I do not own Hawaii Five-0 or any characters. No copyright infringement intended.
Notes: the Oahu airports in this chapter actually do exist; the brief description of a possible layout is contrived.
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CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
It was perhaps the oldest scam in the book and its mere thought was even cliché. Having taken advantage of his general age and though he was extremely hale and hearty, Doctor Franklin Ray faked a heart attack. Not just any attack, but a mind-numbing, back-breaking, face slamming seizure of a humdinger right in the middle of a men's lavatory in the courthouse.
Having never done something like this before, Ray had no actual hopes that his ploy would truly work. But he had nothing to lose and as the blue skies peeked so happily above his sneakily slit eyes from the gurney, he struck. It made no matter that his one wrist was attached to the gurney's side rail, nor that he was still in the courthouse's rear parking lot. He smiled when he considered the number of armed officers which were inside the fine legal establishment. The point was that he simply was NOT and that only made the flowery scent of fresh air and freedom much too enticing; especially when his eyes settled on the dot of a distant airplane cavorting between two white fluffy clouds.
Just being placed inside the ambulance, the gurney was still moving when there was a single grunt from the EMT whom Ray hammered ruthlessly in the center of his throat. The solid crack was delivered by a strong flat of hand and just below the poor man's Adam's apple. The strike made cartilage fracture in several places, instantly causing significant damage to the trachea.
Franklin's second blow took down the EMT's partner with a Rocky Balboa-like blow to the temple. There was never a doubt that Franklin Ray was physically strong and fit, he simply rarely needed to use that strength publicly. He also had just enough knowledge of the human body to be a lethal threat. Having dispatched two of his three foes in seconds, he likened his speed and sense of timing to his favorite cobra.
The one attending HPD officer had been following lazily behind the medical team. With an eye towards the rear door of the courthouse, he was patiently waiting for his partner to catch up from his own bio-break in the public bathrooms before they planned to follow the ambulance to the hospital. From his limited view, the officer saw the second EMT stumble while settling the gurney in place and simply trotted forward with an outstretched hand to help.
Still attached by one wrist and with the lone intravenous line slowly being ripped from his skin, Ray tore off the oxygen mask while swinging purposefully off the gurney. By then, he was just waiting for his final target and he simply reacted with a well-placed kick to the approaching officer's chin. Teeth were drive upwards though tongue and a soft lip. The spray of blood was instantaneous as the officer flew backwards two feet onto his back. A solid thud of unprotected cranium to pavement finished the rest.
Ray never stopped moving as he partially dragged the gurney to rock balanced on the ambulance's bumper to fumble through the officer's pockets for the keys to his handcuffs after shoving the police issued revolver into the front of his orange pants.
He scored quickly, all the while blaming his blindingly good luck on the fact he simply hadn't thought his ridiculous little plan would work and so, maintained zero expectations.
Being suddenly free though made time an issue and he needed a better plan. One and a half of his three victims were in the ambulance and he laughed in glee as he slammed the teetering gurney back into place. The second EMT had fallen half in and half out of the vehicle in a parody of a slouched stance. Practically one-handed, Ray physically lifted him up and onto the gurney he'd just vacated barely glancing at the man's heinously injured partner who was only partially conscious while gurgling alarmingly on his own blood and gore.
"Shall we officer?" Ray snarled with a new vengeance as real freedom became a genuine possibility. Stealing an ambulance was folly, a word he greatly loved to use. However and with another glance towards the vividly blue skies, Ray needed to steal time now, even if it were just five additional small minutes. Hauling the unconscious officer over his shoulder, Ray stumbled under the weight as he pushed the man into the back and slammed the doors shut.
Gaining the driver's seat, he knew the keys would be there in the ignition just waiting for someone to use them. So after that, his only question became … why not him?
Sirens screaming, Ray drove like madman through the streets of downtown to gain distance until he suddenly silenced the vehicle and backed purposefully off the gas. He tooled along quietly in the right hand lane of the highway dutifully maintaining the speed limit as he planned his next move.
He had hostages; but didn't want the baggage. Plus, he had learned a long time ago never to hesitate because one split second of doubt caused death.
Smiling he nodded in self-agreement as he took the next exit. Parking in a heavily treed lot, he slapped a bandage over the bloody hole in his arm from the IV. Then he tore off his orange jumpsuit to borrow clothes from each of the paramedics. Nothing actually fit, but wallets were soon emptied of cash and credit cards. Looking just good enough to pass muster, Franklin Ray walked away with a brisk purpose towards the first taxi he spied.
