Rick's eyes opened as Magnum hauled him out of the helicopter. Magnum laid him on the ground, trying not to aggravate any injuries he may have received, and leaned over him. TC crouched next to Magnum.

"Hey, Rick. You okay?"

"I think..." Rick started, but gasped as he tried to sit up.

"Where does it hurt?" Magnum asked, checking his friend for wounds. Rick didn't reply, but Magnum had little trouble finding the injury for himself. The left sleeve of Rick's shirt was soaked with blood, the wrist and hand limp. Magnum gritted his teeth. "Don't move," He told Rick, whose eyes were shut again. He worked for a bit at the cuff, and finally managed to rip it open, tearing it up to the elbow.

Just as Magnum had thought, right below the elbow there was a gash in the skin, and pale white splinters of bone were poking through. Magnum shuddered; he couldn't help it.
TC, too, winced.

"Broken?" Rick asked quietly.

"Yeah, but...It'll be okay..." Magnum replied, trying to keep the horror off of his face. He laid the arm out on the ground, trying hard not to cause Rick a lot of pain, but from the look on Rick's face he wasn't very successful. Magnum made his way back to the front seat of the chopper, feeling for his duffel bag in the dark.

He didn't know what made him pack a spare shirt along with his gear that morning, but it was a good thing that he had. He looked inside for something he could use as a splint for the arm, but there wasn't anything handy. TC joined him, leaving Rick alone a few feet away, and whispered, "Looks pretty bad."

"Yeah, I know. D'you see anything we can use as a temporary splint?"

"No, unless you want to use some scrap metal from the crash."

Magnum didn't particularly want to. "We can wait for awhile, I think. Is there any chance of the radio still working?"

TC rubbed his hands on his jeans. "I'll get to work on it. I'd also like to know why we crashed."

"Me too, TC."
Leaving TC to work on the radio, Magnum retraced his steps to Rick's side.

As Magnum approached, Rick asked, "Are you okay? You don't look so good."

"I'm fine."

"You've got some glass, or something, near your hairline..."

Magnum reached up and explored the area with his fingertips. He hadn't even realized he himself was still bleeding, but now he could feel the pulse of blood around the chunk of glass in his forehead. "There isn't a whole lot I can do about it, you need the shirt for your arm."

"Use a sleeve or something," Rick argued.

"Why can't we ever just do things my way?" Magnum mused.

Rick just stared at him.

"I"ll take handle it, as soon as we get this arm taken care of. Okay? Get ready for some pain - you might not wanna watch."

Rick turned his head away, biting his lip, determined not to let on to how much it hurt.
Magnum quickly wrapped the shirt tightly around the elbow and gash. He didn't have anything to brace it with, so he tried to compensate by making the knot firm, but it was difficult with a T-shirt.

Rick only gasped once or twice as Magnum had done his best to reposition and crudely set the displaced, broken bone, but by the end he had almost passed out again.

Magnum sat for a few seconds of silence, listening to Rick's ragged breathing, then seemed to remember the glass imbedded in his hair. He quickly tore some material from the bottom of his own shirt and folded it, then - jaw set, teeth clamped together - dug at least most of the glass from his skin. He slapped the makeshift bandage onto his forehead, holding it tightly. Head wounds bled a lot, Magnum knew, but he was hoping the bleeding didn't last long, because he was still feeling light-headed and dazed from the crash, and they would need all their wits about them to get out of wherever they were and to a nice modern hospital.

Rick was apparently unconscious again, shivering slightly in the cool night breeze. Magnum wished that TC had a blanket or something in his chopper, but no such luck. He really didn't even have a good first-aide kit. Magnum dug in his duffel again and pulled out his .45. Magnum leaned back against one of the helicopter's legs, pistol cradled in his lap, keeping an eye on Rick and their surroundings as he listened to TC's mechanical pounding as he tried "percussive maintenance" on the broken radio.

"TC, how's it going with the radio?" Magnum asked, hoping for some good news.

TC, in the middle of trying to pry open one metal plate on the outside of the radio, paused and shook his head. "I don't know, man, still working on it. Something's loose inside, maybe... How's Rick holding up?"

Magnum frowned. "He's fading, man. We gotta get out of here. Maybe there's a cabin or something around." Magnum would have preferred a hospital, modern and brightly lit, but there was nil chance of that. He took in the woodland surrounding them.

TC scoffed. "Yeah, sure. Around here?"

He got a disapproving look from Magnum. "Be positive, TC!"

