Fic: Pineapples Are Not The Only Fruit (H50, Steve/Danny, M) Part 3
For introduction and warnings, see Part 1
Part 3
Jack McGarrett's funeral was held at the cemetery two days later. Although it wasn't an official police funeral, there was a large contingent of HPD officers there, paying their respects to a man who had spent more than twenty years in the department. Danny wasn't one of them. He hadn't known the man personally, and his midnight adventure with LtCdr Steve McGarrett hadn't left him feeling like his presence would be welcome, so he was manning the station along with a few others, including Kono Kalakaua, newly-graduated from the academy and full of enthusiasm.
"Detective Williams," she began.
"Call me Danny." He didn't usually give that license to rookies, but Kono was a good kid and not likely to try and take advantage. Besides, she had contacts on the island that even Meka took seriously.
"Danny," she said with a smile, but then turned serious again. "I got word from one of my cousins that Heleka took his yacht out this morning."
Danny grunted. Heleka had maintained that he'd been taking an evening stroll and had met Hesse purely by accident. Chin had been forced to admit -- with considerable reluctance -- that walking on a golf course at night wasn't actually illegal. After some less-than-amicable banter with Heleka's lawyers, they'd had to let him go, but they had kept him under surveillance for the last couple of days in the hope that he might do something they could connect with Hesse, who had apparently disappeared into thin air after shooting McGarrett in the chest.
"Any guests with him?"
"Just his usual crew, according to Phil. But that doesn't exclude someone having boarded in the previous day or two."
"True." Dammit, if Hesse was on board -- and it was more likely than not, come to think of it -- that meant he would have access to all the other islands and their airports. Of course they had put out a bulletin with Hesse's details and photograph, but security staff weren't infallible, and Hesse had already exhibited a disturbing talent for slipping by unnoticed.
"Does Heleka have berthing at any of the other island marinas? And what's the range of the yacht?"
"I'll check both. It's not that big though, I wouldn't think it would do an international trip. I'll see if Phil noticed bulk stores being loaded though."
"Thanks."
With a sigh, Danny went back to trawling through Heleka's phone records. He knew it was a wasted effort (even the dumb criminals knew enough to get a disposable pre-paid cellphone these days) and reflected that the case was turning into a nightmare. He wasn't even supposed to be working on it, for heaven's sake! He still had an small-scale armed robbery series and the usual crop of drug busts to keep him occupied, but with Meka off sick and Hesse still at large, Chin had asked him to lend a hand. He liked Chin, who had extended a hand of welcome to the haole newcomer three years ago when most of the others in the station had ignored him, and he didn't want to cause unpleasantness when there was no benefit. Besides, he hadn't seen McGarrett since they'd dropped him at Pearl Harbor at dawn two days before, so helping out wasn't as much of a hassle as he had expected.
The thing that was a hassle was the low-grade headache he'd had for the last twenty-four hours, and he was trying hard to ignore it, mainly because he suspected he knew what had caused it and was hoping he was wrong. It couldn't be bond-stress, he told himself, because there was no bond. He refused even to consider the possibility of a bond. He and McGarrett had barely touched -- only the minimum contact necessary for their work -- and they didn't even like each other. Plus, there was no way he would allow himself to get attached to a military sentinel, even if he had liked the man. He had Gracie to consider, after all. She had taken a long time to settle into life in Hawaii, and he wasn't going to uproot her or leave her alone here with his brother and the housekeeper -- not that they weren't good people, but they didn't look out for Grace the way her father did, and he knew if he weren't there to keep an eye on things she'd be doing all sorts of dangerous stuff like surfing and horseback riding and dating before she was a teenager. No, he had to stay here with her, and that meant no bonding, not now, not ever.
He ignored the small voice at the back of his mind that said he missed being a bonded guide. That life was behind him now, and had been for three years. He belonged here now.
* * *
Within a few hours, it was clear that Heleka was heading for the Big Island. Danny wondered if they could possibly convince a judge to sign a warrant to search the boat the minute it arrived … but that was assuming that Hesse would still be on board.
"I wish we had a satellite," he muttered. "Then I could divert it to track the yacht, like they do on TV."
