Assuming that the rest of the team would arrive at their usual time - holiday notwithstanding, they had four prisoners on the loose - Steve sent a quick text to Grover to reluctantly ask that he bring Danny in, and then to Fred Hart to ask him to bring Jax.
Sorry to cut your time short, but we have information on the case. Is Jax up?
She made us breakfast and is now lacing her boots and looking at her watch. I'll be happy to give her a ride.
Thank you, sir.
No problem, son. She's a keeper. I wish Freddie could have met her.
Yes, sir. Me too.
Chin and Kono arrived next. Steve smiled at the sight of Kono's hair, still damp from an early morning surf - that boded well for her mood for the rest of the day. Marshals Polinski and Shelton came off the elevator soon after, and within a few minutes they were standing with Chin and Kono at the computer console, uploading and sharing files.
The welcome smell of coffee and pastries wafted off the elevator along with Danny and Grover.
"Danno," Steve said, relieving him of a tray of coffees. "Good to see you looking better. Renee must have cooked for you."
"She did, Steven, and her cooking is much, much better than yours, so my days of recuperating at Casa de McGarrett may be numbered," Danny quipped.
"Well, Danny, you know, now that you mention it, it does sort of cramp my style when you're at the house," Steve retorted. It was just too easy; Danny was walking right into this one, and Steve rarely could resist the opportunity. "I mean, Jax and I have to try to be quiet so as not to offend your delicate sensibilities . . . make it all the way upstairs . . . it's kind of a drag."
"You enjoy doing this to me, don't you?"
"Yes, Danny, I do," Steve said, nodding and smiling as he grabbed a coffee.
"Where is our favorite medic, by the way? I'm surprised you let her out of your sight," Danny said.
The elevator dinged, and Steve looked up, a soft smile appearing on his face.
"Ah," Danny said, not even bothering to turn around. "Smitten face . . . Jax must be here."
"I do not have a face," Steve said absently, even as he felt the lines of tension around his eyes relax. He shoved his hands in his pockets, as a reminder that they were at work, so tangling his fingers in Jax's hair and kissing her senseless would have to wait until later.
Danny caught the gesture and rolled his eyes. "Incorrigible, is what you are," he muttered.
"Is that today's word from the calendar?" Steve asked smugly.
"That's every day's word for you, Steve, along with many, many others," Danny sighed. "Okay, let's get this show on the road. While I appreciate the gesture, I'll be glad when Commander Joe White is no longer skulking about my baby girl. It makes me edgy. Let's put these assholes back behind bars where they belong."
#*#*#*#*#
After outlining the BOLOs and alerts that were issued to all local law enforcement, transportation options, and hospitals, the teams started with the file on Sang Min.
"Well, that's . . . wow. He's unique," Marshal Shelton said, incredulously, after Kono briefed the marshals on Five-O's history with Sang Min. "He actually helped your team during the prison riot? Unbelievable."
"As far as threats go, Sang Min is arguably the least likely to threaten the lives and safety of our teams, and the general population," Steve said. "However, he's also the most likely to be able to offer some sort of information on the whereabouts of the other three. So, while his threat risk is relatively low, I'd place tracking him relatively high. He is an opportunist, and will look for any way possible off this island, but his options will be limited. He's recognizable."
"That hair . . . " Jax muttered.
The file for Officer Mahelona was up next. Chin flicked some photos onto the plasma.
"We've worked with Officer Mahelona for years," Chin said. "That's how he was able to convince Captain Grover to entrust him to follow Steve's orders to get Jax out of the building, if possible. In fact, Mahelona was the guard responsible for booking and processing Dillon Rivera in a recent gang-related arrest."
"We read the case file," Caviness said, as his fellow marshals nodded. "Excellent work; despite the unfortunate misconduct of the homeland security agent involved."
"I've pulled every shred of background on Mahelona that I could get my hands on," Chin continued, "and turned up a few interesting pieces of information." He flicked another file onto the screen. Several screen shots of financial statements appeared. "Mahelona has a serious gambling problem; he owes thousands to loan sharks who are affiliated with MS-13."
"Not the Yakuza?" Steve asked in surprise.
Grover shook his head in dismay. "MS-13 is moving in, slowly but surely. Buying up debts is one of their signature moves."
"So he was motivated by money, then," Danny suggested. "Not personal revenge, like Novak."
Chin hesitated. "I hope it's that simple, but . . . Now, this is a stretch, and it even seems a little narcissistic to mention it, but . . . I did cross-reference Mahelona with everyone on the team, and I came up with this." He flicked another file onto the screen. "I didn't remember Mahelona from the academy, but apparently, our paths crossed. We were both in the selection pool for officer training school; I was selected, but he was cut."
"Ouch," Danny said.
"It gets worse, and I don't think this is a stretch," Chin said grimly, pulling another file onto the plasma. Several clippings from the Honolulu Star-Bulletin appeared. "Mahelona has written at least half a dozen letters to the editor over the last five years, vehemently protesting the selection and promotion of female officers in HPD."
"Oh, geez," Kono said, rolling her eyes.
"Check the dates," Chin said, and the team squinted at the files on the screen.
"That one was published the same month I joined Five-O," Kono said quietly.
"And that one," Grover said, pointing at another file, "was published the week that I hired Nolan for SWAT."
"Shit," Jax swore quietly. "No wonder he tazed me."
Danny looked at Chin. "Please tell me Mahelona never applied for SWAT," he said quietly.
Chin shook his head. "Wish I could say that, Danny, but he did, about five years ago. He was turned down. Shortly after that, he quit HPD and went to work as a guard at Halawa."
