Chapter 7

"So, what do we have?" Steve asked as he, Danny, Chin, and Kono gathered back in the Five-0 headquarters 45 minutes later.

"The Chì Lóng," Chin replied, flicking a picture of a rusted red and black boat onto the screen. "It's a Chinese freighter based in Shanghai that has a history of making unusually fast runs to Honolulu."

"Just like the Hinuhinu," Steve murmured.

"Exactly," Chin agreed with a nod. "And the similarities don't end there. We pulled all records for the Chì Lóng ." He paused and looked Steve straight in the eye. "It also left port the 17th, the night you went missing."

"Then why didn't we find it earlier?" Steve asked, surprised.

"Clerical error," Kono explained. "The digital records show the Chì Lóng left port on September 17th,, a month before you disappeared. But when we pulled the hard copies of the manifests, it actually left on October 17th. Someone just entered the wrong date."

Steve stood still for a moment, processing. Two boats had left the night he disappeared, making a run between Honolulu and Asia. And one of them had probably taken Steve along for the ride.

"So this could be the freighter," he concluded.

Kono nodded. "Maybe. It's most likely fifty-fifty at this point."

"And we know for sure it has girls on board?" Steve asked.

"Pretty sure," Danny replied. "Their manifest shows they are carrying Styrofoam in addition to raw silk. And today is the eleventh day of their voyage so they are making good time."

That was enough for Steve. "Ok," he nodded. "Let's go get them."

"We will," Danny confirmed as he looked at his watch. "HPD will be here to coordinate in 10 minutes. Steve, can I see you a sec?" he asked, then jerked his head toward his office.

Steve exchanged glances with Chin and Kono, but they looked as curious as he did. He wasn't sure why Danny wanted to see him alone, but as he followed him out the door, he had the sinking feeling he was being sent to the principal's office.

Once inside the office, Danny closed the door. He blew a large breath and clasped his hands before beginning. "You know I want you to come with us tonight, right? That's why I came and got you. Otherwise, I would have just let you drive that old clunker all night until it broke down."

"Yeah…" Steve said, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

And it did.

"I can't let you lead the raid," Danny told him simply.

"What? Why not?" Steve demanded.

"For a lot of reasons. Four of which I can think of off the top of my head."

Steve crossed his arms over his chest. "Such as?"

"For one," Danny said, counting on his fingers as he went, "you haven't been cleared for duty. I've been dodging the Governor's calls all day so he couldn't tell me to sideline you. Immunity and means only go so far and we're pushing it already as it is. Letting you go in first, guns blazing, is just asking for it."

Steve paused. Honestly, he hadn't given the Governor a second's thought. Danny told him the night before he was in Five-0 so that had been good enough for him. Besides, Steve had never been much for rules so this point really didn't bother him at all. Ask forgiveness, not permission had pretty much been his motto. It had worked fine in the past and there was no reason to think it wouldn't work now. He opened his mouth to about to say so but Danny kept speaking.

"Two," Danny continued, "you might be a bit rusty."

"Hey," Steve protested, "I've been firing sidearms and running ops forever. It's just like riding a bike. And you heard the doctor say I've been exercising and taking care of myself. That's a bogus reason and you know it."

"Really?" Danny countered. "It's been 19 months since you've been on a raid, Steve, much less led one. I know you probably have some super-awesome SEAL muscle memory thing going on but this also requires your head to be in the game. It also means we need to know what you're thinking before you say it. And right now, we don't."

"My head's in the game," Steve argued.

"Which leads me to point three," Danny said as he ticked it off on his finger. "You have amnesia."

Steve scoffed. "My long term memory is fine."

"That's true," Danny agreed. "But we are going onto a boat that might be where you were kidnapped and held. And I don't know if you realize this or not but when you have a flashback, you freeze. Completely. And you stay that way for a while. If you do that on the front end of the raid, you're dead. And probably not just you." He pointed to the bullpen. "Chin. Kono. HPD. And need I say me? You're not just putting your life on the line, but all of ours as well."