Kono laughed. "That would definitely make our life easier. You think he's going to run for it?"
"No, I think he's going to rendezvous with another vessel -- maybe a yacht, maybe a freighter -- and transfer Hesse while they're in international waters. Dammit, why didn't we catch Hesse boarding Heleka's yacht?"
"Because he didn't," came a voice from behind him. "At least, not Heleka's yacht."
He turned to see McGarrett, still in his dress uniform, striding into the room. Chin was behind him, looking grim.
"How do you know that?"
"Because he's just been sighted on Kauai."
"Are you sure? How the hell did he get there?"
Chin tapped his cell phone. "According to my informant, Heleka pulled in a favor from Hiro Noshimuri. Noshimuri's yacht left Honolulu late yesterday morning and arrived in Lihue at dawn. Hesse was spotted leaving the boat with some of the crew. I just got word. Whatever Heleka is doing, it's a blind."
Danny was stunned. If it was true, then it was a stroke of luck - he'd been sure that the next sighting of Hesse would be in Asia or Europe, probably in a country that had no extradition treaty with the USA.
"Noshimuri," he muttered softly. "Where have I heard that name recently?"
"Governor's ball, about three weeks ago," said Kono. "He was one of the VIP guests."
"No, that wasn't it." He wracked his brain but there was nothing except the faint sensation of an echo that told him he'd heard the name in the last week or two.
Chin said, "His name has come up a couple of times in connection with yakuza-related crime, but we've never been able to get probable cause."
"Would this qualify?"
Chin frowned. "I don't know, would depend on the judge. Informants aren't always right. And even if we did manage to lift prints from the yacht, Noshimuri could easily say he didn't know who the man was, or even that he didn't know the yacht had a passenger."
"We have to try."
"I'll see what I can do." Chin started scrolling through the directory and sighed. "This would be easier if we had state-wide jurisdiction. I'll have to liaise with Kauai PD and see who their best option is to execute the warrant if they won't let us go over ourselves."
Danny nodded. "I certainly don't want to get the Feds involved." Actually, he was surprised they weren't there already, wrapping their grabby little hands around the case, but he wasn't going to complain and risk jinxing himself.
"OK," said McGarrett, looking up from his phone. "Transport is arranged. Plane leaves at 1408, I'll expect you at the airport at 1330."
"What?" Danny almost shouted. "You can't be serious."
"I'm serious." He glanced at his watch. "You have ninety minutes."
"I'm not going with you."
McGarrett huffed. "You're my guide."
"But that was just for one night."
"It was for the mission, and the mission isn't over."
"I have plans for this weekend."
"Cancel them."
"No."
"Do I have to call the governor again?"
Danny hesitated for a moment while he considered calling McGarrett's bluff. He really didn't want to go, particularly not at a moment's notice, but on the other hand he didn't want to end up in the governor's bad books. While he'd never met her in person, he'd heard enough about her that he was reluctant to provoke her legendary temper.
He sighed, and capitulated. "All right, you win. But I need a couple of hours to sort things out with my family. I can't make half past one. Seriously, not even if I wanted to. I have to arrange for someone to pick my daughter up from school, and then make sure my brother will be here this weekend."
McGarrett hesitated, then nodded a grudging acceptance. "Fine. I'll get seats rebooked for … 1545. Happy now?"
Danny glanced at his watch. He had three hours to sort out coverage for Gracie, get home, pack, and get to the airport. Fuck.
* * *
Danny made it to the baggage drop with thirty seconds to spare, and that was after having shamelessly used his police badge to jump the queue. The trouble with Hawaii was that it was tourist season all year 'round, and it seemed that every single one of them wanted to go to another island for the weekend.
McGarrett, Gray and Rosetti were already at the gate. McGarrett deliberately looked at his watch.
"Bite me, McGarrett, I got here in time. No need to play the schoolma'am."
Gray chuckled, and even Rosetti smothered a grin. McGarrett tightened his lips but made no comment, which was just as well because Danny was just itching for the chance to offload some of the bad temper he'd endured over the last few hours.
