The contract killer smiled as he imagined the expression on McGarrett's face when he got to the hospital and found Williams already dead.
Charades — Conclusion
Hawaii Five-0 fanfiction
Lying on the stretcher, Danny Williams beckoned his friends closer and pulled off the oxygen mask.
"Steve, I saw …" His voice squeaked and failed.
Danny looked outraged at this further indignity. His expression gave way to panic as his wheezing increased, then ceased. He clawed at his throat.
"Damn!" Paramedic Ab Riley shoved the cops out of his way.
"Airway?" asked his rookie partner, Margrette Chandler with her hand on the equipment.
Riley shined his light into Danny's gaping mouth. "No good. His throat's swollen. Can't force an airway down. Get me the trach kit," he shouted at his partner.
Chandler cursed because she'd repacked the tracheotomy kit when the rescue seemed finished. She threw open the carrying case and dug for it.
Riley put his hand on Danny's forehead and, from inches away, looked him in the eye as if trying to hypnotize him.
"Danny, stop straining! Hold your breath!" he commanded.
Danny obeyed.
"I know it's scary as hell," the paramedic continued. "But there's plenty of oxygen in your lungs." He tapped the mask as a reminder. "I'm going to do a tracheotomy, then you'll be able to breathe again."
Danny nodded. He'd gone pale and had started to sweat. Riley didn't like the looks of him at all.
"What happened?" Steve McGarrett demanded.
"Irony happened. It might be a reaction to the dust, but I think the pressure of the chain prevented swelling, when we released the pressure, his throat swelled up and closed off the airway."
"Ab!" Chandler called.
Riley reached out and caught the trach kit spinning toward him. He swabbed the notch of Danny's throat with antiseptic and topical anesthetic. You didn't want a patient to flinch when you had a sharp knife at his throat. Talking as he worked, Riley pulled out a scalpel.
"I'll bet you wonder what 'Ab' stands for," he said, though no one had taken notice of Chandler's call. "Nothing as nice as Abner, I'm afraid. My parents named me Absalom. Can you imagine! Just because they were missionaries. They couldn't pick a nice Biblical name like Daniel. I could totally get behind Daniel." His patient's eyes were closed. He didn't react to Riley's chatter. Not good when a patient didn't react to his own name. Not good at all.
Though his babble was inane, Riley's fingers were skilled. He carefully made the cut and inserted the breathing tube. Air began to whistle in and out, but Danny's face remained pale and his eyes didn't open.
"Shock, and who can blame the poor guy. It's been a hell of a day," Riley said with heartfelt sympathy. He covered the detective with a blanket and started an IV. He and Chandler loaded Danny in their ambulance.
The paramedic turned to Steve.
"How are you?" Riley asked, wondering if they should take both officers.
Steve shrugged his shoulders experimentally. "A little stiff. Not bad."
"I recommend a hot shower and two ibuprophen," Riley said. He slapped the commander on the shoulder, raising a cloud of dust. "Hot shower first," he advised.
"Danny going to be OK," Officer Kono Kalakaua asked anxiously, following Riley to the driver's seat.
"I'm not a doctor," he answered. "But I've seen worse. I didn't find any broken bones just bruising. The trach I did may be the worst of it. It's damned annoying to have a hole in your neck. Gotta go."
He drove off swiftly, siren whooping.
Steve watched numbly. Chin poked through the sand and picked up the cloth that had been tangled around Danny's hand.
"Now we know what Danny was trying to say," Chin said solemnly. He held up a torn ski mask. "He saw the assassin's face."
After Steve showered in the locker room and changed clothes, he found representatives of two newspapers, two TV stations and an all-news radio station waiting for him in one of the conference rooms. A scattering of curious cops, including Chin Ho Kelly and Kono, loitered around the walls.
"I don't have much to tell you," Steve warned. "A police officer was injured in an explosion at Pakanani Park. His name is being withheld pending notification of next of kin."
The news people waited for more and got Steve's stone-faced stare instead.
The reporter for the city's biggest daily tapped his pen impatiently.
"Commander, I think everyone here can count to four. I don't see Detective Williams. Is he the one who was injured?"
Steve's nostrils flared as he considered laying his cards on the table. He didn't want to make enemies of these people. He had more than enough enemies. It might be a mistake, but his instincts said go for it.