He wanted Riku and his friendly employee was never far from his mind. Nevertheless, he needed to leave … he needed to flee the island and its inhabitants which had taken not only Riku, but his children from him.
Now there was only one place which appeared sweetly in his mind's eye and he laughed out loud as he slid easily into the taxi. His beloved airplane was parked in a private hangar at Dillingham Field and no doubt under lock and key. However, wealthy men had wealthy friends. His own lawyer had worked diligently to keep his name and case out of the news and below the proverbial radar. Initial reports were squashed quickly and doused before the media could make his name a household sensation. Ray had enough faith anyway to believe that those in his usual circles were likely unaware of his fate regardless. Simply put, his circle was a selfish, egotistical bunch only interested in foreign futures and those global occurrences that might affect their own crater-like pockets.
Unless genuinely related to the weather, the local news was simply of no interest to them.
"Where to?" The dark-haired driver was a transplant based on a heavy Bostonian accent. Someone permanently escaping New England winters and Franklin barely paid attention as he casually lounged sideways in the backseat.
"Kalaeloa Airport. Use the executive entrance on the east side." His kind also gathered at certain places, especially those with such particular hobbies such as flying. He had acquaintances to call upon and ways to blend amongst his peers to create more time to garner a way off the islands.
Private planes were kept on the executive side of the airport in private hangars under a far different level of security corresponding more to those at a private club. Manifests were kept but could be altered because things were simply easier. People had their secrets, some of which were as significant as Franklin Ray's own. So in other words while the airport was secure, it was undeniably different.
Plus, someone of import was always coming in from somewhere or making plans to travel somewhere else on the scantiest of whims. He had money, the means and the connections; once more, he merely needed the luck of good timing in a rapidly moving sequence of baby steps.
Determined to obtain his freedom so he could rebuild his life and salvage his den, Ray smirked as he slouched down more in the back of the old taxi. His eyes narrowed suspiciously as he watched two HPD cruisers pass them at incredible speed in the opposite direction.
"Wow! They're moving wicked fast!" He noticed then that his driver was also very young, possibly even a college kid earning a few extra dollars and Ray rolled his eyes somewhat patiently. The remark was made with an obvious excitement while ducking his head this way and that for a better look. The taxi slowed and then weaved slightly as the driver lost momentary control. Not seeming to mind the minor blips, he finally resorted to staring avidly in the rear view mirror. "I wonder what that's all about! Must be a bad accident or something."
"I'm sure I have no idea," Ray drawled calmly with an abstract wave of his hand to push the driver's attention back to where it should be which was on the road. "If you don't mind I have an urgent meeting."
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"What do you mean he got away?" Incredulous, Danny was sitting much more calmly in his hospital bed. The lights were still dimmed though and his wounded hand remained splinted and cradled in his lap. The team had managed to keep the news on the down-low for quite some time after Danny's bandages had been removed, but he had pressed them sensing their combined moods. "How can that even happen? And for that matter, why are you all here when you should be out there?"
The three had run through the scenario multiple times amongst themselves in the hallway and not one of them could quite believe how it had happened. Their re-telling to Danny yielded an identical response, but Steve had had more than a sufficient recap of the distasteful subject matter. As for not joining the hunt, Lukela had it well in hand for the time being and Five-0 decided that staying nearer Riku Bhandari was the wiser choice. The other reason to validate their somewhat non-participation sat squarely in front of them in a hospital bed and not a single team member felt the urge to do more.
"In case there's trouble, HPD has a unit at the Ramirez' home and another at the clinic. Duke's got it under control, Danny," Chin lobbed the ultimatum firmly. Arms folded and almost petulant, he pointed towards the ceiling indicating a room just above where they currently gathered. "Besides, the hospital is moving Bhandari down to this floor so we can keep an eye on him. We have no idea what Franklin Ray is going to do next ... once they settle his man, we plan to interrogate him right here."
Checking her watch casually, Kono even grinned. "And that will be any minute now. Bhandari may have some information that we could coax out and pass over to Duke. Besides, the airports and docks are covered ... we can do better here."
Growling under his breath, Steve allowed the conversation to drone on about Bhandari, Ray and what HPD was now well-immeresed in managing. He listened quietly while Kono described the three injured men and how they'd been discovered moments after Ray had abandoned the ambulance in a parking lot. The first EMT was barely alive with significant damage done to his trachea and vocal cords. The second had nothing more than a bad concussion, but the HPD officer not only suffered a fractured jaw and skull, he would eventually also need significant dental reconstructive surgery. The philanthropist was as dangerous as the reptiles he so loved and as Steve watched his sick partner tiredly wilt in front of them all, he'd had enough and bluntly said so.
