Three hours later, they were ready for the raid.
McGarrett had the warrants for both the church and the mission. HPD was suited up and ready to roll as soon as the SWAT teams and Special Operations were in place.
Compton and Marks walked into the controlled chaos of the Five-O offices, wondering why they had been summoned.
"You wanted to see us, sir?" Marks asked.
"Go to my house," McGarrett said. "Make sure no one comes or goes without checking with me first. Sgt Alden and Sgt Yablanski will be there. Don't let them leave and don't let them out of your sight. Stay with them until either Sgt Lukela or I get there. Got it?"
"Yes, sir," Compton said. "We'll keep the media out of the bushes."
Duke was shouting into his phone. "Do not argue with me about this, Susan Louise Yablanski! You go to Steve's house and you stay there until I come for you! I swear you are the most hard headed women I have ever met!" He snapped the phone closed and caught sight of the two HPD patrol officers. "What the hell are you two doing standing there? You've got your orders! Go!" He'd had about an hour of surf time when all hell had broken loose. After physical evidence had tied Roxie's murder to the holes in Maggie's brake lines he'd put his kids on a plane to his niece's place at Hilo on the Big Island with orders to stay there until the case was resolved. The kids would be safe on Hilo. Now all he had to do was convince one very stubborn women to stay put. He was in no mood to deal with slow responders.
"Yes, sir," they said together, wondering what was going down. Sgt Lukela seldom raised his voice to anyone, especially a female, and he had just yelled at a woman that both officers openly admitted to being terrified of. They got out of there while the getting was good.
McGarrett would have thought the whole conversation surreal if he hadn't just had a very similar one with Maggie.
"Duke, you and Kono have the church. Danno, Chin, and I have the mission. SWAT and Special Operations will be in place at 1445. We serve paper at 1500. We hit quiet and we hit quick. No lights, no sirens, and as little noise as possible. We don't know how many people are at either location so be ready for anything. That means vests and helmets. Let's go, and for God's sake, be careful."
Compton and Marks, in a very visible blue and white HPD squad car with the lights flashing were waiting by the driveway. After Lu parked her little red Nissan Sentra, Marks parked directly behind her.
"Look, Maggie," Lu said, a bit disgruntled. "Our babysitters are younger than we are."
Compton had been active duty during the Gulf War and had transferred to the Reserves afterward. Marks was National Guard. They were finding themselves in a quandary, stuck between their superiors at HPD and two very senior active duty female non-coms. It was shaping up to be a long night.
"Come on inside, you two," Maggie said. "Might as well get comfortable. You can help carry stuff in."
Lu popped the trunk. It was filled with shopping bags.
Marks turned to Compton. "I guess this beats getting shot at on a raid."
"Speak for yourself," Compton grumbled.
"Be nice," Maggie said. "I've got an idea. Let's call the Thompson's and we can have a hen party."
Compton looked like he might faint. "Sorry, Sergeant. We've got orders from both Mr. McGarrett and Sgt Lukela. No visitors and you are to stay inside."
"What's up with those two?" Lu asked. "They're both acting like a pair of mother hens."
"Can't say, ma'am." Marks said. "Let's get inside, please?"
After Maggie unlocked the door, Compton went in, gun drawn and checked all the rooms and closets, upstairs and down. Maggie and Lu just looked at each other.
Cops and robbers had gotten a little too real.
Murphy was angry. The sheriff's gig wasn't going as planned. People were expecting him to do things. They wanted drug dealers arrested and hookers off the street. When he had agreed to run for office, it was with the understanding that all he had to do was show up in a tailored uniform and make speeches while the real work was done by the deputies. All he had to do was listen to a few trusted advisers and watch his campaign coffers swell. There was a multi year plan in place. Serve four years as sheriff, help elect a new governor, then McGarrett's job would be his. He was looking forward to redecorating the office at Iolani Palace. All that Navy nonsense had to go.
Only it wasn't working out as he'd hoped. That damned Mick was everywhere. And if he wasn't tripping over McGarrett, that damned Hawaiian street cop was in the way. This was not what he had signed up for. He'd signed up to look good for the press and get his picture in the paper. That part was true enough. Earlier that month his picture had been all over the paper, usually next to a photograph of that red haired bitch, Dolly, the Rhodesian Ridgeback who had cracked the case of the Blue Moon Murders wide open with her wet, black nose.
No matter. He could read a script with the best of them, and what was politics but a strange play. He had his photographers and videographers standing by. His public information officer had been briefed. McGarrett and his crew were going down. He'd see to it. Act two was about to begin.
McGarrett checked his watch and surveyed the street. In ten minutes he would give the order to close down the block of Hotel Street that contained the mission. He had enough firepower at his command to take down a small country. The rooftops of the surrounding buildings were bristling with SWAT officers carrying automatic weapons. HPD riot police were standing by, just in case. He checked his watch again, 1445. Fifteen minutes to go. He was ready for anything.