"All right," he decided. "Off the record. Pens down. Cameras off. If I see one word of what I'm about to tell you before I give the OK, then I'll make sure you're locked out of every press conference I have anything to do with. Believe me, you have no idea how tight I can hold a grudge. Anyone who's not OK with this, can leave now."
Nosiness is the reason for being and the besetting sin of journalists. The reporters put down their pens and ostentatiously turned off their recorders. The cameramen lowered their lenses. The cops tensed with interest.
Steve nodded shortly. "We have reason to believe that, this afternoon, Detective Danny Williams interrupted the contract killed known as Mo'o in the act of planting a bomb at the park."
"'Reason to believe?'" A TV newswoman raised her eyebrows in query.
"Williams was injured in the struggle. He's been unable to tell us what happened. We hope to talk to him soon."
Behind him, Steve sensed Kono stirring uncomfortably. He wasn't sure he liked what he'd just said, either.
"They say Mo'o never leaves a witness alive," the veteran reporter said.
"Danny Williams is a trained police officer who had been warned about Mo'o's MO." It said something for the seriousness of the moment that no one chuckled at the oddly constructed sentence. "When Mo'o was unable to disable Danny with martial arts, he threw a hand grenade at him. Danny was injured in the explosion, but his injuries do not appear life threatening. And, by the way, what I said before is true. I have not notified his next of kin, yet. I'm not going to call his daughter until I get an update on his condition. So if I hear his name on TV..." Steve threatened.
"You won't," the other TV reporter promised. "But we can't sit on this forever.'
"When do you think you'll have some information we can use," asked the reporter from the smaller daily.
"Tomorrow morning."
The newspaper people looked unhappy. That would put them a full day behind everyone else. Steve understood that.
"OK," he gave in. "Don't release anything until 21:00, 9 p.m." the Navy man corrected himself. "After 9, you can use Danny's name and say he thwarted an attempt to plant a bomb at the park where the governor will be attending an Earth Day festival on Saturday. Using Mo'o's name would be pure speculation. I honestly can't confirm that until I talk to Danny. I'll try to get you more by 9."
The most senior newsman looked around at his colleagues. "The story is embargoed until 9 p.m., agreed? No broadcasts or blogs or web posts until then." Everyone nodded.
"'Heroic cop foils assassination attempt' — that's enough to get started with," the younger reporter said. "Have you got a bio of Williams we can pull from?"
"I'll send something," Steve promised. "Now I've got to get over to the hospital to check on my friend."
As Steve turned away from the media, he found Kono's brown eyes regarding him reproachfully. "Boss, did you just hang Danny out as bait?" she asked quietly.
Steve opened his mouth to deny it; then shut it again. He rubbed his head uneasily. There was no rational reason to believe that Danny was in more danger now than before the press conference, but Steve felt obscurely guilty. He looked at Chin.
"What do you think?"
"I think Danny was already hanging out there. You just twitched him a little."
"You felt it, too, then?"
"Like there was a predator in the room?" Chin said, expressing Steve's feelings exactly.
"One of the reporters?" Kono asked. She hadn't fully developed her cop instincts, but a beautiful woman knows when unfriendly eyes are on her, too.
"They have access to places and people that most civilians don't," Chin said judiciously.
"Something to think about," Steve agreed. He felt antsy and wanted to move. "I won't be happy until I hear what Danny has to say. Let's go see if the doctors are done with him yet."
The curious cops had scattered back to work, but it wasn't quite that easy to get away from the reporters. The radio man, in particular, needed something he could run right now, even if it was just 'no comment.' Steve had to give him a sound bite before he and his team could leave.
When he finally finished, Chin told him that he'd called the hospital for a report.
"They're just taking Danny back to his room now. The X-rays were negative."
"That's a relief," Kono said.
"He should be awake soon, then he can tell us what he saw," Chin said.
Confident that he was indistinguishable from the other uniformed officers in the room, Mo'o slipped away from the press conference and left the building. He had done some research and learned which officer was guarding Danny at the hospital. Armed with that information, and knowing his way around police dispatchers, Mo'o was confident he could gain access to the wounded detective before McGarrett got a chance to talk to him.
Mo'o smiled as he imagined the expression on McGarrett's face when he got to the hospital and found Williams already dead. The Dragon — as he thought of himself — never left a witness alive.
