AN: I would like to thank my beta for editing this chapter and for my wonderful readers who are reading my story. Also a BIG thank you for those of you who had the time to provide feed back in the form of reviews and PMs. I appreciate every one of them. I have one more update to post prior to Christmas (unless something comes up and I am not able to hop on to the internet to tell you) then I will continue my updates after Christmas. For details, please see my profile page in the lower section, where I will endeavor to post news on story updates. I hope you enjoy...

Chapter 17

SFPD, Bureau of Inspectors, 850 Bryant Street, San Francisco, 1972

McGarrett stood with his back flat against the wall and arms crossed in front of him in the interrogation room of SFPD. Lieutenant Mike Stone sat in the seat opposite Ramon Cardenas in the center of the room with a table separating them.

"Four years on the force huh? Such a waste. Such a terrible waste. You really could've been something you know. The Captain says you were up for promotion next fall. I guess he'll be reconsidering now." Stone shook his head slowly as he voiced the deep disappointment and regret he felt for Cardenas's life choices.

"I have nothing to say until my lawyer is present, Mike, so save the lecture. I'm done listening to you." Cardenas replied bitterly.

"Maybe you're done listening, but we're not done talking and I believe you'll find there will be much to say when your good lawyer arrives. That is, unless you're pleading guilty for your actions, in which case the only thing you have going for you is the court's leniency." McGarrett reprimanded as he walked towards the table then stopped and glared at Cardenas.

"What are you? Some big shot detective from Hawaii? Let me tell you something, San Francisco is not some tropical paradise like that little island you flew from. Not everything is black and white!" Cardenas uttered in McGarrett's direction.

"Are you finished?" The tall detective said coolly. When no answer was forthcoming, he continued, "I've seen things in my tropical paradise that would make the hardest of men break. So spare me the platitudes, Cardenas! You're right, not everything is black and white. We all know the world is filled with shades of grey. We're not talking about that! We're talking about the lives of young people being wasted, day in, day out. And for what?" McGarrett drilled. "For standing on the wrong street corner? Or giving some guy a look he doesn't like? Some of these kids are barely old enough to shave, let alone buy a gun and fire it into another human being. It's our job to protect them! Our job to save them!"

"I have the right to remain silent." Cardenas replied, barely audibly, turning his face away from both McGarrett and Stone.

Sighing, Stone pushed his chair back and rose from it. Giving Cardenas one last, long look of hopelessness, the Lieutenant motioned for the detective to follow him out of the room.

Once outside, Stone closed the door and said quietly, "Let him sleep on it tonight in his cell. He might feel differently tomorrow. We can leave the questions until then. Besides, we could all use a good night's sleep, especially you!"

"Yeah, you're right. I want to be up early to see how Danny's doing."

"You sure care a lot about him."

"We've been through a lot together." McGarrett answered, meeting Stone's gentle gaze. For some reason that McGarrett couldn't comprehend, he felt at ease sharing his feelings with Stone where Dan was concerned. Something, that although anyone who knew them could see, McGarrett kept a low profile on. He was a man who always strived to keep his innermost emotions well hidden from the public eye.

Stone nodded, as a silent understanding passed between the two seasoned cops and together they called it a night.

...

General Hospital, Potrero Avenue, San Francisco, 1972

Dan Williams tossed and turned, his body bathed in a cold sweat as he relived a vivid nightmare.

He was running down the deserted hallway, his shoes slip sliding on the polished floorboards. He'd been searching for something in a room, but the image of the room was nothing but a blur. He rounded a corner then opened the door. It was dark. He was outside and the street was devoid of traffic and people. He heard hurried footsteps behind him and he had taken off again. Down the street he ran, then he ducked into an alleyway. Trying to control his breathing, Dan reached down and pulled out a small silver pistol from an ankle holster. Then, pressing himself flat against the wall, he peered around the corner of the brick wall to catch a glimpse of his apparent pursuer. A trash can fell behind him and he turned around abruptly, holding his gun out ahead of him. His heart pounded and perspiration coated his face. A stray cat, dark as night, the culprit of the cacophony, hissed then slunk into the shadows. Suddenly Dan felt a presence behind him. He turned on his heel quickly but not quick enough. Something hard crashed against the side of his head. The pain was unforgiving but sheer darkness greeted him as he felt himself falling and drifting all at the same time.

Dan sat straight up, jolted by the events enfolding in his dream state. He gripped the linen sheets tightly in his hands and panted like he'd been on a long run. Running his fingers through his damp curls, he brought his hands over his face and wiped away the sweat. He winced in pain as he disturbed the bandage covering the still raw wound beneath. The bruise high up on his cheek bone gave a painful twinge. As he dropped his arms back down, more pain shot up his right arm. Feeling in the dark with fumbling and trembling fingers, he realized he had tugged at the IV needle. Relieved it was still embedded in his flesh, he took a deep, ragged breath and let it out slowly, trying to regain a steady rhythm. He thought about the dream once again and of the questions that had been plaguing him since he first regained consciousness. Who was he? What was he searching for in that room in the dream? Who had jumped him in the alley?