AN: Once again, thank you for reading!

(Beta read)

Chapter 13

Residence of Officer Ramon Cardenas, Folsom Street, San Francisco, 1972

Stone could sense Cardenas was studying him but if he was perturbed by it, he didn't let it show. "Steve and I found something interesting today in an apartment that was rented by Johnny Barker. I thought you'd like to know since you were working on the crime scene yesterday morning."

"Johnny Barker?" Cardenas raised his brows, falsely oblivious.

"The John Doe we found in the alley off Montgomery. Ring any bells, Ramon?" Stone persisted.

Feigning to be racking his brain, Cardenas then replied, "Yeah I remember. The kid that got shot-up?"

"That's the one. You mind telling me what your telephone number was doing in Barker's apartment?" Not wishing to waste anymore time, Stone cut right to the heart of the matter.

"What are you talking about, Mike? How could my number end up there?" Cardenas scoffed.

"You tell me, Ramon. You tell me."

"Sorry, Mike, but I really don't know what to say. But I'm getting this feeling you didn't come here to pass on information about the investigation. You came here to get information which I don't have! Are you saying I'm involved in some kid's murder?" Ramon rose from his sitting position, growing more nervous by the minute. "Look, I'm expecting guests tonight, so I really don't have time for this!"

"Sit down Ramon. I'm not finished! Now, we can either do this here or at the station. Which will it be?" Stone was done playing good cop. He stayed seated on the recliner in a semi-relaxed position, all the while paying close attention to Cardenas's movements.

"I don't believe this!" Cardenas threw his hands up in the air then took a deep breath to steady himself before returning to the sofa.

"You're telling me you don't know how or why your number came to be in the possession of Johnny Barker? Is that correct?" Stone continued with his questioning.

"That's right. Obviously somebody planted it there to set me up, though I have the faintest idea why!" Cardenas retorted.

"Okay. Okay, let's say that I believe you. Would you help sort this mess up by coming down to the station and signing a statement to that affect?" Stone asked, warily.

"Sure Mike! But not today, I told you I have guests coming. I won't have time to - "

"You're going to have to make time, Ramon! This is a murder investigation not some hot-shot taking a car for a joy ride!" Stone cut in, as he grew impatient.

"Look, I'll stop by at the station first thing in the morning. So you found my phone number in Barker's apartment. So what? Maybe someone's holding a grudge on me for a bust, hell, I don't know, Mike!" Agitated, Cardenas flared up at once and stood up.

"So what? You're telling me you're not the least bit worried that someone set you up? Oh come on, I don't buy that! Not for a second!" Stone, this time, also climbed to his feet.

"Look, I don't have time for this! Unless you want to arrest me, Mike, I suggest you leave." Cardenas lowered his voice dangerously and pointed at the front door, his dark eyes blazing like hot coals.

Stone sighed and continued toward the front door. When he felt Cardenas following close behind, he turned around and said, "One more thing. If you can think of any reason why someone would want to connect you with Barker's murder, call me. I'll be at General Hospital. Williams has regained consciousness. Steve and McGarrett are with him now. It looks like he'll be able to tell us something, after all."

Cardenas said nothing but swallowed and continued to see Stone to the door. A nerve in his cheek twitched and Stone's gut told him Cardenas knew a lot more than he was willing to share. Williams' identity was not known to anyone outside of selected hospital staff including Dr Moore, SFPD Captain Olsen, Inspectors Tanner, Keller and himself. No one else in their unit knew and it worried Stone that Cardenas showed no surprise when he referred to the detective by his name rather than that of his undercover persona, Wilcox.

…..

General Hospital, Potrero Avenue, San Francisco, 1972

Entering the ICU ward, McGarrett was a little relieved to find Dan propped up against his pillows, in a semi sitting position. There were tubes snaking up one of his arms and his eyes had a far-away look about them that made the lead Five-O detective feel uneasy. "Danno." McGarrett began then stopped himself when he realized he'd just called his second in command by the nick name he had given him. "How are you feeling?"

"Confused. My head hurts, but at least the room stopped spinning." Dan answered in a semi-detached voice.

"Well, you sound a little better today, my friend." McGarrett forced a small smile to appear on his weary face as he pulled up a chair and sat down. "Dr Fleming said I could see you for a little while. He'll be back soon so I can't stay long."

Dan nodded and looked away at the window as if the curtains suddenly warranted his attention. McGarrett shifted in his chair uncomfortably. What does one say at a time like this? He doesn't even know my name!

"Dr Moore says you're my boss in Hawaii." Still not meeting McGarrett's gaze, Dan broke the silence first.

"That's right." Steve replied softly. What he really wanted to say was, I was more than just your boss, Danno, but he was forewarned by Dr Moore from revealing too much, too soon.

"And I was your second in command for a unit called Five-O?" Dan at last turned to face McGarrett.

"You remember?" McGarrett asked hopefully.

"No, Dr Moore told me." Dan could see the spark in the older man's eyes go out, as his hopes of Dan's memory returning was dashed. "I'm sorry, I'm trying to remember. I keep going over the information I was given in my head, but I still can't remember."

"It'll come to you. Just take your time. Let yourself heal." McGarrett looked Dan in the eyes as he spoke to him. Nothing. No hint of recognition. No Danno. Just a man lost.

"I keep telling myself that too. Do I have family in Hawaii? I don't want to worry them."

"No. You have an aunt who lives in New York. I haven't called her yet." McGarrett felt a twinge of guilt in the pit of his stomach for delaying the phone call.

"Don't. Please don't call her. Don't tell her I'm here. I can't put my family through this. I'm not dying and it's bad enough you have to see me like this." Dan reached for McGarrett's arm and grasped it as he pleaded. The head of Five-O took a painful swallow when he realized just how weak the young man was. He barely felt the grip on his arm tighten and his skin was so cold to the touch, he could feel the coolness through his suit jacket.

"Okay, Danny, but if you don't get better soon, she has the right to know." McGarrett felt his throat constrict as the words left his lips. He glanced down as Dan removed his grip from his arm and allowed his hand to rest on the bed sheet by his side again. "Only then. Promise me!"

"You have my word."

"Good. Thank you." Dan closed his eyes and lay back against the pillows, worn out by his efforts.

"Danny, I want you to know something. I'm going to help you get through this any way I can. I won't rest until you get your memory back. That's a promise. I'll never give up on you. Remember that." McGarrett waited for Dan's response but he could already see the steady rise and fall of the young man's chest indicating he had fallen asleep. "Because you mean…" The detective clenched his fist and brought it up to his lips. Squeezing his eyes shut against the burning sensation behind them, he bit down hard against his knuckles to keep a cry from escaping deep within him.