Caviness picked up on the subtle shift of the Five-O team; the way Steve's hand quietly rested on Jax's waist; the way Danny almost imperceptibly stood closer to her, angling his body between her and the marshals; the tightening of Chin's jaw; the graceful caress of Kono's hand over her Smith & Wesson; and the downturned expression of profound sadness that flickered across Grover's features.
"I'm going to follow up on this later, Commander McGarrett," Caviness said quietly. "If that's okay with you?"
"That's fine, Marshal Caviness," Steve said, clearing his throat quietly against the sudden tightening.
"So we're going to assume that this Officer Mahelona may have tried to take his money and run, or he may yet have a personal axe to grind with Lieutenant Kelly and Officers Kalakaua and Nolan," Marshal Polinski suggested. "Would you all agree?"
A round of nodding and quiet assent indicated that everyone was in agreement with Polinski's solemn assessment.
"He's injured, thanks to Jax and Grover, but we've hit a dead end at all the local hospitals and clinics. If he's getting medical help, it's not going to be on record," Chin continued. "Kamekona and the cousins are keeping eyes and ears open for anything that might be a lead on Sang Min and Mahelona."
"We will, of course, defer to your suggestions and follow your lead on tracking these two," Marshal Caviness said. "But whatever we can do to be of assistance, you'll have our full cooperation. Commander McGarrett, go ahead and catch us up on Declan Novak, if you would."
Steve nodded and flicked a new set of files onto the plasma screen.
"Declan Novak was a primary target when I was working Naval Intelligence. He sold arms to the highest bidder, and didn't care who got caught in the crossfire," Steve began. "He also didn't care about the quality of his goods." He flicked a picture onto the screen, a grainy photo which showed a truck, and several misshapen clumps which only Jax and Caviness recognized immediately as the broken and mutilated bodies of an indeterminate number of soldiers.
It took a moment for the rest of the team to realize what they were looking at.
"Holy shit," Danny murmured, glancing down at Jax when he realized that she'd instantly recognized the image for what it was.
"This was from an RPG that never made it out of the truck; it backfired through the heat shield and breech. There were an estimated four dozen RPGs in that particular shipment; we know there were many injuries and fatalities, but of course there's no way to collect exact data. Novak didn't keep invoices," Steve continued. "It's a wonder he wasn't taken out of commission by some of his customers; but then again, when you can't obtain equipment through legitimate channels, you get what you pay for."
"In addition to his lousy business practices and poor quality merchandise, Novak had a tendency to sell especially to anyone whose interests contradicted those of the United States and its allies," Steve explained. "He seemed to go out of his way to put our soldiers and sailors at a disadvantage, and for a brief time, that's why he was near the top of the list of arms dealers we were trying to take down."
"Until someone even higher up the food chain came on the scene," Kono guessed.
"My team was pulled off to track the Hesse brothers," Steve nodded. "And I think you all know how that ended?" He looked at Caviness, who nodded.
"We've read the case file, Commander, yes," Caviness confirmed. "And we're terribly sorry for your loss associated with that mission."
"Thank you," Steve said, looking down at the table for a moment. "Another team was sent after Novak, and they were good. Using our intel, they closed in and raided his camp. Somehow Novak managed to slip out and evaded Naval Intel. Until he showed up on the island, nabbed by customs, it was assumed he was still at large in Europe or Asia; perhaps operating under a new identity."
"And you don't believe that he was 'nabbed' by customs, is that correct?" Caviness asked.
"Based on the elaborate care with which he set up the Halawa situation? No way. Months of planning went into that; including doing the background work necessary to know which guards to recruit," Chin answered. "He was several steps ahead of us."
"Everything seems to indicate a pre-meditated and well-orchestrated plan," Steve agreed, "except possibly for the fact that he intended my team to go up in the explosion of the prison wing."
"Possibly?" Grover asked, incredulous. "We barely made it out of there."
"Yeah, but if you remember, Novak also claimed that he was going to go up with the building," Steve said. "I don't put it past him to have on some level hoped for more of a cat and mouse game. Everything he said and did in that prison was personal - his goal was to exact revenge on me by hurting my team."
"How pre-meditated, and how personal?" Caviness asked, standing across the table and leveling an open gaze at Steve. There was nothing threatening about his posture or tone, but it was obvious that he was expecting full disclosure.
"He obviously tracked the same information that Chin did, if he knew to recruit Mahelona, which indicates a tremendous investment in planning time," Steve said. "And very, very personal. He made it clear that he wanted to hurt my people himself, starting with Jax. He'd been gathering intel for quite some time. We threw his plan off kilter by getting some of our people out, and he definitely underestimated my team."
"But we'd be foolish to underestimate him," offered Marshal Shelton.
"Yes, absolutely," Steve nodded.
"So, we need to assume that Declan Novak is targeting your team, especially those close to you?" Marshal Polinski offered again. It was obvious that his role in the team of marshals was to objectively assess risk, and he was good at it. "And that would be . . . "
"The entire team," Steve said firmly. "Okay, obviously Jax . . . he knew we had a private relationship . . . but if he knew that, then I think it's safe to assume he knows that Chin was close to my father, that I hand selected Danny as my partner while he was investigating my father's murder, that Kono is Chin's cousin and my first rookie recruit, and that Grover was hand-picked from HPD. We spend time together outside of work, at my home . . . if Novak wants to hurt me by going after my team, he will go after any and all of them." Steve hesitated. "And their families. Which is why I called in some favors for extra eyes and ears. But you should know that part of the reason we're cooperating with the US Marshals on this . . . they're here to evaluate whether or not a recommendation will be made for any members of Five O, or their families, to participate in some level of Witness Protection."
The room fell silent as the rest of the Five O team absorbed that information.
Kono was the first to speak, looking calmly at Marshal Caviness. "And what is your recommendation so far, Marshal?"