The assassin parked his motorcycle in front of the hospital and left his helmet on the bike. He'd already sent a message to the guard at Danny's door that he was urgently needed to make a deposition at the courthouse. (Cops almost always had upcoming depositions.) The officer was pacing anxiously, waiting for his promised relief. Mo'o left the elevator coughing into the crook of his elbow. He made straight for the drinking fountain, waving the impatient officer on his way. The guard ran to stop the elevator door from closing. The judge he'd been told to see was not a patient man.
As soon as he was gone, Mo'o stepped into Danny's room.
The detective was asleep, heart monitor beeping steadily, breath hissing through tubes.
Mo'o wanted to complete his delayed kill quickly and quietly. He slipped a pillow off a shelf and pressed it over Danny's face.
But Danny was breathing through his throat, not his mouth. The pillow just woke Danny up. But with blankets tucked tightly around his body and one arm fastened down because of an IV, the shocked detective couldn't defend himself. Mo'o ducked his head and ignored the one bandaged hand that was flailing at him.
In a moment, he would recognize his mistake, shift the pillow and Danny wouldn't have a chance.
Well, maybe one chance, because, behind Mo'o, the door opened silently.
Worry made Kono impatient to see how Danny was. Steve dropped her at the front door of Hawaii Medical Center. A police cruiser and a motorcycle took up the official HPD spot out front, so the Five-0 officers headed for the parking garage.
It was peak visiting hours, just after dinner, and every parking spot — legal and illegal — was full. Steve drove around in increasing frustration, finally diving into a spot ahead of a harried man in a Cadillac. He stuck his head out the window and cursed. Steve waved his badge at the man who waved a single finger back, then drove off.
Chuckling, Chin and Steve headed for the elevators.
Kono hurried into the building. Leaving the elevator, she noticed there was no officer outside Danny's room. The lack of a guard raised a red flag for the rookie cop. Though the guard might be inside the room with Danny, that empty hallway made her hurry her steps.
She opened the door quietly — it was a hospital — and saw a man dressed as a cop pressing a pillow over Danny's face.
Her hand touched the weapon in the small of her back, but she couldn't shoot when he was right on top of Danny. Besides, it was a hospital.
Instead, she darted forward, thrust her forearm around his neck and kicked his feet out from under him. Mo'o fell away from the man in the bed. Danny's bandaged hand pawed away the pillow. The glare on his red face told her that Danny was alive — and more — awake and aware. His eyes flashed past her and widened in silent warning.
She threw herself to the side, pulling her gun, but Mo'o was fast. He caught her arm, stripping the gun from her hand. It skittered across the floor under a chair out of reach. Though he disarmed her, Mo'o didn't catch Kono. She slipped free and spun as he drew his service revolver. Kono was quick, too. A sweeping kick sent Mo'o's weapon flying over Danny's bed. It hit the wall and dropped to the floor.
Kono followed up with a flurry of blows and kicks, but Mo'o blocked and ducked, then he struck back, driving Kono back to the wall. The young woman was a skilled martial artist, but so was Mo'o and he outweighed her. He trapped her body against the wall and wrapped his large hands around her throat. He always went for the throat.
Danny watched helplessly. His left arm was fastened to the side railing on his bed, to prevent him from accidentally pulling out the IV while he was unconscious. His right hand was immobilized by thick bandages on his wounded palm. A thumb and forefinger grip was all he could manage, but he had to help his friend.
With his two-fingered grip, he tore the the sensors off his chest.
The heart monitor flat-lined and an alarm began to shrill. Startled, Mo'o turned to look and Danny tossed the murder pillow in his face.
There was no force in the throw, but Mo'o automatically put up one hand to block the puffy missile. Kono twisted the fingers of the other hand and broke free, backing toward the door and the chair that hid her gun.
Mo'o glared at Danny. "I should have brought a knife," he growled.
Danny grinned fiercely and swept a bandaged finger across his throat, then pointed at Mo'o.
Wanting to wipe that smile off his ostensible victim's face, the assassin took a step toward Danny. Kono took a step toward her gun. Mo'o stopped.
Kono's eyes flicked toward the door. Mo'o cursed himself. He knew she hadn't come alone. She was stalling until McGarrett and Kelly arrived.