"Enough. Just … enough for now. Let HPD deal with Ray." It was he who now verbally demanded a permanent halt to the conversation. While the cousins simply accepted Danny's continued interest in Ray, Steve knew that Danny was already choosing to hide back in the familiarity of his work. Worried about his friend's well-being, Franklin Ray was merely a very dangerous excuse.
Astonishingly, Steve didn't want to discuss Franklin Ray, Riku Bhandari, any of the murdered victims, or Duke Lukela's current tribulations with any one member of Five-0. Mentally exhausted and concerned about his team, he was beyond relieved that Danny's eyes were healing, but Steve still had yet to smile. He also recognized that Chin and Kono were as grateful as he was; yet they were all operating on sadly minuscule remnants of adrenalin.
Leaning on his fists at the foot of the bed, Steve blatantly stared into his partner's face and studied the continual half-lidded squint. Though the sensitive skin around his eyes was redly irritated, the rest of his face remained pale and there was a certain slouch to his shoulders. Softly splinted, Danny rested his swollen and discolored arm protectively in his lap. On steroids for other symptoms, the same drugs would inhibit his hand from healing well and so, the doctors were continually worried about infection and cellular breakdown. The wound was checked multiple times a day to ensure it remained well protected and dressed appropriately with antimicrobial silver to promote healing.
It was obvious that he hurt inside and out, and was experiencing an adrenalin dump of sorts post-examination despite its success. Prone to headaches, stomach cramps and even nausea, Danny was certainly not well after a basic removal of a wad of bandages. Despite the recent engaging conversation, based upon posture alone Steve easily guessed at least a headache was beginning to tighten its grip.
"I want to know how you are. I want to know if you're okay." The questions were more than fair. Danny's injuries had been downright terrifying for each member of the close-knit team. If he couldn't do it, Steve knew for certain that there was no way for Danny to so blithely move on from hours' worth of such anxiety to wanting to discuss Doctor Franklin Ray. Only Steve knew the depths of the old nightmares and he alluded to them in his question as well. His pointed look drove it all home and Steve watched closely as Danny began to pick at the bedding with his left hand.
Squinting cautiously back at Steve, Danny instantly quieted. Was he fine? Considering the loaded questions, Danny honestly wasn't sure. Physically, his eyes ached and he did have a headache blossoming once more after the afternoon's tension with Doctor Parnell. But there was that other issue of an old bad dream or two, and he had to fight to school his expression. He blamed his sickness and strong medications on the lack of terrifying nightmares but prayed they were indeed gone. His more recent flashbacks were of the very real Rhinkals cobra lunging at his face ... which was certainly bad enough. He didn't miss nor need the addition of disembodied screams or visions of frightened horses in musty stables.
But was he fine? Danny felt Steve's eyes boring directly through to him and still couldn't find an answer. Maybe; because even the memories of the real physical pain were fading, along with brokenly remembered snippets of an ambulance, anonymous faces, rushed voices, and the hectic pace of the emergency room. He was better but also not quite better.
Impatient for an answer, Steve shifted at the foot of the bed and Danny looked up from his pensive thoughts. Steve's fingers were now splayed across the foot board. He was worried, anxious and forcing his voice to remain patently even-toned. "Danno? Seriously ... how are you doing?"
Danny couldn't respond with an obligatory 'I'm fine' or a 'don't worry about me; it's all good', because neither wouldn't fly amongst any of his friends. With such an abrupt change in conversation, Kono was already nervously tapping her thigh with a rolled up magazine. A brief glance to Chin showed that the man hadn't moved much, though now his arms were folded expectantly across his chest. Peering back up to Steve, he envisioned the false calm morphing into a one-hundred and eighty degree verbal tirade. Based upon his fingers bloodless grip, he might even break the bed's over-used frame. Yet, Danny still didn't know what to say.
Sinking deeply backwards into the thin pillow, Danny wound up giving a lame shrug. Steve's eyes narrowed even more, but this time Danny didn't know if it was concern, anger or possibly both. In truth, Danny was only in that moment where he could at least see and now, despite the discouraging unhealthy appearance of his injured hand, he could at least fully believe everything the doctors had been saying about his full recovery. But getting to this one place where he could literally sit upright and see his friends, had been an incredibly frightening and painful feat. He was better but not entirely so.
Wearily, Danny shrugged again before closing his eyes while idly rubbing the aching fingers on his right hand. He didn't know what to say and so, he allowed his silence to be his answer.
~ to be continued ~