Except stupidity.
"What the hell?" he asked as the first sirens sounded. He grabbed the rover unit from the nearest HPD officer. "Who the hell's got that siren on? Shut it down! NOW!"
The siren was coming closer, and there were more of them. Sheriff Murphy and four SUV's filled with deputies and photographers screeched to a halt in front of the mission.
From the radio, McGarrett heard Kono and Duke shouting at someone to turn the sirens off, although judging from the siren wails coming across the airwaves, they were being ignored.
Murphy strutted across the street to where McGarrett had set up the command post. "What's the meaning of this?" he demanded.
McGarrett was momentarily speechless. Danny and Chin quietly moved in behind him, if for no other reason than to keep him from killing the sheriff. Small bets were being placed between the assembled officers on how long it'd be before McGarrett decked Murphy.
"We were serving a warrant. You just tipped off everyone in that building to our presence. Now they've got time to destroy evidence and run. Have you lost your damned mind? Get the hell out of here and let the professionals do their jobs!"
"I am a professional!" Murphy shouted.
"No," McGarrett shouted back, catching the sheriff with a right hook to the jaw that put Murphy on his back in the middle of the street, "you're a pain in the ass! Chin, cuff him! I want him booked for interfering with a police investigation and obstruction of justice."
He got back on the rover. "Kono, Duke, hit 'em now. Any deputy sheriff gets in your way, arrest them!"
"Danno, you ready?" McGarrett asked, drawing his service revolver.
"Ready when you are," he said. It was bad enough he'd missed today's surf, now he was having to deal with Murphy and his posse.
"Let's go. Any of Murphy's people get in the way, arrest 'em, with extreme prejudice."
They ran across the street behind a phalanx of riot police with shields up and a battering ram that wasn't needed because the doors were already open. Police officers fanned out through the building.
"Good afternoon, Mr. McGarrett," the Reverend Leeds said, giving his best televangelist smile. He was a big man, standing just under six foot four with a stocky build and a headfull of carefully coiffed salt and pepper hair. "I trust you have a reason for this intrusion?"
McGarrett holstered his weapon and took the warrant from his jacket. He handed it to the reverend who glanced at it and passed it to the man standing next to him. McGarrett recognized him as the lawyer from Chicken's interview.
"It seems to be in order," the lawyer said. "Although it has a very broad scope. I see no reason for you to subpoena our books."
"Standard procedure when the bookkeeper meets with a bad end. You have one Roxanne Harris listed on your incorporation papers as your CFO and chief accountant."
"What do you mean, bad end?" asked the lawyer.
"You didn't know, did you," McGarrett said. "The lawyer's always the last to know. She was found floating off Wailupe Point this morning. She's dead."
"I shall pray for her soul," said the Reverend.
"Where's Big Chicken?" McGarrett demanded.
"Who?" asked the Reverend.
"He's gone, isn't he? Your buddy the sheriff gave him enough time to disappear, leaving you holding the bag. Danno, seal this Island. No one leaves without us knowing who they are and where they're going. Call the FFA and the Coast Guard. I want to know who's piloting anything flying or floating and put out an APB on Chicken. I suspect he flew the coop the second he heard the sirens. When you're done with that, book this charlatan for murder."
One of the officers brought him a bullhorn. He switched it on, smiling as he did. Later on Reverend Leeds would remark that he'd once watched a program on the nature channel where he'd seen a great white with the same predatory smile.
"Listen up, people. I want this place searched. Thoroughly. Basement to rooftop and I don't care how many holes you have to put in the walls to do it!"
McGarrett's cell phone rang. Duke was calling to tell him they'd found the church deserted.
"Not a person on the premises. It's like they abandoned ship when they heard the sirens."
"Search the place. Then seal it and put guards on it. No one else goes back in."
"You got it. We looking for anything specific?"
"Yeah, everything." He hung up.
Danny returned from stowing the reverend in a squad car. He heard a shout from one of the officers searching the basement followed by high pitched screams and ran down the stairs. Ten minutes later a pale and grim faced Danny came back up. "Steve, you need to see this." he said quietly.
Steve followed Danny down the stairs. "Sgt Kimora found 'em. He brushed against a wall and heard crying. He kicked through the sheetrock and this is what he found. Ambulances and child welfare are on the way."
Three girls of Asian descent huddled in the corner, bruised and bloody, clothes torn, their eyes wide with fear and pain.
One of the female officers was attempting to comfort the girls.
"The male officers couldn't get near them." Danny said.
"They're children," McGarrett said, sickened by what he was seeing. "No English?"
"That would be to easy."
