Maggie was still sleeping when he left the next morning. Usually she was his warm human alarm clock, permanently set at 0430. Today, he was up at 0300 to get ready for the raid on Oahu State Prison. He had the warrants, he had the manpower lined up, and for this raid, he knew the sheriff wasn't going to show up and tip off the suspects. Federal marshals were standing by, ready to take over the management of the place.
He'd gotten home just before sundown, the search for the fugitives having been called off because of darkness. There were still spots in the search area where no one went after dark without a swat team as backup. The search of the PI's office on Maui had turned up detailed billing records and a 'do not file, do not copy' order. The PI who did most of the investigation was one Carson Smith, now on an extended holiday in New Zealand and who bore a very striking resemblance to the mug shot of one Carlton Saunders, recently released from HPD custody after pleading guilty to misdemeanor voyeurism. The reverend wasn't exaggerating when he'd said it was high dollar surveillance. The state comptroller would have screamed bloody murder at the invoice. McGarrett had wanted Maggie and Lu to stay at the house. Lu had other ideas. Duke had driven Lu back to Ft Shafter, leaving her car parked in the driveway next to Maggie's returned Mustang. Duke wasn't happy about the idea, but Lu had insisted she needed to get uniforms ready for the next week.
They had gone walking on the beach after Kanoa and Franklin had left. Maggie had been unusually quiet most of the evening. When Steve had asked her why, she'd replied that the last time she'd had to deal with this much security it was because the damned Iraqi's were shooting SCUD missiles at the Americans and everything was locked down. He'd held her until she'd stopped trembling; then they'd returned to the house and made love until he felt the tension draining from her body, hoping that she'd be able to sleep without being awakened by PTSD fueled nightmares and giving him one more reason to want Big Chicken locked up for good.
He lay there, holding her, watching her sleep, her body warm and soft against his. She was a wonder, this Little Menehune. He knew it was cliché but most of the time he'd be the first one sleeping. He'd hold her, listening to her breathe and her heart beating, sometimes listening to that southern drawl lulling him into a world of softness he hadn't known could exist; happy, contented, and at peace with the world. Instead, tonight, he'd held her while she slept, thinking how that if a year ago anyone had told him he'd meet an Army sergeant from Louisiana, a tiny women seventeen years his junior, with a lot of silver hair, tattoos, and big green eyes; who drove too fast, played heavy metal music way too loud, and couldn't make coffee at all; that this small enigma wrapped up in an army uniform with a chestful of combat ribbons and a world class case of PTSD was going to turn his entire world upside down and have him thinking of the rest of his life in terms of not being a cop, he would have told them they were crazy. He had known her for a week when he knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. The first time he'd touched her hand, that awful day when she had to identify the body of her missing soldier, he felt like he'd been hit by a bolt of energy that went straight to his heart. He'd looked down into those big green eyes and had known he was going to find a reason to see her again.
He loved her to a distraction. The first time they had made love it was over in minutes, but only because neither of them could get enough of the other fast enough. The intensity of the encounter was phenomenal for both. The next time he had taken his time, exploring every inch of her body, all of those curves and gentle rises, the firm mounds and soft peaks. He found all the spots, the sweet spots, those secret places that only lover's know, the ones where a touch or a nibble sends a current of need and desire through the body, where a soft flick of the tongue in the right place at the right time can bring instant satisfaction. He'd done the same tonight, loving her well and reverently, worshiping her as if she were a goddess, hoping to calm her fears, to keep the nightmares from returning. He was starting to drift off to sleep, his right hand palm down against the slight curve of her tummy over the pelvic arch, when he felt a faint, almost imperceptible movement under his palm. He sat up a bit, eyes wide open, pressing his palm down a little harder, yet not hard enough to wake her. There it was again, the same soft movement, the same swift tiny fluttering, as if something very small had rolled over and gone back to sleep, and then there was stillness.
He lay back down, holding her as close as he dared without disturbing her. Probably just a muscle spasm. He couldn't form the words to put into thought what he was hoping. He fell asleep inhaling the scent of her perfume.