They started boarding just a minute later, and Danny was pleased to note that he wasn't sitting next to any of the team. It gave him another hour or so to himself, time to relax as much as he could, and to think about ways he could act as a guide and do his job professionally without allowing McGarrett to get any closer.
At least he'd got Grace's care sorted. Thank Christ, Matty hadn't planned to go away this weekend and was happy to look after Gracie. Miriam, their housekeeper, had also agreed to work on Monday, her usual day off, if Danny hadn't returned by then. So after that it had been just the packing -- or, rather, finding a case and throwing in anything that might be remotely useful, including the hiking boots and backpack he'd bought three years ago with the aim of trekking through Hawaii's lush national parks. Naturally, the only time he'd used them had been a day-trip with Gracie's class to Koko Head. He'd also thrown in a couple of meditation aids -- he wasn't sure if he'd get the chance to use them, but if he was going to be a guide he was damn well going to be a good guide -- and two bottles of Tylenol 3.
The one thing he hadn't brought was a packet of condoms. He had a feeling he might regret that in the long run, but he was determined not to allow the embryonic bond to grow any further, and if things ever did get a little heated, the need to go out for supplies would be a sufficient dampener … he hoped. Either that or he'd end up getting swabs and blood tests again, and the thought of that was enough to make him glare at the back of McGarrett's head.
Less than an hour later, they landed at Lihue. The amount of gear that Rosetti and Gray pulled off the carousel made Danny's eyes widen, but he stopped himself from asking the obvious questions while they had an audience. It was probably just surveillance equipment, he told himself, though he wouldn't put it past this lot to get an exemption for military explosives.
McGarrett had been on the phone as soon as they were permitted, and stood to one side From the tone of his voice, not everything was going to plan. Danny rang Chin himself, but it went straight to voicemail, leading Danny to suspect that Chin was the unlucky person on the other end of McGarrett's conversation. He sighed and concentrated on the luggage.
Five minutes later, the baggage carousel held only a couple of lonely-looking cases and a child's car seat and the crowd had dispersed.
"Everyone ready?" asked McGarrett, shoving his phone back in his pocket.
Danny nodded, having picked up his one checked bag and followed the others out to the van they'd hired.
Apparently their first stop was the hotel, which surprised Danny, but he supposed it made sense to get their gear stowed away before embarking on what could be a long and tedious hunt. Conversely, he wasn't surprised when McGarrett indicated they'd be sharing, since he was far too used to the government's attempts at economy to have expected anything else. He just hoped the man didn't snore too loudly.
The room wasn't bad: it had two double beds, a small table with two dining chairs and an en suite bathroom, but the air was a bit musty, as if the room hadn't been occupied for a few days. Danny went immediately to the windows and opened up the door that led onto a minuscule balcony, letting in the fresh air and a small sliver of sunlight.
He then did a quick scout through the bathroom and removed the toiletries, placing them in the plastic disposal bag which he then folded over securely -- hotels always used the cheapest possible ingredients for their "free" amenities and very few sentinels could tolerate them. He set out his own scent-free soap, shampoo and deodorant, and hoped that McGarrett had brought his own, since he didn't like sharing if he didn't have to. The towels seemed fairly soft to his touch, and had very little smell, so unless the sentinel was spiking, he shouldn't have a problem with them. He grabbed one of the face flannels and wiped down the sink, taps, bench and toilet seat with plain water. He left the light and fan on to remove any residual odors from cleaning products and returned to the bedroom to finish unpacking.
He could feel McGarrett staring at him, and suddenly felt self-conscious.
"What?" he asked, a little more belligerently than he'd intended. "Don't you like fresh air?"
"I like fresh air just fine. How did you do that?"
"Do what?"
"You -- you changed the room. Made it tolerable."
Danny was taken aback. What he'd done was so basic, so instinctive after years of caring for Rachel, that he'd barely even noticed. It seemed that guiding, like riding a bicycle, was a skill one never forgot. "Didn't your temp guides do a room check when you had to stay somewhere?"
"Not unless I was having problems."
"Sentinels always have problems outside their own homes. I know that airing out the room will only go some way to easing the impact on your senses, but every little bit helps, right?"