Steve wanted to have a comeback for that. But even with his take-no-prisoners/break-down-the-door-and-ride-the-motorcycle-up-the-stairs approach to busting criminals, he really did care about the safety of his people, no matter what Danny had said to the contrary on the first day they worked together. So really, he had no comeback. No comeback at all.

But he wasn't ready to concede. Not quite yet.

He chewed his lip as he thought, then looked up. "That was number three. You said there were four reasons."

Danny leaned back against his desk and sighed. He glanced down at the floor for a moment before looking at Steve in the eye. "Don't make me say it."

He didn't have to.

Steve knew what exactly he meant.

Danny was pulling rank.

Or perhaps more accurately, he was trying not to pull rank. But he was doing it nonetheless.

Danny was in command of Five-0 and had been for 19 months. Steve was no longer in charge. And it wasn't his decision to make.

Not anymore.

Steve chewed on his lip some more, his face scrunched up, as he processed. "So, what? You want me to stay on shore and mop up?"

Danny shook his head. "No. I want you in on the raid. But you can't lead. And you can't be one of the first people on the ship. "

Steve frowned.

"Look, Steve. I'm not really happy about it, either," Danny said, sounding genuinely apologetic. "But I have to put the safety of my men first."

It was subtle, and it probably wasn't even intentional, but Steve still caught it.

Danny had said "my" men.

The thing was, yesterday they had been "his" men. Steve's men.

But it hadn't been yesterday. It had been 19 months ago. And whether he liked it or not, times had changed. People had moved on.

Which only left Steve wondering where he fit in now.

And if he even fit in at all.

"So, are we good?" Danny asked, clearly hoping the discussion was over.

No, he wasn't good.

And he wouldn't be good until this was all over—until he knew what happened, until he caught the men responsible, until he brought them to justice.

But that wasn't what Danny was asking. Nor was he asking if Steve was good with him; if they were ok.

That one was easy. They were pretty much always ok. Sure, they might fight but they also had the innate male ability to yell at each other and then go out and grab a few beers fifteen minutes later like nothing had ever happened.

What Danny was really asking was if Steve could accept his position; and more importantly, if Steve would trust him. Trust him to lead the raid, trust him to get it done, trust him to know what was best for everyone involved.

That one was trickier. Because they both knew Steve wasn't happy with his role in the raid. He had always been far better suited to be the quarterback than a benchwarmer and being virtually regaled to third string did not sit well with him. At all.

But Danny was also Steve's partner and best friend; a man who had stuck beside him for better and for even more worse. It wasn't an easy job, that was sure, and Danny never missed an opportunity to complain about it. But all grumbling aside, he had always been there; always supporting Steve even when he wasn't crazy about his decisions.

And Steve would do the same.

So he sighed. And then he nodded.

"Yeah, Danny. We're good."

*H50*

At five minutes before ten o'clock, Kono saw it.

"Right on time," she said, talking into her comm.

"Everybody hold," Danny replied, communicating with not only Five-0 but also with the SWAT team from HPD. A few more black-and-whites as well as two ambulances were on alert three blocks away, their lights off, just waiting for word in case they were needed. In addition, six undercover police officers were already on the dock, playing the parts of dock workers, fishermen, and even a bum.

Steve hunched behind the bushes twenty feet away from the water with Duke Lukela. He had a sneaking suspicion that Danny had tagged the HPD sergeant to keep Steve safe in case he had a flashback on the freighter- a small tidbit of information Danny neglected to share earlier in his office. While Steve wasn't crazy about having a babysitter and thought it was gross overkill, at least he understood. And if he had to be watched over by someone, at least it was Duke.

He watched as the boat slowly approached. From his vantage point, he could see all the officers in play, hiding in the shadows, ready to spring into action once they were given the word. But from the boat, they would be hidden, actually downright invisible.

Steve had to hand it to Danny, the man knew how to run an operation. Not that Steve really ever had any doubts.