With this new motivation, Mo'o was ready to strike when a figure pushed the door open.
The nurse hastened in, answering the alarm. Before she could react to the odd scene, Mo'o backhanded her into Kono who tripped backwards and fell, legs tangled with those of the nurse and the chair.
Mo'o shared one last glare with the helpless yet triumphant Danny, then left, smoothing his hair and walking briskly to the elevator. No one looked twice at him. As the door closed on his car, the elevators from the parking garage opened and Steve and Chin stepped out. Impatient with the delay but unalarmed, they opened the door to Danny's room to find two women squirming on the floor.
"Boss!" Kono gasped as she untangled herself. "Some guy dressed as a cop just tried to kill Danny. You just missed him!"
Steve spun toward the door. Danny shook the bars of his bed and growled like a caged gorilla, making his friends pause in mid-pursuit. Danny released the bars, wincing at the pain in his bandaged hand, but continued to make urgent, inarticulate sounds.
"The man's got something to say," Chin said perceptively.
"The killer's getting away," Steve reminded him.
Chin ignored his boss and stalked forward, staring into Danny's eyes as if he could read his mind. One experienced cop to another, perhaps he could. There was really only one thing worth delaying pursuit.
"He recognized the suspect," Chin said with certainty. "He didn't just see Mo'o; he can ID him!"
Danny pointed his finger at the prizewinner.
"How can he tell us if he can't talk or write?" Steve asked reasonably.
"He can type!" Kono answered, grabbing for her phone. "Honestly, I don't know how you old folks did police work without smart phones."
The men shared a grin at her pertness.
She opened the notepad on her phone and offered Danny the keypad. With one finger he poked out a message. Kono turned the screen to Steve.
"Justice."
Steve rubbed his head. Danny wanted justice? That made sense, but it didn't seem very helpful to Steve. It did to Chin Ho.
"Wait a minute," Chin said. "Justice. Mark Justice?"
Danny's eyes lit and he gestured thumbs up.
"Sgt. Mark Justice, HPD," Chin elaborated.
Steve understood. "Not a fake cop, a real cop."
Danny grunted in satisfaction. At last he'd gotten his message across. He had recognized the man beneath the ski mask.
Kono thumbed through the HPD roster on her smart phone. "Confirmed. That's the man I saw."
"Justice is a motor cop. There was a police motorcycle out front when we dropped Kono off," Chin recalled.
Steve pictured the layout of the hospital and realized they might have a chance to cut off Justice before he got away. "There's no way we can get to the car in time, but the side stairs face the driveway." He took off running, shouting for Kono to call in an APB. Chin chased Steve down the hall.
The concrete stairwell went down the side of the building in a series of open landings that faced the one-way driveway that led away from the hospital. If he didn't want to break traffic laws and be conspicuous, Mo'o would have to drive past the stairwell.
Steve and Chin didn't care about being conspicuous. They pounded down the hallway, waving badges and shouting 'police' at anyone who got in their way.
"It might not be his bike, boss," Chin shouted. "It might be some other officer."
"Any honest cop will be responding to Kono's APB right now. If we see the bike leaving the hospital, that's our guy," Steve said with certainty.
Chin wasn't so sure he'd take those odds, but the Navy intelligence officer used a different calculator than a cop did. Chin hoped Steve was right.
As they piled out onto the stairwell, Justice walked casually out the front door, trying not to attract attention. He climbed on the bike and fastened his helmet. His radio crackled with the APB. His lips tightened. He'd made plans for the day he was discovered, but he cursed the Jersey cop who'd brought that day about. He kicked his bike to life.
On the stairs, Steve and Chin heard the motorcycle roar. Steve bounded around a corner, and then took up a shooting stance braced on the railing. "Go! Go!" he ordered Chin.
Chin flew past, but he was two landings above the ground. The motorcycle appeared, as Chin reached the sidewalk. The bike paused to let a car pass.
"Justice!" Chin bellowed.
The officer's head jerked around. Chin bared his teeth in a victorious grin. This was the right man, no mistake!
"Freeze!" Chin pointed his handgun.
Instead, Justice gunned his bike down the lane right past Steve's position.
The commander's automatic barked once, twice, three times. The first shot spattered off the asphalt, but the second spanged off the bike and the third took Justice through the foot.