The bed was narrow and crowded and he didn't care because Susan was there with him.
After Duke had dropped Susan off at the BEQ on Ft Shafter, he'd gone to the beach, managing to catch a few waves before darkness had him paddling back to the shore. He'd gone home, showered, and tried to sleep, only to lie there staring at the ceiling of his too quiet bedroom in his too quiet house until he finally admitted defeat. He got up, got dressed, grabbed a clean uniform from the closet and drove back to Ft Shafter. The MP on the gate, the same one who'd signed him off post not four hours earlier, smirked at his HPD ID and handed him a visitor's parking pass.
"Man, you need to get your girlfriend to get you a permanent pass. That'd make my life a hell of a lot easier."
Duke frowned at the kid as he drove away.
Ten minutes later he was knocking on her door.
She stood there looking at him, half smiling, wearing pajama pants and a very small tee shirt that left nothing to the imagination.
"Can I come in?" he asked.
"Anytime," she said. "You know, I'm suppose to write the kiddies up for what we're about to do."
"I wouldn't want you to get into any trouble," he said as he took her into his arms.
"Baby, you've been trouble since I met you," she said, silencing any objections he may have had with kisses.
"Susan," he whispered as he held her. "My magic lady. I couldn't sleep without you there next to me. I tried. It just wasn't happening."
"Same here," she said. "This bed isn't nearly as big as yours and it felt empty without you. Now all I have to do is sneak you out of here before reveille."
"I have to leave around four, if you don't mind. I'm sorry, I know it's early. There's something I have to do first thing in the morning." He held her closer. Tomorrow morning he'd pick up the warrant for Captain Seth Walker's arrest.
"Still haven't found your bad guys, have you?" she asked.
"No, honey, we haven't. It's only a matter of time before we find them. They haven't left the Island and I have a feeling they haven't left the city either."
"Maybe tomorrow." she said, snuggling closer.
"Susan," he said.
"Yes, love?"
"It's going to work. You. Me. Us. It's going to work."
She reached up to caress his cheek, his skin feeling like soft warm leather. She could feel his pulse beating as she rested her hand against his throat.
"That's the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me," she said.
"My Kukana," he whispered, lips brushing against her ear, making her senses tingle.
"That's the second time you've called me that. What does that mean?" she asked.
"It's your name in Hawaiian. My Kukana, my Susan," he said as he kissed her.
It was remarkable what two adults can get up to in a very narrow bed when they have each other on their minds.
Compton, Marks, Kanoa, and Franklin had all been asked to stay behind after roll call. All four of them were gathered around a table, coffee in hand, speculating on their next duty.
"It'd better not be babysitting again," Compton groused. "I mean, they feed you and everything, only all that wedding planning stuff is too much."
"Don't forget the chick flicks," Kanoa said, shuddering.
"I'm trying. 'Secret's in the sauce' my ass," said Franklin. "I'm never eating barbecue again."
"Oh, yeah?" said Compton, "I'll see you two chick flicks and raise you one Hawaiian sex god."
"One what?" Marks asked.
"While you were out chasing the mongoose out of the bushes, they started giggling about this one magazine article. Then the tall one said something about finding an Hawaiian sex god and the little one started giggling about 'Mr. Tent in the Covers' and hell no I did not ask them to elaborate!"
"Dude," said Kanoa, "I'm gonna need serious therapy to get that image out of my head!"
Further speculation ended as Sgt Lukela, followed by two men in suits the uniformed officers recognized as belonging to Internal Affairs entered the room. Lukela looked more serious than usual.
"Officers, this is Lt Welby and Sgt Lee from Internal Affairs. Before you go into panic mode they are not here for you." He gave them a slight smile, trying to reassure them. IA was always bad news. "Every now and then, we find a police officer who's stepped over the line. When that happens, everything needs to be done out in the open, so there's no doubt as to how and why. Today we're going to be arresting a fellow officer for allegedly doing some very bad things. You are going to be there to witness the arrest. It won't be pleasant, but it has to be done. That's what being a police officer is, doing what has to be done, no matter how unpleasant it may be. Are you ready?"