McGarrett smiled at him, and Danny felt a rather disconcerting squirming in his gut. "So," he said, hurriedly, trying to change the subject, "where do we go from here? KPD headquarters?" He picked up a couple of shirts and strode over to the wardrobe to hang them up.
"I'm waiting on a callback from the governor's office - they were going to smooth the way for us. And Chin was trying to get more information on Noshimuri's contacts here."
"There can't be many, it's a small island." Danny was now hanging up a pair of slacks. "I still can't understand why he'd come here. Why Kauai?"
"I don't know."
"Are you sure this isn't just a red herring?" asked Danny. "To get out of Hawaii, his best bet is through Oahu or the Big Island. International flights only go from Honolulu, and so do ninety per cent of the cargo vessels. Even Maui would have been a better choice - lots of tourists, flights to the mainland, cruise ships every other day, and more private yachts."
"That's true, but the major shipping lanes from Oahu to Asia pass just north of Kauai. If he wanted to make a transfer to a freighter, it would be a lot easier to do it unnoticed up here rather than closer to Oahu."
"Damn. That would make sense. It's what my gut tells me he's going to do. He could be gone already."
McGarrett shook his head. "I don't think he wants to leave Hawaii just yet."
"Why not?"
"Because I'm still alive." McGarrett's voice was flat and his face expressionless. "He's chasing me now, as much as I'm chasing him. I got his brother killed, he killed my father. We both want to find the other, and when we do, only one of us is going to survive."
"That's -- that's just crazy. This is America, we don't have blood-feuds."
McGarrett just looked at him, and Danny guiltily thought of all the killings he'd seen in his career. At least half of them had been revenge-motivated, so yes, in a weird way they did have blood feuds.
"All right, so we do," he admitted, "but they're still wrong."
"Right or wrong, I'm going after Hesse. If I get the chance to arrest him, I will, but if it's a choice between killing him and risking the rest of the team or any bystanders, I'll kill him."
Danny figured that was as much of a concession as McGarrett was going to make.
* * *
It was late when they left the station. They'd spent a largely unproductive evening talking with a couple of senior detectives from the Kauai Police Department, as well as a few informers they'd brought in, but for all that, they didn't have much more now than they'd had at lunchtime. Noshimuri's yacht had been searched, but -- as they had expected -- his papers were in order. The only suspicious fact was that there were very few fingerprints anywhere, but when every member of the crew stated that Mr Noshimuri was a clean freak and demanded that all surfaces were wiped down daily, it was hard to insist that it indicated criminal activity.
Lihue wasn't as well-supplied as Honolulu with late-night stores and restaurants, but they managed to find an Italian place not far from the hotel. Danny sniffed the garlic aroma appreciatively, and wondered if the food would be as good as the small family-run restaurant he'd frequented back in Newark. After a cursory glance at the menu, he decided on penne a quattro formaggi, on the grounds that a four-cheese sauce was difficult to get wrong. Gray ordered spaghetti all'amatriciana, while Rosetti decided on the lasagne. McGarrett bucked the trend and ordered a Hawaiian pizza, with extra pineapple.
Danny looked at him in horror. "You cannot be serious."
"Don't you like pineapple?"
"I used to like pineapple, when it came in tins and was eaten only for dessert. Pineapple on pizza is an abomination. It's put me off for life."
McGarrett raised an eyebrow. "I guess you're a plain-cheese pizza type of person then?"
"There's nothing wrong with a plain cheese pizza. Or pepperoni. Pepperoni is fine. But that's it. No fancy stuff."
For some reason that triggered off a discussion of everyone's favorite pizza toppings, and Danny soon found that he was in the minority when it came to pizza purity. Gray liked spicy toppings with extra jalapenos, while Rosetti -- in what Danny considered a complete betrayal of his Italian heritage -- enthused about a lamb and rosemary pizza he'd had in Sydney once. McGarrett just smiled and said he liked the Hawaiian the best.
One thing that Danny did pick up on was that McGarrett was eating a lot more than he normally did, judging by the covert looks he was getting from the other two. He suspected that McGarrett's sensory control when he was on his own wasn't as good as he liked to pretend, which worried him professionally, and that tonight he felt well enough to be hungry, which dismayed him personally. It was one more sign of a nascent bond, and that was something he really didn't want to think about, even though he was grateful that his own headache had gone.
