlie," Kono instructed him, "He's good and I trust him."
Chin must have heard something off in her voice, "Are you alright, Kono?"
She made the decision not to tell him where she was. No reason to upset him more than necessary, and her other news was definitely upsetting, "Jenna' gone."
"Gone?" Now it was Chin's turn to not comprehend.
"She left us all the evidence and got on a plane back to D.C." The bitterness and betrayal Kono felt colored her voice.
"We'll figure it out," Chin reassured her, "I need to get this evidence to the lab right away. We'll meet tonight and make a new plan of attack."
"Side Street at 7:00?" Kono suggested.
"I'll let Danny know, "Chin paused, "Try to get some rest, Cuz, you sound tired."
"I will," she promised before hanging up.
Kono knew that she needed to look for the Champ box and then get out. The couch looked inviting. She just wanted to sit down for a minute and think, but once she sat Kono's lack of sleep finally caught up with her.
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Danny stared at his computer screen and resisted the urge to tear his hair out. He knew how to track financial data but it wasn't his greatest strength. He functioned better out in the field, interacting with real human beings instead of numbers on a spreadsheet, but he had already learned what would happen if he tried.
The first thing he had done when he arrived that morning was attempt to see Steve. A very polite young police officer had informed him that only the approved detectives were allowed to interrogate McGarrett.
Danny had then been firmly escorted to this desk, sitting forlornly by itself in the back of the bullpen, and told to work on the files his Lieutenant had assigned to him. Since Chin was his Lieutenant, that at least wasn't a problem.
Before getting to work, Danny decided to pull up the interrogation logs and see just who had been talking to Steve. The answer: no one. He had been sitting in a holding cell without being questioned for 7 hours. That was insane. Steve was accused of murdering the Governor. There should have been all kinds of top brass demanding a confession. Something was very off about this but Danny couldn't for the life of him figure out what it was.
Resolving to keep an eye on the situation, Danny had gotten to work trying to locate and follow the 10 million dollars. Since it was highly unlikely that Pat Jameson had that kind of money just lying around, she had to get it from someone. Danny was certain that Wo Fat did have that kind of money but he was equally certain Wo Fat wouldn't have allowed a direct connect between himself and Jameson, so the money had to pass through other hands.
One person known to be connected to both Pat Jameson and Wo Fat, who also had access to millions of dollars, was Hiro Noshimuri. Since Five-0 had arrested him for his role in the kidnapping of Mary Ann McGarrett, which was still an open case, his financial records were already fair game. Unfortunately, once Noshimuri had made bale he had promptly claimed his brother's body and skipped the country with the excuse that he was taking his brother home to Japan for burial. Extradition hearings were still pending.
Danny had just started to dig in when the call came over the scanner that Chin and his men had been attacked in the alley behind the Palace. Without thinking, he had jumped up, prepared to head out and provide back-up. He had been headed off by a Captain, who had pointedly reminded him of the meaning of desk duty and watched him all the way back to his desk.
A few minutes later, Chin sent him a text message saying that he was taking evidence over to the lab. It was driving Danny crazy not knowing what kind of evidence, but he didn't have enough privacy to call Chin and ask.
After working the numbers a little more, Danny realized this line of investigation was going to require copious amounts of coffee. He thought mournfully of the gourmet coffee maker at Five-0 HQ as he sought out some of the swill that passed for coffee at HPD.
A group of detectives were gathered in the break room, clearly excited about something. Danny was prepared to ignore them but they had other ideas.
"Hey, Williams," one of the men called out, "Who do you think Crosby will pick?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," Danny made sure to keep both his face and his tone pleasant as he got his coffee. It was clear these guys wanted some kind of reaction and Danny was determined not to give it to them.
"Darren Crosby is the new head of the Five-0. He needs to pick good people for his taskforce," the faint emphasis on 'good' was unmistakable.
Danny was stunned. The new Governor was already setting up his own taskforce? And he had stolen the name from Steve's father. He realized that the smirking detectives around him were still waiting for a response but he wasn't up to it. Danny grabbed his coffee and fled back to his desk.
He was sitting alone, cursing himself for giving them the satisfaction of seeing how upset he was, when Sgt. Duke Lukela approached him. Danny was wary, half expecting more ridicule.
"Williams, I thought you might want to know that McGarrett is being transferred to Hawala Prison."
Danny's head snapped up, "Transferred? When? He hasn't even been questioned yet. He hasn't met with his attorney. Who authorized it?"
Duke shrugged, "All I know is that they're taking him out the back door right now."
Danny was on his feet and running.