"Uh-huh," TC replied, continuing his work on the radio. Magnum tried to keep himself awake. To keep his mind occupied and from drifting off, he concentrated on the problem at hand. He knew that they had to get out of here, but how? Magnum decided to focus on Rick, talking to him.

"Hey, Rick, when we get back, I plan on taking you guys out to a steak dinner. What d'you think about that? Rick?"

Rick picked his head up and looked at him. "Yeah, sure, Thomas. On you, right?"

Magnum smiled. "Yeah, buddy, on me!"

"Hey TM, I think I got it," TC announced. He had managed to partially pry off part of the outside of the radio and had been messing with the wires inside.

"Got what?" Rick asked. He breathed deeply, letting his head rest on the ground again.

"The radio. Listen, Rick, don't talk a lot - save your strength. Got it?"

"Yeah, Thomas, I got it." Rick hid a smile. If his arm didn't hurt so much and he wasn't so utterly miserable, he'd have made fun of Magnum's concern, teasing him by calling him "mommy".

Magnum grinned at him again and got haltingly to his feet, limping over to where TC was sitting in front of the radio.

"What's up?" Magnum asked, leaning against the frame of the downed chopper.

TC shrugged his muscular shoulders. "It's not looking good, TM. I'll keep at it, but..."
Thomas didn't want TC to finish the sentence. "Just keep working, TC."

------

Back at the Estate, Higgins was feeding the Lads, and at the same time giving the main house one last look-over. The approaching storm was shaping up to be utterly amazing, and Higgins had collected a flashlight just in case the power fluctuated or went out. He had closed the guest house windows for Magnum; Higgins hoped Magnum would appreciate that - and if he didn't, Higgins could always ask for something in return for the favor.

Regarding the whereabouts of Thomas Magnum, Higgins - while his manner would imply that he couldn't possibly care less - was somewhat... apprehensive. He was probably holed up at the Club with Rick and TC, or off with a pretty lady, but one never quite knew what the man was up to.

The kitchen phone rang just then, soliciting a bark from Zeus.

Higgins picked up the receiver on the second ring, thinking it might be Magnum or maybe even one of his shady clients, but he was greeted with the crisp voice of a gentleman who identified himself as being with the Coast Guard. The message was concise, delivered in an obviously practiced tone of apology and regret.

A chopper, positively identified as TC's, was down somewhere off Pakua Point, but the coast guard couldn't begin a search until after the storm went through. When Higgins inquired about the severity of the crash, he got the same answer; the storm was hindering any rescue attempts the coast guard might be able to launch.

Higgins felt a little shaky, but calmly thanked the man. He had remembered Magnum's earlier call, how Thomas had broken the news that he had broken the Club's yacht, and Higgins had been understandably furious. He had hardly listened to Magnum stutter some groundless excuses and promises of financial reimbursement, and only just barely recalled Magnum saying something about he and Rick riding back with TC. Now, with that in mind, Higgins was much more worried than he was - or had been - angry.

Higgins contemplated his options as he made his way to the study. As he passed the main door, he saw the thrashing palm trees outside. His options, he realized, were slim to none. The storm had already made landfall on this side of the island, and it was such a gigantic mass of clouds that it wouldn't be dissipating anytime soon.

In the study, Higgins cleared his desk and turned on the lamp, fishing out his nautical and topographical maps. If he could determine where exactly the chopper had gone down, then the coast guard could narrow their search area and maybe send in someone before the end of the storm. He hoped precise information would be helpful to the coast guard - he truly wanted to believe it, because he was worried and feeling helpless.

The buzzer went off, breaking Higgin's concentration on the maps. He went to the intercom and hit the button.

"Yes?"

"Hello, Higgins. This is Lt. Tanaka - can I come in?"

Higgins wanted to tell Tanaka to leave because Magnum was not home. But perhaps Tanaka could help, and Higgins was wondering about anything to make Tanaka drive out here during the onset of such a storm. He opened the gate from the panel, and as he was heading to the front door he heard Tanaka exclaim "Thanks!" in his ever-cheerful voice.

Higgins opened the door and let Tanaka in, offering him a drink.

"No thank you, I'm on duty."

"On duty? My God, man - there's a bloody bad storm outside. What could be so important to risk driving in this weather?"

"Well, Higgins, I'll tell you. There's a very important murder case tomorrow morning, and Magnum forgot to give me his statement in writing. Without it, the murderer will probably go free on a technicality or lack of evidence." Tanaka followed Higgins back into the study, where he spotted the maps on the desk.