Danny had always been a great partner and a great number two. He could stand up to Steve and get through to him like nobody else could. That had been a big change. In the military, men followed orders and wouldn't dream of questioning up the chain of command. But it didn't take long for Steve to realize he was a better leader, and that he had a better team, with Danny there beside him.

Now, it was Chin on point beside Danny as they waited. And it just felt… weird. But he pushed it from his mind in order to focus. He'd told Danny his head would be in the game and Steve wasn't a liar.

Besides, he wanted these men. He wanted them badly.

The boat was now only a few feet from shore. A deckhand on the bow of the Chì Lóng tossed a dock line to the undercover officer, who tied the boat off, tethering the boat to the pier. Steve waited patiently as the captain turned the wheel away from land, allowing the stern to pull in gently. The deckhand tossed another line and the officer tied it onto the bollard, the boat now secure at both ends.

It was time.

"Go," Steve heard Danny say through his earpiece.

He watched as the officer posing as the dock worker quickly jumped aboard, wrapped his hand around the deckhand's mouth from behind and stuck a gun in his side, effectively silencing him.

The deckhand now neutralized, Danny and Chin led the charge onto the Chì Lóng with half a dozen members of the SWAT team. They were followed closely by Kono and a second wave of SWAT members. Five seconds later, it was Steve's turn, as he, Duke, and the other members of the third team made a silent dash for the freighter.

Steve easily jumped the few feet separating the dock from the boat and hit the deck in a dead run. He could hear voices already coming from below- commands for people to get down, the confused shouts of the boat crew, in English, Hawaiian and Mandarin. As he ran down the first flight of stairs, he heard something else.

A gunshot.

Then another. And another.

And then he lost count as a volley of gunfire broke out.

Steve practically leapt down the final four stairs and tore down the hall, his SIG P226 held out in front of him, sweeping with Duke at his back as he went. He heard an echo of "clears", "get downs", and "hand behind your heads" as the members of the first two waves secured the rooms on the first level. But he still didn't' see his team.

He rushed down a second flight of stairs at the end of the hallway, trying to find them. Like on the deck above, he heard a chorus of commands and acknowledgements called out to the other law officers on board. He stepped over two dead boat crew members who were laid out in the hallway, their semi-automatic weapons still in their hands, their blood pooling on the floor.

But still, Steve didn't find his team. He tore down to the stairs to the third and final level, Duke now trailing far behind.

And there, he found them.

He saw Kono first. She was standing in a doorway, holding a gun on an unknown man inside. She nodded once, indicating she was good. So Steve pressed on.

A few doors down, he found Chin securing handcuffs on a man who was lying face down. He also nodded that he was ok.

"Danny?" Steve mouthed, not wanting to be overheard by potential unfriendlies.

"Down the hall," Chin replied, keeping his voice low.

Steve ran out the door and down the hall. He stopped at an intersection and looked both ways, searching for his partner.

There, he found Danny.

And Steve's heart stopped.

Danny was standing completely still, looking through an open doorway down the hallway on the right, his gun lowered.

Steve recovered quickly. He instinctively pulled to the right side of the hallway and silently edged his way down, unsure of who was inside and how many guns they had on his partner. When he got a few feet away, he paused, not wanting to tip the assailants off to his presence.

But it didn't matter. Danny glanced at him, his face completely devastated, giving away any advantage Steve might have had. Then he turned his attention back inside the room.

"It's ok," Danny murmured.

Steve still didn't lower his gun, not believing that his partner would give up so easily.

No matter what Danny said, it was not ok. Seeing his partner, standing there defenseless, fair game for a room-full of thugs with guns, was not ok.

Not ok at all.

Steve slowly edged closer to the door, then cut his eyes sideways to try and get a glimpse inside.

And he realized why Danny told him it was ok.

In fact, he might not have been talking to Steve at all.

Instead, he was probably talking to the terrified young girls, all crammed together in the room like cattle, as they hid their faces and cried.

*H50*

The night sky swirled with red, blue, and white lights. They reflected and danced off the water, creating a scene that would be beautiful if the circumstances that created it weren't so horrific.