He sighed. If he could get through the next few days without something disastrous happening, he'd count it a miracle.
* * *
He was woken up by a harsh, half-strangled cry from the next bed. There was something in the quality of the sound that had him up and on his feet before he even registered he was awake. He stood there for a moment, getting his bearings and casting a glance at the radio-clock -- it was 2:27. McGarrett cried out again, and Danny approached the other bed.
McGarrett was obviously having a bad dream. With Gracie, Danny would have held her until she woke up properly and calmed down, but he had a suspicion that if he tried to touch McGarrett now he'd end up with a broken limb. On the other hand, if he didn't try and settle the man down he wouldn't get any sleep himself, and a tired Danny was a very crabby Danny, as anyone who had ever worked with him could testify.
"McGarrett," he whispered, "wake up, you're having a bad dream."
There was no immediate response, so Danny approached the bed and began speaking softly, much as he did when a sentinel was in a zone, but this time the words and the intent were soothing. Eventually, he touched the back of McGarrett's hand, and was relieved at the response -- instead of a violent attack there was a soft sigh, and McGarrett seemed to relax a little. Pleased, he stayed there for a minute, rubbing the skin gently, and when it appeared that McGarrett had slipped back into sleep, he rose and returned to his own bed.
Fifteen minutes later he was back on his feet, looking down at McGarrett's contorted features. Whatever nightmare he had interrupted before had returned in force, and the sentinel was twitching and groaning. With a sigh, and a fervent plea to whatever gods there might be that he wasn't about to do something monumentally stupid, Danny pulled back the covers and slid in beside McGarrett, who immediately settled down.
Within minutes, they were both deeply asleep.
* * *
He woke at six to a harsh buzzing sound in his right ear. He tried to ignore it. In his opinion, six o'clock was an obscenely early hour at the best of times, let alone when he'd had a late night and interrupted sleep. He was deliciously warm and the covers were heavy, and ...
Oh. Right.
Memory returned with a vengeance. He was in a hotel in Lihue, lying in bed with one tall, lanky military sentinel draped over him like a centrally-heated hot water bottle, head nestled comfortably against his neck, his breath wafting over Danny's chest, stirring up currents that were disconcertingly arousing.
After a bit more mental effort, he worked out that the buzzing noise was coming from the heavy diving watch on McGarrett's wrist. He tried to shift, but McGarrett simply made a small protesting noise and tightened his grip, pressing on Danny's still-injured left arm.
"Come on, sunshine," Danny murmured, trying to lift McGarrett's arm away from his chest. "Time to get up. We have leads to follow, scumbags to find, remember?"
"Mnmfh."
"Very eloquent." With a smile and a bit more effort, Danny managed to slither out from under McGarrett's grip and headed for the bathroom.
On his return, fifteen minutes later, he found McGarrett standing on the balcony, taking deep breaths of fresh air. He was naked apart from his boxer briefs, and Danny couldn’t help but take an involuntary breath at the sight of the man's body -- lean, muscled, and so very, very enticing. He was glad he'd jerked off in the shower, and hoped that his sudden resurgence of arousal wasn't too obvious to the sentinel.
"Good morning," he volunteered, reaching into his bag for clean underwear.
McGarrett turned to him. "What took you so long? We have too much to do today for you to spend an hour in the bathroom."
Danny was taken aback. "Well, who pissed in your Wheaties this morning? I took as much time as I needed -- which, incidentally, was about fifteen minutes. And if that seems like a long time to you then no wonder you look terminally frustrated."
It was almost amusing to see the startled look on McGarrett's face, followed by a mixture of anger and embarrassment. Danny smiled sweetly at him and then deliberately turned away and dropped his towel. From behind him he heard a muffled cough and then McGarrett hurried into the bathroom.
He counted that as a win.