They all nodded in affirmation. "Who we arresting, Sergeant?" asked Kanoa.
"Captain Seth Walker from Vice. His office is on the third floor. Please follow us. We're going to try to do this as quietly as possible."
They took the elevator to the third floor. Walker had a corner office at the end of the corridor across the hall from the detectives bullpen. He was just coming out of his office when he saw Duke, flanked by Welby and Lee and followed by the four uniformed officers. He paused long enough to make eye contact with Duke before retreating back into his office, slamming the door and locking it.
The officers sprinted down the corridor. Cops are naturally nosy, especially when there's a commotion taking place outside their offices. Heads were turning and weapons were being drawn, just in case.
Duke knocked on the door. "Cpt Walker, open the door! We've got a warrant for your arrest. Open the door or it's coming down."
Walker answered by putting two rounds through the top of the door. Both of them ricocheted harmlessly into the ceiling, sending down a shower of plaster dust.
"You're on the third floor, Captain." Duke said. "There's no way out and I know you don't want to shoot an officer."
"Oh, yeah! You know what they do to cops in lockup! Screw you!" Walker fired another round through the door, this one boring into the opposite wall.
"It's only a matter of time before he hits someone," Lee said.
"He's firing high," Duke said. "I'd say he's doing it intentionally."
"Intentional or not, we're going in. Franklin, break down the door. As soon as it's open, we rush."
"No," Duke said. "I'll go in. The only person he wants to kill is himself and we're not going to do it for him."
"You sure?" asked Welby. "Kevlar's no good for a head shot and he's an expert marksman."
"That's how I know he's not going to shoot anyone," Duke said. "He's aiming high and taking angle and possible ricochet into consideration. He wants to die, and wants us to do it for him. Not today."
Lee nodded in agreement. "Okay, break it down, count of three, then go in. We've got your back, just in case and I hope like hell you're right."
"So do I," Duke said.
Franklin kicked down the door.
"I'm coming in, Captain." Duke said. He entered the room, service revolver still in it's holster. Walker sat at his desk, gun pointed under his chin.
"Put that down, please," Duke said. "Shooting yourself isn't going to solve a thing."
"Really," Walker said. "How would you know? You know what they say about you? That you're incorruptible. That you live by some old honor code straight out of the 1800's. Never took a bribe, never even cheated on your wife. Always did the right thing at the right time. Like some sort of freaking superhero."
"No, Captain, just a cop. That's all, just a cop. You've got a wife and kids, don't do this to them."
"Wife? Kids? Not anymore. I've got two ex wives and three ex kids who won't talk to me because they think I'm the biggest jerk who ever lived for leaving their mom for women half my age who look good in tight designer dresses," Walker said bitterly. "I thought I needed a trophy on my arm. One that would look good for the cameras. That was my first mistake."
"You can't fix a mistake if you're dead. We all make mistakes. Some worse than others. They can be fixed. You just have to want to fix them."
Outside the door, the young officers were listening, guns drawn. Sgt Lukela was speaking quietly to Captain Walker, trying to get to the part of the man's brain that once housed a good cop. This was better than any classroom lecture they'd ever attended at the academy.
"Yeah, easy for you to say. You got lucky. You had a good woman. I keep marrying women who can't survive without at wallet full of credit cards and twenty four carat gold jewelry. This last one never met a jewelry store she didn't like. I still haven't found the right one."
"Maybe you're looking in the wrong places, Brudah." Duke said, slowly moving toward the desk, trying to keep Walker talking.
"Wait until she finds out I've been arrested. She'll clean out what's left in the bank and divorce me. After your wife died, everyone was waiting for you to go a little nuts. Or end up with some silly little chippie just to get though the night. Only it didn't happen. You're still the same. Heard you got a new women. An Army sergeant, of all things. Is she a good women? Where'd you find her?"
"She is a good women. One of the best. I found her on the lanai at a party at Steve McGarrett's house. She'd be really upset if you shot me."