After securing the Chì Lóng, Danny called in the ambulances and police cars that were on standby. They immediately swarmed in and then even more were called in from dispatch. The ME's office was also called to come take away the two dead crewmen. Thankfully, none of the police officers were injured during the raid.

Emergency vehicles were stacked three deep up and down the harbor as the cops handcuffed the men on board and brought them up on the deck while the paramedics tended to the girls.

They rescued 17 girls in all. Most were dehydrated and malnourished. All of them were terrified and dirty. It was obvious that the care of the girls was a low priority for the crew of the Chì Lóng.

None of the girls spoke English and most were too traumatized to talk anyway. However, one girl—a bit older, maybe 13- told Steve in broken Mandarin that they were given a small amount of food twice a day. They barely had enough room to lie down to sleep and only had a few old blankets to share amongst themselves. They were only allowed to visit the bathroom across the hall on a schedule and even then, there were men standing guard in the hallway to make sure they didn't try to run away and look for food or hide. To say their living conditions were deplorable was an understatement.

When asked where they came from, the girl told him they were from all over China; some were runaways, some had been kidnapped, and a few had been sold by their families to the traffickers for a pittance and the promise of a better life in America. The only "bright side" to their story was that none of the girls had been sexually assaulted. To an outsider, that would sound like a nice gesture although Steve knew the only reason the girls had not been touched was that "pure" children commanded a higher price. It was out of greed, not kindness, that the girls had been left alone.

When the young girl was finished talking, Steve translated her story to the rest of Five-0. It made all of them sick.

Once all the girls had been escorted to the ambulances and taken to the hospital, Steve began quickly walking through the rooms. He wasn't trying to find evidence from the crime scene; Charlie Fong and the lab techs would be there soon enough to do that. Instead, he was trying to find something familiar, something that would trigger a memory.

Something that would tell him if this was the right boat; if this was where he was held.

He opened every door and peeked in every room, every closet, every corner. And all he had to show for it was… nothing.

And to think, Danny had been worried that Steve might have a flashback during the raid at the most inopportune time. But now here he was, on the freighter, trying to trigger a memory and it simply wasn't working.

The irony might have been funny if it wasn't so annoying.

Steve slammed the final door shut in frustration.

"Still nothing?" Danny asked. He had been walking through the freighter with Steve, watching him become more and more irritated with each passing minute.

Steve shook his head. "No. And I just knew this would be the one."

"Well, the Hinuhinu is scheduled to dock in about 18 hours," Danny said. "We'll be back for it. And we did rescue all the girls."

Steve sighed. "I know. And that's the important thing. It's just…"

"You wanted to catch the guys who kidnapped you," Danny said, completing Steve's thought.

Steve didn't even bother replying. The look on his face said it all.

"Ok," Danny said, clapping Steve on the back and turning him toward the stairs that lead to the deck, "let's go. We can interrogate the crew tomorrow, see what we find out."

They climbed the stairs in silence and then started to make their way across the stern toward the dock. Several of the crew members were still there, seated on the deck facing away from them with their hands cuffed behind their backs, as they awaited their transport to the police station. Steve was looking down at the ground and really wasn't paying attention.

That was, until something caught his eye.

Steve stopped dead in his tracks and stared.

One of the men on the ground had a tattoo on his arm, one of many. It was a red dragon partially obscured by a lotus flower. A red dragon… or, in Mandarin, a Chì Lóng.

Danny noticed his partner's abrupt stop and doubled back. "What is it?" he asked, confused.

Steve didn't reply. Instead, he quickly moved around the line of men until he was standing in front of the man with the tattoo. The man didn't seem to notice at first but then upon seeing Steve's boots, he looked up.

And then he smiled.

It was a surly smile, to be sure, but also one of certainty; one of acquaintance. Somehow, the man knew exactly who Steve was.

And Steve knew him too, although not by his proper name.

Instead, he knew him by his nickname, the one Steve had given him.

Stickers.

To be continued…