Part 4
Part 3
Jack McGarrett's funeral was held at the cemetery two days later. Although it wasn't an official police funeral, there was a large contingent of HPD officers there, paying their respects to a man who had spent more than twenty years in the department. Danny wasn't one of them. He hadn't known the man personally, and his midnight adventure with LtCdr Steve McGarrett hadn't left him feeling like his presence would be welcome, so he was manning the station along with a few others, including Kono Kalakaua, newly-graduated from the academy and full of enthusiasm.
"Detective Williams," she began.
"Call me Danny." He didn't usually give that license to rookies, but Kono was a good kid and not likely to try and take advantage. Besides, she had contacts on the island that even Meka took seriously.
"Danny," she said with a smile, but then turned serious again. "I got word from one of my cousins that Heleka took his yacht out this morning."
Danny grunted. Heleka had maintained that he'd been taking an evening stroll and had met Hesse purely by accident. Chin had been forced to admit -- with considerable reluctance -- that walking on a golf course at night wasn't actually illegal. After some less-than-amicable banter with Heleka's lawyers, they'd had to let him go, but they had kept him under surveillance for the last couple of days in the hope that he might do something they could connect with Hesse, who had apparently disappeared into thin air after shooting McGarrett in the chest.
"Any guests with him?"
"Just his usual crew, according to Phil. But that doesn't exclude someone having boarded in the previous day or two."
"True." Dammit, if Hesse was on board -- and it was more likely than not, come to think of it -- that meant he would have access to all the other islands and their airports. Of course they had put out a bulletin with Hesse's details and photograph, but security staff weren't infallible, and Hesse had already exhibited a disturbing talent for slipping by unnoticed.
"Does Heleka have berthing at any of the other island marinas? And what's the range of the yacht?"
"I'll check both. It's not that big though, I wouldn't think it would do an international trip. I'll see if Phil noticed bulk stores being loaded though."
"Thanks."
With a sigh, Danny went back to trawling through Heleka's phone records. He knew it was a wasted effort (even the dumb criminals knew enough to get a disposable pre-paid cellphone these days) and reflected that the case was turning into a nightmare. He wasn't even supposed to be working on it, for heaven's sake! He still had an small-scale armed robbery series and the usual crop of drug busts to keep him occupied, but with Meka off sick and Hesse still at large, Chin had asked him to lend a hand. He liked Chin, who had extended a hand of welcome to the haole newcomer three years ago when most of the others in the station had ignored him, and he didn't want to cause unpleasantness when there was no benefit. Besides, he hadn't seen McGarrett since they'd dropped him at Pearl Harbor at dawn two days before, so helping out wasn't as much of a hassle as he had expected.
The thing that was a hassle was the low-grade headache he'd had for the last twenty-four hours, and he was trying hard to ignore it, mainly because he suspected he knew what had caused it and was hoping he was wrong. It couldn't be bond-stress, he told himself, because there was no bond. He refused even to consider the possibility of a bond. He and McGarrett had barely touched -- only the minimum contact necessary for their work -- and they didn't even like each other. Plus, there was no way he would allow himself to get attached to a military sentinel, even if he had liked the man. He had Gracie to consider, after all. She had taken a long time to settle into life in Hawaii, and he wasn't going to uproot her or leave her alone here with his brother and the housekeeper -- not that they weren't good people, but they didn't look out for Grace the way her father did, and he knew if he weren't there to keep an eye on things she'd be doing all sorts of dangerous stuff like surfing and horseback riding and dating before she was a teenager. No, he had to stay here with her, and that meant no bonding, not now, not ever.
He ignored the small voice at the back of his mind that said he missed being a bonded guide. That life was behind him now, and had been for three years. He belonged here now.
* * *
Within a few hours, it was clear that Heleka was heading for the Big Island. Danny wondered if they could possibly convince a judge to sign a warrant to search the boat the minute it arrived … but that was assuming that Hesse would still be on board.
"I wish we had a satellite," he muttered. "Then I could divert it to track the yacht, like they do on TV."
Kono laughed. "That would definitely make our life easier. You think he's going to run for it?"
"No, I think he's going to rendezvous with another vessel -- maybe a yacht, maybe a freighter -- and transfer Hesse while they're in international waters. Dammit, why didn't we catch Hesse boarding Heleka's yacht?"
"Because he didn't," came a voice from behind him. "At least, not Heleka's yacht."