"I was at that party. Left early because my wife didn't like not being the center of attention. I think it was because she was being intimidated by a bunch of women who don't give a crap about jewelry and designer dresses. Don't worry, I'm not going to shoot you, Lukela. I don't even think I'm going to shoot myself. If I had the courage to do that, I'd have done it years ago."
"We're not going to shoot you either. You want to give me that gun, please?"
Walker slowly lowered the gun. He handed it Duke, who opened the breach and emptied the chamber.
Compton and Marks handcuffed Walker. Lt. Welby read him his Miranda rights and escorted him downstairs to central booking.
Duke stood there a minute, looking around Walker's office. There was a picture of Walker and his latest trophy wife on the desk. Walker was in a tux and his wife, a small Asian women of mixed heritage, was in a dress that must have cost at least two grand and wearing enough gold and diamonds to start her own jewelry shop.
"Get this place secured until the lab and IA can get back in here," he told the officers. "When you're done with that, hit the streets. We're still trying to run down fugitives. I'll be at Iolani if anyone needs me. Good work, men."
The four young officers nodded as he left.
"That was the bravest thing I think I've ever seen," Kanoa said after they'd sealed the office with crime scene tape.
"Nah," Marks said. "The bravest thing that man ever did was ask that female first sergeant out on a date. That took some cojones. After that, anything would be a piece of cake."
Compton rolled his eyes ceilingward. "Time to hit the streets. The criminals aren't going to arrest themselves." He wasn't going to speculate about Hawaiian sex gods, but he knew a damned good cop when he saw one.
Maggie was lying on the exam table, feet in the stirrups, waiting for Dr. Sessums. She didn't like gynecologists, refused to see one that wasn't female, and had brought Lu along for moral support. She was fairly certain the doctor was going to tell her something she wasn't going to like.
Maggie had seen Dr. Sessums when she'd first arrived in Hawaii. The docs from Walter Reed insisted she have a thorough exam every six months, including one for gynecology. Dr Sessums was an attractive blonde in her mid thirties with a twisted sense of humor. She was also a very good doctor.
"Nice to see you again, Sgt Alden," she said, glancing up from the chart. "I see today's visit is because you want to have a baby and discuss possible fertility treatment. Does this mean that you've met someone since your last visit?"
"Yes," Maggie said. "I have. We're getting married in December. I didn't think it would ever happen again, but it did. Now tell me what I need to do to get pregnant."
"Having sex is always a good start," Dr. Sessums said. "I'm going to assume you've tried that already." She pulled on a pair of exam gloves. "Deep breath there, it's time for the not so fun part."
Maggie took a deep breath and held it as the doctor poked and prodded her insides.
"When was the last time you had a period?" she asked, looking up, frowning.
"I haven't had one since I got to Hawaii. They've been erratic since I got hurt, now I think they've stopped altogether."
"Been sleeping more lately? Any problem with swollen ankles?"
"Now that you mention it, I have been sleeping more. I thought the insomnia was finally going away. No swollen ankles though."
Dr Sessums took out a tape measure and measured the distance between belly button and pelvic bone, hummed a bit, and wrote something on the chart. Then she took out a stethoscope with a bell shaped attachment hanging from it. She held it over Maggie's lower abdomen.
"Hey," Maggie said, "that thing's freezing."
"Yes, I kept it in the fridge just for you. Quiet."
"Find anything interesting?" Maggie asked after what she considered one freezing prod too many.
"As a matter of fact, yes. Looks like you're not going to have to worry about fertility treatments after all. Congratulations. You're pregnant."
"What! I mean how? I haven't had a period in ages!"
"You don't have to have a period to get pregnant. Just ovulate at the right time, have sex, and presto, instant baby. Here, have a listen."
Dr. Sessums helped Maggie adjust the stethoscope and held it to her tummy. "The stronger heartbeat is yours, the fainter one, with the little whistle behind it, is the baby's. It's a good strong heartbeat. The whistle is the blood going through the placenta. I'm going to guess you're between twelve and sixteen weeks. I'll schedule an ultrasound for tomorrow morning. Bring your guy in with you. That is if he's doesn't die from shock first."