"At this point, I'm cautiously optimistic that we won't need to recommend it," he said, meeting her gaze openly. "The sooner we apprehend these people, the better."
"I'm guessing there's another WITSEC connection in all of this," Danny said.
"Yes, you're correct," Caviness answered. He paused and flicked a mugshot onto the screen. "You've read the file on Martin Lassiter. Eleven counts of kidnapping and murder; victims taken from various parts of the islands, their bodies . . . or parts of them, anyway . . . eventually recovered on Kahoolawe." He paused, taking off his jacket and tossing it over a nearby chair.
Without the jacket, and with the emphasis of the shoulder holster, Kono noticed for the first time that Caviness was . . . very nicely put together. She realized she had tuned out when she saw the twinkle in Danny's eye under his slightly raised eyebrows. Willing herself not to blush, she tuned back in to what Caviness was saying.
". . . injuries due to the unexploded ordnance on Kahoolawe, it's possible there could be evidence that was not, despite our best efforts, even recovered. What is not included in any official file is the fact that Lassiter was not successful in all of his kidnapping and murder attempts. There were survivors who testified against him; they and their families are part of WITSEC. Obviously, with Lassiter free, we consider them at incredibly high risk."
"May I ask . . . why isn't the FBI working the Lassiter case?" Danny inquired. "Not that we're complaining."
"The FBI apprehended Lassiter the first time," Marshal Shelton explained, "but at the present, he is an escaped prisoner and a threat to WITSEC participants, and as such, he falls under the jurisdiction of the US Marshal service. If there is reason to believe he has murdered again . . . "
"The FBI steps in," Steve finished. He sighed and scrubbed his hand over his face. "There are eight of us; two still recovering from injuries. We do have the cooperation of HPD, of course, but . . . it could be considered hubris not to ask for the FBI's help."
Caviness nodded, studying Steve. "Or," he said slowly, "it could be considered the better part of prudence to keep our operation small and local . . . Five-O, is, after all, an elite task force, with immunity and means."
A subtle smile spread across Steve's face, and was quickly mirrored on the faces of the rest of the team. "That's true . . . that's true," he said, now grinning broadly at Caviness. "The FBI doesn't have immunity and means."
Caviness started to send some files up to the screen, and then hesitated. "If anyone wanted to break for lunch before we talk more about Lassiter . . . you may not feel like eating afterward."
"No, go ahead," Steve said, as the rest of the team nodded.
"Some of the crime photos you've seen," Caviness continued, as several pictures appeared on the screen. "But some details that would have been known only to the WITSEC participants were withheld from all official files. Lassiter tracked at least some of his victims by cyberstalking; we assume he can, and will, hack into any of our files, given the opportunity. These files are on removable drives only; never uploaded into any data base or transmitted via the internet. Lassiter's victims all had one thing in common - they were native Hawaiians."
Caviness paused as the team stared, horrified, at the plasma screens. Lassiter had obviously tortured his victims while he held them captive, if the pictures were any indication.
"These are evidence photos . . . of the survivors?" Jax asked quietly.
Caviness nodded. "Yes. Even in these photos, their identities are protected."
"What provoked Lassiter?" Chin asked. "What triggered him? The file we read didn't give a definitive answer."
"Because there isn't one, really," Marshal Shelton offered. "The FBI profilers came up with some theories, but even after extensive interviews with survivors, there was no specific identifiable trigger. Which makes predicting his victim selection and tracking his movements almost impossible."
"The file said he was captured when he slipped up . . . these survivors managed to escape," Danny said.
"Lassiter made an error of arrogance and over-confidence. He forgot that the cyber tracking he was using could be used against him. An analyst found a lead, followed it back. Lassiter had kept photos, documents . . . " Caviness said.
"A digital scrapbook," Chin murmured.
"Like most serial killers, Lassiter had a compulsion to keep souvenirs. He kept his digitally, and that's how the FBI took him down," Polinski said.
"So, is there a connection between Novak and Lassiter?" Grover asked.
"Not that I found on my end," Chin said, looking to Marshals Polinski and Shelton.
"We haven't yet found a connection," Polinski said. "According to the data available, they never crossed paths, even at Halawa."
"But, that's only according to the information we have on record," Shelton added. "If the two of them are working together . . . "
"Well, let's not borrow that particular trainload of trouble until we have a reason to do so," Grover suggested.
"Okay, so even with HPD backup, we are going to be spread thin chasing after four suspects," Steve said. "Caviness, obviously you and your team need to focus on Lassiter. Chin, Kono - I want you to work with the marshals. No one knows the tech we have available to us, or the island, better than the two of you. Grover, you and Jax focus on Officer Mahelona; get Duke and whoever else you need from HPD, especially anyone who knew him when he was on the force. Jax, you are restricted from active duty, so you're surveillance and tech only, got it? Danny, you and I are going to focus on Novak, and I'm going to get some help from Naval Intel."
"What about Sang Min?" Kono asked.
"We're going to see if Kamekona and his cousins can get us a lead on Sang Min," Steve said.
"Kamekona is going to ask you to deputize him before this is all over," Chin warned.
Steve grinned. "Well, stranger things have happened. Remember, we don't know if, or to what extent, any of these guys may be working together. Leads may cross paths; keep an open mind. And no one - no one - goes after anyone without backup."
"Really," Danny said sarcastically. "Really, no one? Not even you, Super SEAL?"
"Not - what, Danny?" Steve asked indignantly. "When I need to, I call for backup, yes. What?!" he repeated, as he followed Danny into his office.
Caviness raised his eyebrows at Chin, who just shook his head.
"Okay, people, you heard the man," Grover said. "Let's get to work. Jax, fire up that computer," he added, smirking down at Jax.