He turned to see McGarrett, still in his dress uniform, striding into the room. Chin was behind him, looking grim.
"How do you know that?"
"Because he's just been sighted on Kauai."
"Are you sure? How the hell did he get there?"
Chin tapped his cell phone. "According to my informant, Heleka pulled in a favor from Hiro Noshimuri. Noshimuri's yacht left Honolulu late yesterday morning and arrived in Lihue at dawn. Hesse was spotted leaving the boat with some of the crew. I just got word. Whatever Heleka is doing, it's a blind."
Danny was stunned. If it was true, then it was a stroke of luck - he'd been sure that the next sighting of Hesse would be in Asia or Europe, probably in a country that had no extradition treaty with the USA.
"Noshimuri," he muttered softly. "Where have I heard that name recently?"
"Governor's ball, about three weeks ago," said Kono. "He was one of the VIP guests."
"No, that wasn't it." He wracked his brain but there was nothing except the faint sensation of an echo that told him he'd heard the name in the last week or two.
Chin said, "His name has come up a couple of times in connection with yakuza-related crime, but we've never been able to get probable cause."
"Would this qualify?"
Chin frowned. "I don't know, would depend on the judge. Informants aren't always right. And even if we did manage to lift prints from the yacht, Noshimuri could easily say he didn't know who the man was, or even that he didn't know the yacht had a passenger."
"We have to try."
"I'll see what I can do." Chin started scrolling through the directory and sighed. "This would be easier if we had state-wide jurisdiction. I'll have to liaise with Kauai PD and see who their best option is to execute the warrant if they won't let us go over ourselves."
Danny nodded. "I certainly don't want to get the Feds involved." Actually, he was surprised they weren't there already, wrapping their grabby little hands around the case, but he wasn't going to complain and risk jinxing himself.
"OK," said McGarrett, looking up from his phone. "Transport is arranged. Plane leaves at 1408, I'll expect you at the airport at 1330."
"What?" Danny almost shouted. "You can't be serious."
"I'm serious." He glanced at his watch. "You have ninety minutes."
"I'm not going with you."
McGarrett huffed. "You're my guide."
"But that was just for one night."
"It was for the mission, and the mission isn't over."
"I have plans for this weekend."
"Cancel them."
"No."
"Do I have to call the governor again?"
Danny hesitated for a moment while he considered calling McGarrett's bluff. He really didn't want to go, particularly not at a moment's notice, but on the other hand he didn't want to end up in the governor's bad books. While he'd never met her in person, he'd heard enough about her that he was reluctant to provoke her legendary temper.
He sighed, and capitulated. "All right, you win. But I need a couple of hours to sort things out with my family. I can't make half past one. Seriously, not even if I wanted to. I have to arrange for someone to pick my daughter up from school, and then make sure my brother will be here this weekend."
McGarrett hesitated, then nodded a grudging acceptance. "Fine. I'll get seats rebooked for … 1545. Happy now?"
Danny glanced at his watch. He had three hours to sort out coverage for Gracie, get home, pack, and get to the airport. Fuck.
* * *
Danny made it to the baggage drop with thirty seconds to spare, and that was after having shamelessly used his police badge to jump the queue. The trouble with Hawaii was that it was tourist season all year 'round, and it seemed that every single one of them wanted to go to another island for the weekend.
McGarrett, Gray and Rosetti were already at the gate. McGarrett deliberately looked at his watch.
"Bite me, McGarrett, I got here in time. No need to play the schoolma'am."
Gray chuckled, and even Rosetti smothered a grin. McGarrett tightened his lips but made no comment, which was just as well because Danny was just itching for the chance to offload some of the bad temper he'd endured over the last few hours.
They started boarding just a minute later, and Danny was pleased to note that he wasn't sitting next to any of the team. It gave him another hour or so to himself, time to relax as much as he could, and to think about ways he could act as a guide and do his job professionally without allowing McGarrett to get any closer.