"What're you working on, Higgins?" It was merely professional curiosity. He was paid to be nosy, and he couldn't help but notice the map folded so that Pakua Point was almost directly centered.

"I was about to get to that. I've just received some disturbing and worrying news from the coast guard - TC's chopper, with Magnum and Rick aboard, went down someplace near Pakua Point. Someone saw the helicopter heading that way, and it looked as though it were having trouble. And now, no one is answering TC's call sign."

"Near Pakua Point!" Tanaka exclaimed. "Boy, Magnum just never catches a break."

"Quite. Why the exclamation? Is something wrong?"

"We got an anonymous tip, two escaped convicts are known to be hiding out on an island near Pakua Point. We're going to go pick them up as soon as the storm dies down - if they live through it." Tanaka looked troubled.

"Please, Lieutenant, this is not a time for games and jokes." Higgins wasn't sure whether Tanaka was pulling his leg or not, but the man seemed serious enough. Another piece of bad news.

"No, sir," Tanaka replied, tugging his Tigers cap tighter onto his head. "If Magnum, Rick, and TC are alright, they'll have more than mosquito bites to worry about."

-------

"Ouch... Jeez, these mosquitoes are gonna eat us alive!" TC complained, brushing one of the little bloodsuckers off his arm in disgust.

"Relax, TC," Magnum said, slapping and killing a mosquito on his own neck. He turned to Rick, who was asleep, or perhaps unconscious. Blood, seeping through the T-shirt, had obviously attracted them, and Magnum was trying to keep himself from being bitten up and keep them away from Rick at the same time.

TC was up, pacing around, as Magnum tried to rest his leg. "We've got to find some shelter," He said, looking up at the blackish clouds that now blotted much of their view of the pacific blue sky.

A particularly persistent little bugger kept landing on Rick's bad arm, and Magnum swiped it away gently. He continued, "We have to find some kind of shelter. When the storm hits, this place is gonna be hell, and we need a fire. Rick's getting worse."

"Okay, man. Let's move inland and see what we find. I got the radio, can you carry Rick?"

"I have before," Magnum said simply.

TC shouldered the radio, adjusting the strap. He shot Magnum a look, and could tell the thing on his mind was on Magnum's as well. This reminded both of them of 'Nam, crawling through the underbrush, getting shot at, having wounded friends and knowing there was so little they could do for them. It was about doing whatever they had to do to survive.

They had only been hiking a few minutes when TC spotted what looked like a manmade trail through the vegetation. He pointed it out, and Magnum quickly agreed to follow it, but cautiously. His leg was much better already, he had to admit - it was only dragging slightly, a result of the additional body weight of another person.

A little while and several stumbles later, TC stopped and held up a hand, pointing to his front.

"Hey, Thomas, I see something."

"What? Where?" Magnum had Rick balanced over his shoulder, holding him almost as one would a small child.

"Straight ahead, in a sort of clearing. It's like a cabin or something. Follow me."

"Alright," Magnum said, then lowered his voice. "Hang on, Rick," he whispered, as he shifted

Rick's weight on his shoulders.

TC paused again at the edge of the clearing. Magnum stood behind him, and said, "TC, my .45's in my belt. Get it out and..."

"I know."

"Be careful - this place isn't exactly a major population center or tourist destination. Whoever's in there probably wants to be left alone."

TC nodded and made his way quickly over to the door. It was a flimsy piece of wood, no more than a half inch thick, and had large screens above and below the knob. There was no interior door. He was about to kick the door in, when he tried the dingy metal handle. The portal swung open with a lot of creaky moaning noise, squealing on its hinges. TC went in gun barrel first, sweeping the room, but didn't find anyone inside. He stepped back out onto the concrete slab in front of the door and motioned to Magnum, who hurried over with Rick.

Inside, the cabin was fairly sparse, but Magnum and TC had certainly seen worse. There wasn't much furniture, a big heavy table and an ancient, sagging couch, and empty brick fireplace.

TC gave the place the once-over as Magnum laid Rick down gently by the fireplace. "Nobody's been around - in here, at least - for awhile. No indoor plumbing, either. Probably some kind of outhouse in the back."

"Why's it even here?" Magnum wondered, looking at the fireplace. There was some old, dried wood - who knew how long it had been there. Magnum had learned long ago, however, to never look a gift horse in the mouth.

"Who knows? Maybe this was some kind of rich guy's private getaway. The uninhabited islands are full of places like this, secret little places nobody knew about, even after the owner passed away. So they fall into disrepair."