"I hate desk duty," she grumbled darkly. "And you're my partner now, not my boss," she reminded him.
"Yeah, but I still outrank you and outweigh you by, oh, about a hundred pounds," Grover said, his tone clearly affectionate as he handed her crutch to her and gently rubbed her injured shoulder.
"Come on, I have an idea; remember Carlos?" she asked, as she made her way gingerly to her desk.
"We can take over the main console here," Chin said, gesturing to the large computer table in the center of the room. "Make yourselves comfortable . . . "
#*#*#*#*#
Steve slid behind his desk with a sigh and propped his head in his hand, rubbing his eyes. Danny eased himself slowly into a chair across from him.
"You, my emotionally constipated friend, have found yourself in a pickle, haven't you?" Danny asked. He looked at Steve sternly, but his voice was compassionate.
Steve looked up at him, surprised.
"Steven. You're going to have to pull every available resource for this . . . including Catherine. And you," he said, pointing a finger at Steve, "have neglected to have two crucial conversations, haven't you?"
"I just . . . the thing between Catherine and I, it was never serious, Danny. I assume that Jax was involved with other people before she met me; and I'm sure she assumes the same . . . it's just never come up. We talked about Jake, a little, but she's never asked . . . " Steve said, rubbing the back his neck.
"I know, Steve," Danny said kindly. "And I know you have to pull Catherine in on this. It's too important not to. Jax will understand, too, and I don't think she's the jealous type, anyway . . ." Danny hesitated.
"What?" Steve asked. "What's that tone?"
"I do not have a tone," Danny said automatically. "It's just - she's not jealous, Steve, but she tends to be a little . . . maybe a little insecure. You've said it; Jax has no idea how special she is, how pretty . . . and Catherine, she's . . . well, Catherine."
Steve frowned. "You're not making sense, Danny. I don't get it."
"I know you don't, my friend, and I love you for it," Danny said. "Now, I am going to go call Rachel and ask her to invite the nice man who's probably sitting in a tree outside the mansion inside for some lemonade, and ask him to drive Gracie to and from school until this situation is resolved."
"I thought you didn't like Joe 'skulking around your baby girl', Danny," Steve said.
"Oh, I don't. I don't like it one bit. But you didn't send a rent-a-cop to watch after my family, Steve, you sent the badass, hardass, asshole who made you the man you are today. And if you and I can't be there to protect Gracie ourselves, then I trust the man you trust," Danny said. "Now, let's get our uncomfortable conversations over with so we can catch these bastards."
Steve sighed again and trailed out of his office after Danny, walking to the office that Grover and Jax were sharing.
"Grover," Steve said, knocking on the door. "Um, Danny's calling Rachel to make sure security and Joe White are in place . . . do you need to make any calls, set anything up with Renee? Is there anything we can do for them? Name it, man, and we'll make it happen."
Grover unfolded his huge frame from behind his desk. "Renee is quite accustomed to the life of a cop, Steve, and you've been kind enough to ask your friend Commander Gutches to keep an eye out . . . but, maybe it would be a good idea for Renee to talk to the kids' school; let them work from home for a couple days."
Steve nodded. "I uh, need to speak with Jax for a moment while you take care of that."
Jax looked at Steve quizzically, but grabbed her crutch and followed Steve back to his office. He held the door open for her, and then closed it.
"Steve, you're making me nervous," she said quietly, leaning against his desk.
He stood just in front of her, tracing a finger over the bruise on her jaw. "You sure you're up to this?" he asked.
"You did not make me limp across the room to ask me that," she said exasperated. "Spill, McGarrett."
Yep, still hot, his brain offered.
"Okay. I mentioned calling in Naval Intelligence," he said.
"Yeah, that's fantastic, that you still have access through contacts there," Jax said. "I hope it gives us a lead or a break we can use."
"I do too, and I think it will, or I wouldn't try it. I just . . . I should have talked to you about this a while ago, the middle of a case is a lousy . . . " he took a deep breath. "My contact in Navy Intel is Lieutenant Catherine Rollins. We used to . . . we were . . . I mean, things were never serious but we did . . . you know. We saw each other."
Jax arched an eyebrow at him. "You saw each other."
"Yeah, we . . . dated. Or whatever." Steve said, shifting his feet awkwardly.
"Okay," Jax said. "You think she'll still be willing to help?"
"Do I - yes, I think she'll still be willing to help," Steve said. "So you're not . . . you don't think it will make you uncomfortable?"
"Should it?" Jax said, biting her lip uncertainly.
Steve cupped his hand around Jax's chin, tugging on her lip gently with the pad of his thumb, until she quit chewing on it. His hazel eyes locked with her dark green ones, and he smiled at her - the slow, soft smile that she was pretty sure was just for her.
"Nope," he said. The answer was short and to the point, but the kiss that followed it spoke volumes. "Not Catherine . . . not anyone."
"Well, okay then," Jax said. She tried to keep her voice carelessly confident, but damn it if it didn't come out all breathless and smitten. Steve smirked.
"Shut up," she said, smacking him on the arm. She'd forgotten that she was balanced on a crutch, and stumbled backwards just as Danny returned to the office.
"Whoa, whoa," he said, grabbing her by the waist and steadying her. "I can't turn my back on the two of you for a minute." He paused, tousling Jax's wayward curls affectionately. "We good here?" he asked cautiously.
"Fine, Danny," Steve said.
"All set," Jax said. "Now get to work, boys, get us a lead."
"Steve is going to follow that lead," Danny said, grabbing Jax by the elbow. "You and I have a follow-up appointment with Malia."
"Danny," Jax said, exasperated. "We are in the middle of a huge case."
"Yes, yes we are. Which will be severely compromised if one or both of us succumb to an infection at a crucial point."
"Succumb? Really, Danny?" Steve interjected.