"Get some more female officers down here. Call the university, have them send an expert on Asian dialects to Queens hospital, preferably a woman, but we'll take what we can get."
Chin called, letting him know he'd found the mission's business office and their books, as well as a wall safe.
"Excellent," McGarrett said. "Call Che, have him send the lab boys."
"Will do, only that ain't all we found. You need to get a peek at the second floor. I already called Sandy in. She's not a happy girl."
"On my way," he said. There were frantic calls over the rover unit, requesting more female officers and for anyone who spoke Tagalog and various other Asian dialects.
On his way up the stairs he nearly collided with Sergeant Sandra Wells, who was now a detective specializing in human trafficking cases. "Mr. McGarrett," she said, "I've never seen it this bad before." Her face was pale and she looked a little green. "There are at least a dozen girls up there, all of them traumatized, and all of them extremely underage. Every time I try to go near one of them, they start screaming."
"I think it's your hair, honey," he said. "I have a feeling those girls have a problem with blondes. Put on a scarf and do your job." He gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. She was one of the few female officers he knew that would allow that. They went back way too long.
She nodded and went to find a scarf. A few minutes later, she was back, determined to do her job.
"Sandy," he said, "there are three young Asian girls in the basement. They've been... injured. I want them in protective custody and not deported. You understand?"
"Yes, sir," she said. "How old."
He shook his head. "Not very. And Sandy, make sure the hospital does rape kits on all three."
She didn't say anything, just sighed and went downstairs.
McGarrett found Chin on the third floor. Most of the floor was taken up by luxury accommodations for the Reverend, Chicken, Roxie, and their VIP clients. Chin was loading every paper file he could find into boxes and was sealing them with Five-O tags. This was one operation where he didn't want the lawyers disputing any of the chain of evidence.
McGarrett pulled on a pair of plastic gloves and opened the ledger Chin handed him. Neat rows of figures, with names and amounts were entered into the book, along with deductions for food, lodging, clothes, and an infinity of other items that were designed to keep the women in debt to their trafficker.
"You go by the amounts they got on that ledger, the poor girls will never get free. Look, boss, some of the girls are Chinese. I can tell by the names. If it's okay by you, I'd like to help with the girls."
McGarrett knew that Chin's calm, fatherly demeanor could work wonders with frightened children. "Go ahead. The lab boys can finish packing the rest of this up."
Danny came up a few minutes later. "Sandy has gone to Queens with the kids we found in the basement. I'd like to head that direction, too, unless you need me here."
"Go ahead. It's going to be bedlam there when the rest of the girls start showing up."
"Yeah. I think about every country in Asia is represented, or at least the ones with surplus daughters."
"I'm going back to Iolani. Before you leave arrange with HPD to have the good reverend brought to my office. I'll even let him bring his lawyer along."
"Feeling the need of a little prayer?"
"One of us is going to be praying."
"What about the sheriff?"
"What about him? I think he's fine right where he is. He shouldn't be able to cause much trouble in a holding cell."
Danny nodded and left. He almost felt sorry for the Reverend and the Sheriff. Almost.
As guard duty went, Compton conceded, this one wasn't so bad. At least they were getting fed and were inside out of the elements. True, every half hour one of them would have to go outside to check the perimeter, but so far the only thing they'd spooked out of the bushes was a mongoose.
Maggie's cell phone rang at seven. She was relieved when she saw Steve's name pop up on the caller ID. There had been a brief blurb about the raid on the six o'clock news with the promise of more coverage at eleven. She'd been anxious since."Hey, hon," she said. "You still at work."
"Yes, and I'm going to be here for while. How's my girl?"
"Waiting for you to explain all this."
"When I get time. Put Compton on the phone a minute, please."
"Sure, hold on." She passed the phone over. "Hey, Robbie, the Big Man wants to talk to you."
Robbie listened, nodded, and said 'yes sir' before passing the phone back to Maggie.
"Sweetie," Steve said. "He's going to ask for some things in a minute. Give them to him."
"Okay," she said, "You know, you are not making a whole lot of sense right now."
"I know, baby. All in good time. Let Lu know Duke's okay and he'll call as soon as their location is secure. I love you and I will see you when I get home."
"Love you, too," she said closing the phone. "Okay, Robbie, what is it I'm suppose to give you?"
To his credit, Compton looked both miserable and embarrassed.
"The .45 and the ammo that's in the nightstand, the riot gun that's attached to the bed frame, the shotgun shells that are in the bottom dresser drawer, and the Mac-10 that's mounted to the underside of the dining room table. The ammo for that one's in the bottom desk drawer. All the guns are loaded and on safe but be careful anyway. Sorry. He said you didn't know about all the guns."
"I knew about the .45. Is that all the firepower? I suspect there's more."
"If there is he didn't mention it."
"Any word from Duke?" Lu asked.