"Wow. Baby in there. Wow." Maggie said.
"Yes, baby in there," Dr Sessums said, smiling at Maggie's reaction. "And with your medical history this is going to be one closely monitored pregnancy. As of today, no more PT. Get lots of rest and no more twelve hour days chasing down stories or 24 hour duty. I suspect you're about to spend a lot of time on bed rest so I suggest taking up knitting."
"Baby. Going to have baby."
"Yes, baby. Sometime in February of next year. I'll be able to give you a closer due date after the ultrasound. Now get dressed, there are some forms you need to fill out at the front desk. Oh, and you may want to move your wedding date up if your planning on fitting into the dress."
Maggie got dressed in the pants uniform she had worn to the doctor's because she hadn't felt like fighting with a pair of pantyhose twice in one day. She was at the desk filling out forms, when Lu caught sight of her. One look told her something was up.
The clerk was typing information into the fields of a template. "Dad's name?" she asked.
"Steven J. McGarrett," Maggie said automatically.
The clerk hit print. A minute later a three by five card with clip art of lambs, teddy bears, and a stork flying over cleared the printer. It read: SFC Margaret C. Alden and Steven J. McGarrett will be anticipating their new arrival February 1997. She date and time stamped it at the bottom. Some of their patients wanted to know the exact day they found out they were expecting.
Maggie passed Lu the card.
"You have got to be kidding!" she said.
"Nope. Ultrasound is tomorrow morning. I swear I had no clue."
"Wow. In February? You're going to have to move up the wedding date."
"Yeah, from his birthday to mine. Oh god, I've got to tell him. I hope he's back at his office."
"I'll go with you. Duke will be there. I'll see if I can drag him out of there long enough to get some lunch."
"Good idea. We can stop by the print shop on the way out and see how quickly they can get the invitations out. Lu! I'm pregnant! We're gonna have a baby!"
Lu shook her head, laughing as she hugged her friend, hoping that this time everything would work.
They were both so preoccupied with the news that neither of them noticed the white van with military marking that pulled out of Tripler's parking lot behind them and followed them to the print shop.
Big Chicken was happy. The cargo had been delivered, and was now bound back to back in two wooden chairs, heads still covered with the black hoods that kept them from seeing where they were being taken, not that it mattered, both were still groggy from the chloroform.
"You should have let me take the car," Barker complained. "We could get good money for that thing. Chop shops would pay premium for that engine."
"Shut up, Barker," Collins said. "The fuzz need to find the car."
"They need to find the car and they need to worry. We want them to worry. We want them to know we're holding all the cards. Take those hoods off, I want to see what's so special about those two."
Barker jerked the hoods off.
Chicken went over to where the women were tied to the chairs. He lifted Maggie's chin and patted her on the cheek to rouse her. "Wakey wakey, Sgt Alden."
Maggie had lost her glasses and couldn't see who was speaking to her. Her lower back hurt like hell. One of the thugs had cracked her across the back with a nightstick. She wanted to scream in pain but refused to give them the satisfaction of hearing her.
"Wakey wakey, Sgt Yablanski." Chick said, going around to where Lu was tied. "I've got both of you. Just like I planned. This couldn't have worked better if I'd done the job myself. Such pretty ladies. I can't wait to get to know you both better. Too bad that cute redheaded sailor couldn't join us."
In the corner, Collins laughed.
"You see, ladies," Chicken said, pacing around them in a circle, stopping on occasion to have a closer look at the women."We've been locked up a long time. A long time. By McGarrett and Lukela. Remember, ladies, that whatever happens, is all their fault. Not mine, not yours, but theirs. They hide behind those badges and think they're some sort of gods, telling the rest of us what we can and can't do. They think they serve a noble cause, and that gives them power. Not anymore. When I'm done, they'll both be useless. As for you two, I need you to get off this Island. You will be returned to Mr. McGarrett and Sgt Lukela all in good time. Of course, no one says what condition you have to be in when we do."
Chicken leered at the women. Today was going to be a good day.