A/N: A really short chapter to introduce the next storyline . . . more soon!

#*#*#*#*#

There were balloons and malasadas on Danny's desk when he returned to work two weeks after the shooting on the docks.

"I'm saying, I rarely got to drive my own car, even before you got me shot. Again," Danny said, as he and Steve stepped off the elevator.

"How was you getting shot my fault?" Steve demanded.

"It just was," Danny said.

"I told you, ask Rebecca out on a date," Steve said, grinning. "Specifically, I remember saying, 'Don't get shot so that you can spend time with the pretty nurse'. But did you listen? No."

Danny opened his mouth to argue more, and then stopped. "Worth it," he said, smiling.

"Yeah, sure - wait, what? Really?" Steve asked.

"Steve, you might have to share that Smooth Dog nickname," Kono teased, coming out of her office to give Danny a gentle hug. "Welcome back, Danny."

Chin joined them, shaking Danny's hand. "We are glad to see you. It's not the same, sharing files over a laptop."

Danny gestured to the room at large. "What's going on? What's this I hear about the bodies from the dock being declared a cold case?"

"Happened this morning," Steve sighed. "Direct order from the governor. We don't have any more solid leads, and we've hit dead ends with everything we do have. He flat out turned down my request to fly Riley to the monastery to interview the monks; and threatened to suspend all of you without pay if I took any personal leave."

"He's picked up quickly," Chin commented.

"So we are left with the theory that these guys were either acting under Joe's previous arrangement as Kkangpae, to try to protect Riley, or that there's a brewing gang war with the Yakuza and the Kkangpae?" Danny asked.

"Those are the two most plausible scenarios," Steve said. "If it weren't for the monastery ink, you could convince me that it's not related to Riley. But with that . . . "

"Yeah, I can't see how that's a coincidence," Danny said. "So why this morning?"

"New case," Steve said, turning to the smart table. "We have two tourists who woke up this morning without kidneys."

"That does not sound like a good part of a spa package," Danny said.

#*#*#*#*#

"We are sincerely sorry for what has happened," Steve said, sitting beside the bed of a young woman. She was pale, her dark hair and eyelashes accentuating the pallor of her skin as she sat, propped awkwardly by pillows, in the hospital bed. "We're going to do everything we possibly can to find who is responsible for this."

"There was another person," she said. "I think . . . I thought I could hear another person."

"You did," Danny said. "They are also in the hospital. Did you know each other, meet each other at any point?" He held out his phone, displaying a picture of the other victim.

"No," she said, shaking her head. "He doesn't look familiar at all."

"Our people are checking to see if your paths crossed; maybe you stayed at the same hotel, came in on the same flight . . . if something does come to mind, though, will you let us know?" Steve asked. Danny handed her a card. They'd discovered that victims seemed to call more often when the card read Detective Williams as opposed to Lieutenant Commander Steven McGarrett.

"I will," she said.

"And in the meantime, we are going to keep an officer outside your room, twenty-four seven," Danny assured her. "We have no reason to think that whoever did this is going to come back, but we want you to feel safe."

"Thank you. Are you okay?" she added, gesturing to Danny's sling.

"Unrelated injury," Danny said. "I'm fine, thank you."

They headed for the elevator. "Nothing to add to the first witness," Steve sighed. "No memory of being taken, only vague impressions of what was happening, unconscious when they were found . . . absolutely nothing to go on."

"Bad for the case, better for the victims," Danny observed. "Can you imagine, knowing that was happening to you?"

"True," Steve nodded. "Denning is already all over us on this - getting abducted and having organs removed really doesn't read well on the travel brochures."

"Well, maybe Chin and Kono will have some leads," Danny offered optimistically.

#*#*#*#*#

"If this were a Venn diagram, the circles would be on opposite sides of the room," Kono sighed. "Nothing in common. Absolutely nothing."

"Well, except for being found in alleys, unconscious, missing an organ," Danny pointed out. "CCTV, security, anything from those locations?"

"Nothing," Chin said. "Whoever dumped the bodies definitely did their homework. These are barely more than kiosks; so, no security to speak of."

"Tourists, dumped in a tourist shopping area . . ." Steve mused.

"Yeah, are you thinking local?" Chin asked. "Knows the area intimately enough to know that there's no security, maybe has a beef with tourists - choosing them as victims, making a statement by dumping the bodies in a place that caters to tourists?"

"It would make sense," Steve said. "So, maybe selling the organs to make crime pay, but choosing the victims to make a more personal statement?"

"There's a terrifying logic to it," Danny said. "If we can't get any leads from the victims, what about the organs?"

Steve nodded. "Let's go talk to Max."

#*#*#*#*#

"Based on the surgeon's report," Max said, as they stood in his small office, "the kidneys were removed with a great deal of skill. Minimal blood loss, minimal scarring. The patients are expected to make a full recovery."

"But with one kidney," Danny said, grimacing.

"True. As long as they don't suffer a traumatic injury or develop kidney disease, they should be fine," Max amended. "You know, in some countries, people are allowed to choose to sell their organs."

"Their body, their choice," Kono murmured. "Seems a bit extreme, but logical."

"We know there's a market for organs," Steve said. "There were rumors, when I was in Naval Intel, of arms traffickers dabbling in human and organ trafficking."

"Organ brokers," Charlie Fong said grimly, as he knocked on the open door of Max's office. "Sadly, becoming more common in impoverished Asian communities. The Philippines, for example."

"Someone looking to expand the market?" Steve asked, crossing his arms. "How do we find out?"

"We search for buyers," Charlie suggested.

"Let's assume those kidneys went somewhere," Steve said. "If the person who took the organs didn't leave a trace, maybe the person who brokered the deal did."

"Or the person who is now using the kidneys," Chin offered, with a shudder.

"It's assuming the kidneys were taken deliberately, not as a diversion," Danny said. "Get us chasing our tails after an organ selling ring, when really it's just a hate crime?"

"That's a fair question," Steve nodded. "But if the kidneys were really removed with such care, I think we need to operate on the assumption that they've been transplanted. Otherwise, why would our perp take so much time and effort?"

"So, no one is going to take out an advertisement in the local Craigslist for buying and selling human organs," Kono said. "Where do we start looking?"

Charlie glanced at Steve. "I have an idea, but I'm not sure you're going to like it."