"Yes, Steven, that is what happens with infection. It sneaks up on you, overtakes you quietly, and BAM!" Danny yelled so loudly that Kono, already on edge looking at photos of body parts, jerked her head toward Steve's office.
"What the fuck, brah?" she asked. Caviness glanced at her, his expression a mix of astonishment and amusement.
"You'll get used to it," Chin mumbled absently, as Danny prodded Jax toward the elevator.
"What's going on?" Kono demanded.
"Steve's calling Lieutenant Rollins," Jax tossed back over her shoulder. "The boys are losing their shit over it."
Agents Shelton and Polinski looked mildly horrified, and Chin was pretty sure he heard the word "unprofessional" slip quietly between them.
Kono shrugged and grinned at Caviness. "Welcome to Five-O," she offered.
#*#*#*#*#
"Hello, sailor," the familiar, warm voice came over the line, and suddenly, Steve felt like a jackass. He should have called her. Really.
"Catherine," he said, his voice already hesitant. "It's been a while . . . "
"It has," she replied, "and I've missed hearing from you. Word from Pearl is that you have a real situation on your hands there - Declan Novak is at large again? I'm assuming you need help."
"I do, Catherine," he said earnestly. "We've got three criminals and Sang Min on the loose, and zero leads. We've spent hours looking at traffic cams, security footage, airport and harbor footage . . . nothing. It's like they're ghosts, all of them; they've just vanished. We're working with the US Marshal service, hoping to avoid calling in the FBI."
Catherine hummed sympathetically. No one liked calling in the FBI.
"Well, the full resources of Naval Intelligence will be at your disposal, Commander," she said. "Novak is on our wanted list, too."
"Thank you, Catherine," Steve said. "There's, um, there's something else . . . now is a really bad time, but I really should mention . . . " He paused. Of the many ways to go about this, he was reasonably certain he was choosing the wrong way.
Catherine couldn't take it; she knew Steve had a good heart, and she knew he was already overwhelmed with the stress of the case. Any other time she might have enjoyed tormenting him a bit, but today wasn't the day for that.
"Steve," she said gently, "I know about Jax."
Steve didn't realize he was sitting there with his mouth literally hanging open in astonishment until Chin raised his eyebrows at him pointedly. Steve closed his mouth. He was a professional, after all.
"Where'd you get your intel?"
Catherine snorted indelicately. "Oh, Steve. Danny called me a while back."
"Danny?!"
"Now, hold on, Steve," Catherine placated. "I get this call from Danny, wanting to know if you had led me to believe that our relationship was exclusive, or serious, or heading that way. Because you seemed to be falling for his former rookie; and if you were leading either of us on, he was going to, and I quote, 'kick your ass to Hoboken and back'."
"Oh. And what did you tell Danny?" Steve was thinking that since Danny hadn't, in fact, kicked his ass, that maybe Catherine had told him what he needed to hear. But talking about relationships was not his strong point - okay, it wasn't his any point - and he had a momentary pang of genuine anxiety, that he had inadvertently misled Catherine.
"Oh, Steve, honey," Catherine said. "You're worried, aren't you? You're such a good guy. Danny is right, you're also emotionally constipated, but a good, good guy. Damn it, all the good ones really are taken."
"Catherine," Steve said, his voice a little strangled.
"I told Danny that neither of us had made the other any promises, Steve," Catherine said, "and that I never thought our relationship would be permanent, and it lasted longer than I thought; but you desperately needed someone in your life from whom you're willing to accept comfort and affection, and I was happy to be that person until someone came along and stole your heart completely."
"So, what, you dated me out of pity?"
"God, no, Steve, you're fantastic in bed."
Steve hoped the flush that he felt creeping over his face wasn't visible all the way out to . . . no, Kono was smirking again. Damn.
"Look, Steve," Catherine was saying. "I've been on a lot of missions, even been in combat zones. But I've never experienced . . . when I leave the Navy, I'm going to be able to leave it behind me, move on into civilian life. We both know that's never going to happen for you, and you need to be with someone who really understands that. From what Danny says, Jax gets it, gets you, in a way that very few other people ever can or will."
Steve cleared his throat. "Yeah."
"At some point, Steve," Catherine said gently, "you're going to need to do better than 'yeah'. I know you're better at demonstrating your feelings than sharing them, and Danny says she's the same. So . . . just make sure you use your words, okay?"
"You sound like Danny," Steve complained. "And Mrs. Hart."
"Yes, well. Then you should listen to the people who love you, Steve," Catherine said. "Now, send me everything you have on Declan Novak, and I'll get a team together and we will turn over every rock on Oahu until we find him."
"Okay, Catherine," Steve said. "Thank you. And . . . thank you."
"You got it, sailor."
#*#*#*#*#
"Any luck, guys?" Steve asked, coming out of his office to stand next to Chin.
"Only the bad kind," Chin said grimly. "We have a new missing persons report just filed this morning. The description of the missing person matches the general demographic of Lassiter's victims."
"Native, between the ages of 25 and 45, successful," Steve said. "Of course, that describes many of the people on the island."
"It does, and we'll hope it's a coincidence," Caviness said. "But until we prove otherwise, we're concerned. In the absence of other leads, though, we will follow through on this."
Kono put a file up on the screen. "Valerie Keon; age 33. She owns a small but very profitable bed and breakfast on the North Shore. Her guests went to sleep last night; woke up this morning and they were the only ones in the house. No sign of a struggle, no sign of Valerie. We're going to interview the family, and cross reference every shred of data that we discover."
Steve nodded at Caviness. It wasn't much, but it was more of a lead than they'd had so far. He continued across the room and poked his head into Grover and Jax's office.