He screamed and lost control. The bike crashed on its side, crushing the already wounded foot. Mo'o clawed for his sidearm, but Chin stamped on his hand, pressing until Justice's fingers spread wide.
"You're not going anywhere with that bike on you, so stop playing games," Chin said.
Justice spread his hands out in surrender. Chin took his weapon as Steve ran up.
"Nice shooting, boss."
"Not so much. I was aiming at the tires."
Chin shrugged. "Whatever works."
Steve unclipped Justice's radio and cancelled the APB. "Suspect is in custody," he said with satisfaction.
"You'd never even suspected me if that damned Williams hadn't seen my face," Justice cursed.
Steve stuck the toe of his boot in Mo'o's mouth. "Don't talk about my partner; you'll get his name dirty. He despises dirty cops. You are so far below him, you wouldn't even feel it if he walked on you."
Chin regarded his boss curiously. It almost sounded like he was channeling one of Danny's patented rants. Steve stepped on the assassin cop's chest and shoved him back to the pavement.
"You caused your own downfall, but I'm sure Danny was glad to help. Book 'em, Chin. For Danno."
"My pleasure."
Steve pulled out his phone. "I've got some news guys to call — and an 8-year-old girl." He shook his head as he turned away. "'Justice!' What a name. 'Snake' suits you better."
After putting out the APB and firmly overriding the disbelief of the dispatcher, Kono couldn't catch up with the others. She elected to remain and guard the patient, because Justice might have doubled back. It seemed like an hour, but was only a few minutes before Steve called.
"They got him," Kono reported.
She got a grunt in reply.
Recovered from the blow to the head, the nurse bustled around, reattaching the patient's leads and examining the bandage on his hand, which showed several stains.
"This isn't going to heal properly if you keep using it," she warned.
Danny gave her a reproachful look.
"Not that you had much choice," she admitted. "But try to rest it now."
"Thanks for saving my life, Danny," Kono said.
Danny pointed at her and at himself, then pointed that finger up. It only took her a second to catch on to his charades.
"I saved you first?" she translated. He nodded.
"Maybe," she confessed. "But you saved me with both hands tied behind your back. You rock, Danny Williams!"
Danny laughed silently and showed Kono the "rock on!" horned first.
"Stop with the hand already!" the nurse commanded.
Steve, Chin Ho and Kono returned to Five-0 headquarters from the arraignment of Mark Justice. Kono's testimony about the attack on Danny had been enough to bind the former HPD officer over for trial. The more Five-0 investigated, the more they were hopeful of tying him to at least one of Mo'o's killings.
Kono sighed as they entered the war room. "I miss Danny. It's too quiet here without him."
"You'll be sorry you said that after he gets back," Steve predicted.
"Heard that," said a hoarse voice. Danny looked out from behind a computer screen.
"Danny!" Delighted to see him up and around, Kono ran over to hug her friend. Chin slapped him on the shoulder. Steve tried to pretend he didn't care, but couldn't hide his smile.
"Been catching up," Danny said, gesturing at the computer monitor. "You're getting a lot of dirt on Justice."
"Once we knew who to look at, it got easier," Chin said. "The bomb squad found mines in the sand at the park that match the mines in the satchel Justice dropped. We can trace his movements and even put him on Maui and Kauai when those assassinations occurred."
"And we've got a line on the explosives he used," Kono added. "With more time, we're going to nail him for murder."
"And at the very least, we can get him for attempted murder of a police officer," Steve said.
"Least?" said police officer protested.
Steve shrugged.
"I'm amazed that Justice could get away with his charade for so long, right under our noses at HPD," Chin said.
Kono giggled. "But then Danny's charades put him away." She tapped her nose in the charades sign for "on the nose."
Steve sighed with mock nostalgia. "Charades. I liked it when you were talking with your hands, partner. It was peaceful."
Danny glared at him. "You prefer charades? Here's one for you." He held up two fingers.
"Two words," Chin translated.
Staring straight at the commander, Danny clamped his teeth on his finger."
"Teeth, no, bite?" Steve said, playing along.
Danny tapped his nose, then jerked his thumb at his own chest.
Kono dissolved in giggles. Chin turned away to hide a smile.
"Me…" Steve pondered. "Bite … me. Hey!"
Danny was satisfied he'd gotten the last word — without saying a word at all.
The End