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The door in front of him was opened and Steve was shoved roughly out into the bright early afternoon sun. It hurt his eyes after the harsh artificial light in his cell. Of course, the fact that one eye was swollen partially shut only added to the pain.
Steve exchanged glares with Officer Turner, the man responsible for the black eye. Turner himself sported a split lip from Steve's head butt.
Steve had actually been a cooperative prisoner. He knew that being combative would not help his cause. He needed to be patient and let the rest of his team help him.
Turner had been trying to start something with him all night. As a trained Navy SEAL, it was easy for Steve to ignore him. But when Turner actually entered his cell and started shoving him into the bars, Steve had unleashed some of the anger he felt at how easily he had fallen into Wo Fat's trap. Other officers had broken it up quickly.
After that, Steve had been left alone for hours. He had expected to be taken into interrogation but no one ever came. He had even tried to request an attorney (and Danny thought he knew nothing about Miranda rights) but he had been ignored.
Now he was being transferred to Halawa? Steve knew something was very wrong. He hadn't been questioned. He hadn't been allowed an attorney. He shouldn't be transferred until after he had been given a bail hearing.
Standing just outside police headquarters, Steve took a deep breath and settled into SEAL mode. He knew that to clear his name, he needed to work within the system, but too many things about this situation didn't add up. Right now, he felt that to survive he needed to escape. The fact that his hands were cuffed behind his back was not the deterrent that HPD thought it was.
Just before Steve could make his move, Danny came running out another set of doors a little further down the building.
"What the hell is going on here?" the blond detective demanded.
Turner stepped forward to block Danny from reaching his partner, "This is none of your business, Williams. Go back inside."
"None of my business?" Danny shouted, arms pin wheeling, "Who authorized this transfer? There is nothing regulation about any of this!"
The crowd of other police officers who had followed Danny outside to see what was going on now looked at Turner for an explanation. Even the officers flanking Steve shifted uncomfortably. They knew something was going on.
"I have all the paperwork right here," Turner announced, waving the folder in his hand.
Duke stepped forward and took it, flipping through it carefully, "It's signed by the Chief. Everything's in order."
Turner smirked triumphantly and took the folder back. "Put the prisoner in the back of my car," he instructed the officers with Steve, brushing roughly past Danny.
There were three squad cars lined up in the street. Steve was pushed towards the lead car. He cursed silently. He had waited too long and now there were too many people around for him to escape. He looked over and met Danny's eyes, unable to shake the feeling that this would be the last time he would see his friend.
"No," Danny protested, stepping forward, "Did you do that to his eye?" he demanded of Turner, gesturing towards to Steve's face.
"And he did this to my lip," Turner pointed to his own face.
"I did," Steve confirmed, somewhat proudly.
Danny gave Steve a glare that clearly said it was not his turn to talk. "You shouldn't be transporting him. You've got three cars going. Put him in the middle one. That makes more sense anyway."
Turner looked like he wanted to argue, but his desire to get away from the crowd of onlookers was stronger, "Fine," he bit out, "put him in the middle car."
It wasn't much of a victory, but if the only thing Danny could do was keep Steve way from a bully who wanted to use him as a punching bag, then that was what Danny would do. He felt helpless as he watched Steve being loaded in the squad car for the trip to Halawa. He fully intended to race over to the prison himself to ensure that Steve was not put in with the general population.
Once Turner was satisfied that Steve was properly secured, he got into his own car, turned the ignition, and was engulfed in a huge orange fireball.
The force of the explosion knocked Danny back into the wall and momentarily took his breath away. Shaking his head to clear the spots from his vision, Danny quickly took stock of the scene before him.
The car with Turner and his partner was completely destroyed, much like Laura Hill's car had been. The force of the explosion had flipped the second car into the third and shoved them both back to where they now sat in a tangled heap of twisted metal.
Steve was somewhere in that twisted metal, Danny thought as he raced over to find his partner. The back window had been blown out of Steve's car and the former SEAL was hanging limply half in and half out of the vehicle. He was unconscious, his face covered in blood from several lacerations. With his hands cuffed behind him, there had been no way for Steve to protect his head.
Hand shaking, Danny pressed his fingers to Steve's neck, searching for a pulse. He found it, faint but steady. Steve's breathing was also steady. Giving him a visual once over as best he could, Danny didn't see any grotesquely twisted limbs or alarming pools of blood.
He could already hear ambulance sirens approaching. "Hang on, Steve," he pleaded. Beneath his fingers, Steve pulse was getting weaker and more erratic. "Please don't give up."
If I could do scenes for the next chapter, you'd see Steve surrounded by frantic doctors; Kono being startled awake by someone off camera; Chin confronting the Chief of Police; Danny turning to Toast for help.