"Hey, big guy," he said. "I expect Jax and Danny back soon. Did you get Renee and the kids all set?"
"Yeah, thanks Steve," Grover said. "We're all set. Hey, Jax had an idea that I've been following up on - remember Carlos, from the Rivera case?"
"Yeah, the punk that was working his way up the MS-13 food chain? I remember him," Steve said, his eyes darkening dangerously.
"Well, he didn't get much of a deal with the DA," Grover said, raising his eyebrows at Steve.
"Imagine that," Steve said. And Grover could imagine that; he could imagine a phone call from Steve explaining to the DA exactly why Carlos shouldn't get any breaks.
"Mahelona owes MS-13 big bucks. So, who wants to find Mahelona as badly as we do?" Grover asked.
Steve pointed at him. "MS-13. So how do we play that angle?"
"We give Carlos an incentive to give us the name of the MS-13 member or members most likely to go after Mahelona to try to get their money. We tail them, they lead us to Mahelona," Grover explained. "At least, that's how we'd do it in Chicago or New York. Don't see why it wouldn't work here."
"MS-13 is a transplant gang . . . they'll operate here much like they operate in Chicago or New York, at least for the first generation," Steve said. "It's a solid plan, Grover, good work."
"Hey, it was your girl's idea, man," Grover said. "I'm just setting up the interview at Halawa. Speak of the devil, here comes my pocket partner now."
Steve chuckled at Grover's apt description.
"Don't you tell her I said that, McGarrett," Grover warned quietly. "She may be little but I'm not messin' with that Jersey temper of hers."
Danny and Jax came off the elevator and toward Grover's office, arguing all the way.
"I'm telling you, Danny, it's not a big deal," Jax protested, as she limped beside him.
"What's not a big deal, and where's the crutch?" Steve asked, as Jax and Danny entered the office. Jax sat on the edge of her desk, feet dangling well above the ground. Steve couldn't help it - professionalism be damned - he slid a hand into her hair, fingers tangling in the curls, and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead.
Excellent restraint, his brain complimented him.
"I have been promoted from the crutch," Jax said proudly. "And also, cleared to drive."
"Oh dear Lord," Grover sighed. "I guess you're gonna insist on driving to Halawa then. I set up the interview with Carlos."
Danny looked at them in confusion. "Carlos?"
"We're hoping Carlos can tell us a specific MS-13 member that will go after Mahelona for the money he owes the gang," Jax explained.
"Ah, and he leads us to Mahelona," Danny said.
"When do we go?" Jax said, checking her pockets. ID, extra clip for the SIG, notebook, pen. All set.
"Soon; we have to allow extra time to get through the construction at Halawa," Grover said, looking at his watch. "We should leave in about ten minutes."
"Got it; let me hit the locker room and I'll be ready," Jax said, sliding off the desk.
Once she was out of earshot, Steve turned to Danny. "She deflected my question, Danny. What were you all arguing about on the way in?"
Danny sighed. "Okay, so I'm her medical proxy, right? I'm probably violating some sort of hippo law telling you this."
"HIPPA," Grover suggested.
"Yeah, that. So, Malia tells me that Jax has lost more weight. She's a little concerned," Danny said. He looked at Steve sternly.
"She says the pain meds always throw off her appetite," Steve said. "What, Danny, you think I hadn't noticed?"
Grover sensed an argument, fueled by concern and hurt feelings, brewing between the partners. "Whoa, guys," he said, holding a hand up to each of them. "So, we make sure she's eating, right? I'll stop on the way to Halawa, how's that?"
Danny and Steve nodded but then fell silent as Jax turned the corner. She came into the office, impatiently calling for Grover.
"Come on, let's go," she said. "I'll drive . . . I need to learn my way around, remember?" She anticipated his objection and countered with a comment he'd made earlier. Perfect.
"Alright, that works for me," Grover agreed quickly.
Too quickly, her brain chimed in. Too quickly and Danny is too quiet.
She narrowed her eyes at them suspiciously; she wasn't Danny Williams' rookie for nothing. Retrieving the keys from Grover's desk, she ignored both Danny and Steve and headed straight for the elevator. "Come on, time's wasting," she called back, not bothering to look over her shoulder.
Grover sighed and followed her, muttering something about 'sassy little red-headed partners'.
Steve looked at Danny, once, a glance loaded with something that looked an awful lot like reproach, and then spoke as he started walking toward the stairs. "Danny, we're going to head to Pearl; I'm going to look at some surveillance footage in their system, see if we find something the other footage didn't have." His steps were clipped, and Danny could almost see the weight of the chip on his shoulder.
Danny sighed, pinched the bridge of his nose, and followed. Kono, who was just too uncannily observant for her own damn good, followed their movements silently. Danny nodded at her as he passed, and she offered him a tentative smile.
When they reached the parking lot, Danny tossed Steve the keys. It may have been a peace offering, or it may have been a comment on Steve's control freak personality. Steve couldn't tell, and Danny hadn't decided yet.
"Steve, I -"
"Danny, I -"
They spoke over each other. Danny pinched the bridge of his nose again and Steve rubbed his eyes. They each took a deep breath.
"Look -"
"Listen -"
Steve chuffed impatiently. "Go ahead, Danny, you're going to have your say anyway."
"I'm gonna - okay never mind. What's with the face?"
"What face? I do not have a face," Steve said, his knuckles tightening on the steering wheel.
"You have a very distinct face, pal, you have Betrayed Trust face."
"Betray - Danny, that's bullshit."
"Nope. Betrayed Trust face. I make a simple statement, and you pull Betrayed Trust face."
"Okay, because that was not a simple statement, Danny, you had a tone," Steve argued.
"A tone? I do not have a tone," Danny said, hands gesturing wildly. "And eyes on the road, Steve, please, for the love of God."