"Sorry, hon," Maggie said, "he's fine and will call as soon as his location is secure, whatever the hell that means."
Lu didn't know it was possible to be so relieved. "Thank the gods. That man has done something to me."
Maggie raised an eyebrow. "More details?" she asked, hopefully. After spending the weekend at Duke's house Lu had been in an exceptionally good mood. When asked why she'd smiled and said she had met an Hawaiian sex god.
Neither Compton or Marks wanted to hear 'details' from either of those women. Some things they did not want to even think about.
"Can we get the guns now, please?" Marks asked.
"This way, kids," Maggie said. She got the .45 and the ammo while Compton took out the riot gun and Marks secured the Mac-10.
Compton was a military armorer and familiar with all the weapons. He gave Marks a crash course on how to handle the Mac-10 before Marks decided to stick with the shotgun.
"Mr. McGarrett said that both you ladies know how to use a .45 and that Sgt Yablanski is suppose to have one in her bag." Compton said.
Maggie looked at Lu, both eyebrows raised this time. "It's under the front seat. One of you can go fetch it." Lu tossed her car keys to Marks.
"Lu," Maggie said. "Where'd you get a .45?"
"It's Duke's. He thought I needed some extra protection after he caught the guy watching the house. You get a concealed carry permit, too?"
"Yepper. Like the military trusts us grunts with guns on post. I'm for the showers and my pj's. How about you?"
"Same here. Then we can watch chick flicks and paint each other's toe nails. I don't suppose you have a pair of pj's I can borrow that won't look like short shorts?"
"You can borrow some of Steve's, you're almost as tall as he is. This is his idea anyway; he'll get over it."
Marks came back with the .45. Maggie and Lu retreated to the bedroom. She was getting ready to open the sliding doors when there was a knock at the bedroom door. "Mr. McGarrett said don't even think about leaving those doors open tonight." Compton said through the closed door.
"That man knows you too well," Lu said.
Maggie just shook her head. Men!
Big Chicken was happily eating his way through a second carton of sweet and sour pork from the Chinese take-out joint across the street. He and two of his cronies were holed up in an empty warehouse that would soon be filled with cheap toys and decorations for the Christmas season. The warehouse and all it's import permits were owned through a shell corporation that could eventually be traced back to man named William Blake Hudson and good luck finding that gentleman. All those lovely import permits and cheap goods made smuggling in the real goods a breeze.
Chicken had learned a few things while in prison. The one lesson that had stuck was that when people are are desperate enough, there is money to be made. From his prison cell he had used his old connections in the drug trade to set up a network where humans were bought and sold on an open market. It was easy. Tell the parents you're looking for factory workers for the US and they'd jump at the few hundred dollars you were offering for their daughters and occasionally for their younger sons. Load the kids on a boat, hide them with the containerized cargo, and bring them in under the very noses of the Navy, Coast Guard, and customs. Easier than smuggling drugs, because the goods cooperated. Or at least until they found out what their final destination was and what they were expected to do to earn their keep. Chicken had made a fortune, most of it hidden in offshore banks, laundered through the United Church of the Universal Truth, in this case, the universal truth being that money buys a lot of influence and a whole lot of looking the other way.
He hadn't intended to stay in the Island's long. He had passage on a ship leaving port Friday morning, bound for Thailand. He had planned on hanging out at the mission just long enough to lull his probation officer and the police into thinking he had indeed reformed. A pre-arranged signal from the Sheriff's office had alerted him to the raid on the mission. He was going to have to make another very sizable contribution to Sheriff Murphy's campaign fund. That man would do anything for a headline.
Now he was sitting back, biding his time, waiting for just the right moment. He knew his latest targets were inaccessible where they were. It didn't matter. Eventually they would have to leave the house. The uniforms they wore made them easy to spot and the difference in height made them stand out wherever they went.
He'd nearly gone into spasms of ecstasy when he found out the tall one was seeing HPD Sergeant Duke Lukela. Chick had had one run in with a very young Patrolman Lukela years earlier that had resulted in his third felony conviction, thus making him a prime candidate for habitual offender status. Collins, the man holding the sawed off shotgun while guarding the door, had been sent up by Lukela under that same statute. A minor drug violation and a charge of assaulting a police officer had earned him a life sentence. Collins, like Chick, had spent his days in confinement bettering himself and plotting revenge. He was now Chick's second in command and all around errand boy.
McGarrett and Lukela, Chicken mused, both described as incorruptible.
But not untouchable.
Barker slurped his noodles, causing Chick to shudder. The man was an ass, but he did have his uses. No matter, he was expendable, and too stupid to know it.
When they were done, so was Barker.
Barker was excess baggage.
They would have to leave quickly and travel light, as if there were hellhounds at their heels.
Because there would be.