"You do have a tone . . . it's . . . Disappointed Tone," Steve said.
"Whoa ho, partner, you are reading way too much into my 'tone'," Danny protested.
"Well, you are reading way too much into my 'face'," Steve countered.
Danny was quiet for a minute. Steve stubbornly tried to wait him out, but honestly, a quiet Danny was freaking him out. It was unnatural.
"What?" Steve demanded, when he couldn't take it any more.
"Okay, so what if we're not reading too much into each other's . . . whatever. Face or tone," Danny said.
"What do you mean, Danny? Stop talking in metaphors," Steve said.
"That's not a metaphor," Danny started, but put his hands up in surrender at Steve's murderous glare. "Alright, maybe there was a trace of disappointment in my tone. I mean, I love you, man, and I've already told you, if anyone is worthy of Jax, you come reasonably close. But, well, the rest of us, we usually only see her in her ubiquitous cargo pants and boots and . . . okay, well, if any of us were to notice that she was losing weight, it should be you. And I was, maybe, a little bit concerned and maybe there was measure of disappointment to think that you hadn't."
"A measure," Steve said suspiciously.
"Just a little skooch," Danny said. "And obviously, I then stood corrected. Mea culpa."
Steve was quiet again.
"Your turn," Danny said.
"My turn?"
"Your turn to explain why maybe there was Betrayed Trust face," Danny said, smiling benevolently at Steve.
"Betrayed Trust face," Steve said, deliberately schooling his features into the blankest expression he could summon.
"Don't," Danny said, shaking his head. "Interrogation SEAL face is worse."
"Interr - Danny, you are so full of shit," Steve said.
"Now you're deflecting, which means I am absolutely, positively, one hundred percent on target with Betrayed Trust face," Danny said smugly.
"Fine, Danny, yes, I may have felt a bit betrayed by your disappointment in me. That you have that little confidence in me," Steve said. He paused.
Danny nodded at him encouragingly. "Go ahead, it sounds like you're about to have an emotion."
"That when it comes right down to it, you don't believe that I'm capable of . . . that you don't believe that I'm worth . . ." Steve sighed. "You know what, just forget it, Danny."
You're not capable of love, Steve's brain whispered.
"Babe," Danny said, shifting slightly in his seat so that he was really looking at Steve. "You know the best bullshit meter out there?"
"A New Jersey detective with impeccable intuition?" Steve said. Goodness knows he'd heard that phrase enough times in the last couple years.
"No," Danny said, shaking his head. "A smart ten year old girl, raised by an even smarter British mother and a New Jersey detective with impeccable intuition. And do you know what my smart ten year old girl thinks of you?"
Steve got the same goofy, soft smile on his face that he always did when he thought of Gracie.
"What, Danno?"
"Gracie thinks you are a good man, Steven. She trusts you implicitly. She believes, with all her great big heart, that you would die to protect her . . . that you would do anything in your power to make sure I come home to her every night."
Steve swallowed around a sudden lump in his throat. "You know I would, Danny."
"Yes, I do know that you would," Danny said, nodding. "Just as I know you would do the same, a hundred times over, for Jax. Just as I know that no one, not even me, cares more about Jax than you."
"It's true, Danny," Steve said.
Danny nodded. "It's also true that not everyone that tried to be part of Jax's life over the last ten years has been as worthy as you. So, when she lost her brother, I went from Danny Williams, training officer, to Danny Williams, overprotective asshole. Today, I was Danny Williams, overprotective asshole."
"Yes, you were," Steve said, nodding solemnly; but his eyes were twinkling.
"And we're not even going to pretend that I won't be again," Danny said.
"This is probably true," Steve said, still nodding. "So are you gonna tell me?"
"Tell you what, babe?" Danny asked, confused.
"How bad is it?" Steve demanded, exasperated. "In case you've forgotten, the reason we've even had this stupid argument is because Jax is losing weight. More weight. Again. Which I knew, but . . . " he sighed.
Danny waited him out again.
"I don't always know how much to push, Danny. I did notice, you know. About five pounds, I'm guessing, which wouldn't be much for you or me, but for Jax or Kono . . . " Steve shook his head. "I asked her about it, and she blew me off with the thing about the pain meds messing with her appetite."
"Why do you say she was blowing you off? Sometimes they give me stuff that makes me queasy as hell," Danny observed.
"Because I noticed it before Halawa," Steve said quietly. "More, after, but I noticed it before."
"Seven," Danny said, out of the blue.
"What?"
"Seven pounds. Malia said that five or less she wouldn't have said anything. She said it could be training hard to try to overcome all her injuries; maybe having trouble adjusting to this god-forsaken heat and humidity; maybe the switch from New York pizza to Kamekona's shrimp, it's less calories in exchange . . . could be any number of things. Hopefully not anything to worry about, yeah?" Danny tried to keep his tone lighthearted.
They pulled up to the gate of the Pearl Harbor Naval Base, and Steve flashed his credentials at the guard, who waved them through.
"Hopefully not anything to worry about?" Steve pressed Danny.
"Well," Danny hesitated. "Malia mentioned that sometimes, consciously or subconsciously, people who feel like they have had control taken away from them assert control in other aspects of their life. Like obsessively cleaning their guns, for example."
"It's not obsessive, Danny, it's proper firearm maintenance."
"Right. Or exercising excessively . . . or . . . controlling their food intake," Danny finished, looking at Steve.
"Shit, Danny," Steve said, throwing the car into park and rubbing his face. "Like the PTSD isn't enough for her to deal with."
"Steve," Danny said carefully, "did you not hear a word I was saying? It's possible that you and Jax both are seeking out ways to deal with the sense of the loss of control. You swim five miles every freakin' morning, Steve, that's not normal."
"It is for a SEAL," Steve insisted.
"Okay, big guy," Danny said, deciding that he'd pushed hard enough for one day. "Well, it might very well be stress, plain and simple, so let's go find a lead and bury this Declan Novak character; give us all one less thing to worry about, yeah?"
#*#*#*#*#
"We'll need to split up," Caviness said. "Officer Kelly, would you take Marshals Shelton and Polinski to interview the family? I'm guessing that the parents of Ms. Keon would appreciate a local conducting the interview; and you're more likely to pick up on anything unusual."
Chin nodded in agreement.
"Officer Kalakaua, could you take me to the crime scene?" Caviness asked.
"Sure," Kono agreed. "Do you want a CSI team? I can call HPD."
"That might happen later. I'd like to take a look first, get a feel for it," Caviness said.
The teams split up, gathering their credentials and sidearms, and headed for the parking lot.
"Cute car," Caviness said, as Kono indicated her red Cruz to him. He slid easily into the passenger seat.
"It carries my boards and it's easy to park at the beach," Kono said.
"Ah, yes, you were a professional," Caviness commented. "Do you miss it?"
Kono thought about that for a moment. "Not enough that I would choose that, instead of Five-O, if I had to make the choice now. And I still surf, but now it's for fun, not competition. I'm teaching Danny and his little girl Gracie, and Jax, too. I enjoy that."
"I can not imagine Detective Williams on a surfboard," Caviness chuckled.
"How about you? Do you surf? You've been assigned to the Honolulu office for six whole months," Kono teased.
"You did your homework," Caviness said.
"Well, I don't have a file with surveillance photos, but yeah," Kono said.
"Sorry about that," Caviness said. "I hope you all understand . . . "
"You were just doing your job," Kono nodded.
"You're exposed, you know. When you surf just before dark," Caviness explained. "Not a lot of cover, and when you're on the water, you're a pretty easy target. You keep your sidearm locked in your glovebox."
"I can't very well tuck it into my bikini," Kono pointed out, then blushed when Caviness looked at her appraisingly.
"No, that wouldn't work," he said, smiling at her. "Maybe no evening surfing, until we get these assholes rounded up?"
Kono looked at him dubiously. She loved evening surfing.
"Or . . . " he hesitated. "I could come with you, watch your six."
Kono looked at him even more dubiously. "No one felt the need to watch my six when Victor Hesse was at large on the island." She turned into the lush, palm lined drive to the bed and breakfast.
"Maybe someone should have," Caviness said, as he checked the clip on his Glock. He climbed out of the car, leaving Kono to look at his retreating back with a mixture of irritation and . . . well, she wasn't sure what the other thing was, but it wasn't irritation.
Caviness held the tape up for Kono to duck under, and they made their way to the quiet house.
"Everything looks perfectly in place," Kono said. "None of the shrubs are disturbed . . . it doesn't look like he came in through a window."
"Original CSI crew didn't find any unusual prints on windows or doors," Caviness said. "Of course, gloves could explain that quite easily."
They spent close to two hours going over the property carefully, methodically. Caviness was quiet, and steady. Kono might have thought it was like working with Chin, except. Well. Caviness was definitely not her cousin.
"Look over here," Caviness said, as he bent and peered over the back of the sofa.
Okay, yes, absolutely, I will look right over there. Yes indeed. Kono's brain was wholeheartedly willing to go along with the suggestion.
"Kono?" Caviness prompted, looking back over his shoulder at her.
She shook her head minutely and kneeled next to him on the sofa, peering over the back.
"What on earth . . . " she mumbled, pulling out her penlight and shining it behind the sofa. Wedged between the foot of the sofa and the wall, was a shoe.
A prison issue slip-on with what looked like blood on the sole.
"Looks like one of our escapees was here," Caviness said soberly, "and all the evidence points to it being Martin Lassiter."
"If Martin Lassiter was here," Kono said, her eyes wide, "where is Valerie Keon?"
#*#*#*#*#
"Well, lookee who it is," Carlos sneered. He slumped in his chair across the interview table from Grover and Jax. Grover was making a mental note of the idiot who'd reversed his instructions to make sure that he and Jax were seated first, before bringing Carlos in. Instead, they'd been ushered into the room, Jax not bothering to minimize her limp, and Carlos was already sitting there between two guards.
"Looks like the jailhouse story is right; you got your wings clipped there, chica," Carlos continued. "Nice knife in that tender flesh of yours, eh?"
"And here we were, driving all this way out here to see if you wanted to improve your situation, Carlos," Jax said, standing at the table across from Carlos. She didn't sit when Grover did, opting to stand instead. It gave her just the slightest height advantage over Carlos.
"What do you mean?" Carlos asked cautiously.
"Well, usually when a criminal is booked on charges associated with gang activity, they're usually offered . . . an incentive," Grover said.
"Incentive," Carlos repeated.
"Yeah, a condition, an improvement, a lesser charge . . . in exchange for, say, the name of the next higher asshole on the ladder," Grover said. "And thus far, you have not been offered any incentives."
"Because, Carlos, you didn't have anything much to offer," Jax continued. "We already had Dillon Rivera."
"But now, you might have something we want," Grover said, "and we might be able to give you something you want."
"I'm listening . . ."
#*#*#*#*#
Steve stared at the screen in front of him in disbelief. Pearl Harbor Naval Base had the best satellite footage modern technology had to offer, and the picture didn't lie. The evidence was irrefutable.
"I don't believe it," he said.
"Babe, I know I tease you about aneurysm face, but seriously, I'm afraid you're going to stroke out on me here," Danny said, looking at Steve worriedly.
"He slipped through my fingers. Again," Steve said. "Damn it to hell, Danny, Declan Novak is in the wind."