At least he'd got Grace's care sorted. Thank Christ, Matty hadn't planned to go away this weekend and was happy to look after Gracie. Miriam, their housekeeper, had also agreed to work on Monday, her usual day off, if Danny hadn't returned by then. So after that it had been just the packing -- or, rather, finding a case and throwing in anything that might be remotely useful, including the hiking boots and backpack he'd bought three years ago with the aim of trekking through Hawaii's lush national parks. Naturally, the only time he'd used them had been a day-trip with Gracie's class to Koko Head. He'd also thrown in a couple of meditation aids -- he wasn't sure if he'd get the chance to use them, but if he was going to be a guide he was damn well going to be a good guide -- and two bottles of Tylenol 3.
The one thing he hadn't brought was a packet of condoms. He had a feeling he might regret that in the long run, but he was determined not to allow the embryonic bond to grow any further, and if things ever did get a little heated, the need to go out for supplies would be a sufficient dampener … he hoped. Either that or he'd end up getting swabs and blood tests again, and the thought of that was enough to make him glare at the back of McGarrett's head.
Less than an hour later, they landed at Lihue. The amount of gear that Rosetti and Gray pulled off the carousel made Danny's eyes widen, but he stopped himself from asking the obvious questions while they had an audience. It was probably just surveillance equipment, he told himself, though he wouldn't put it past this lot to get an exemption for military explosives.
McGarrett had been on the phone as soon as they were permitted, and stood to one side From the tone of his voice, not everything was going to plan. Danny rang Chin himself, but it went straight to voicemail, leading Danny to suspect that Chin was the unlucky person on the other end of McGarrett's conversation. He sighed and concentrated on the luggage.
Five minutes later, the baggage carousel held only a couple of lonely-looking cases and a child's car seat and the crowd had dispersed.
"Everyone ready?" asked McGarrett, shoving his phone back in his pocket.
Danny nodded, having picked up his one checked bag and followed the others out to the van they'd hired.
Apparently their first stop was the hotel, which surprised Danny, but he supposed it made sense to get their gear stowed away before embarking on what could be a long and tedious hunt. Conversely, he wasn't surprised when McGarrett indicated they'd be sharing, since he was far too used to the government's attempts at economy to have expected anything else. He just hoped the man didn't snore too loudly.
The room wasn't bad: it had two double beds, a small table with two dining chairs and an en suite bathroom, but the air was a bit musty, as if the room hadn't been occupied for a few days. Danny went immediately to the windows and opened up the door that led onto a minuscule balcony, letting in the fresh air and a small sliver of sunlight.
He then did a quick scout through the bathroom and removed the toiletries, placing them in the plastic disposal bag which he then folded over securely -- hotels always used the cheapest possible ingredients for their "free" amenities and very few sentinels could tolerate them. He set out his own scent-free soap, shampoo and deodorant, and hoped that McGarrett had brought his own, since he didn't like sharing if he didn't have to. The towels seemed fairly soft to his touch, and had very little smell, so unless the sentinel was spiking, he shouldn't have a problem with them. He grabbed one of the face flannels and wiped down the sink, taps, bench and toilet seat with plain water. He left the light and fan on to remove any residual odors from cleaning products and returned to the bedroom to finish unpacking.
He could feel McGarrett staring at him, and suddenly felt self-conscious.
"What?" he asked, a little more belligerently than he'd intended. "Don't you like fresh air?"
"I like fresh air just fine. How did you do that?"
"Do what?"
"You -- you changed the room. Made it tolerable."
Danny was taken aback. What he'd done was so basic, so instinctive after years of caring for Rachel, that he'd barely even noticed. It seemed that guiding, like riding a bicycle, was a skill one never forgot. "Didn't your temp guides do a room check when you had to stay somewhere?"
"Not unless I was having problems."
"Sentinels always have problems outside their own homes. I know that airing out the room will only go some way to easing the impact on your senses, but every little bit helps, right?"
McGarrett smiled at him, and Danny felt a rather disconcerting squirming in his gut. "So," he said, hurriedly, trying to change the subject, "where do we go from here? KPD headquarters?" He picked up a couple of shirts and strode over to the wardrobe to hang them up.
"I'm waiting on a callback from the governor's office - they were going to smooth the way for us. And Chin was trying to get more information on Noshimuri's contacts here."
"There can't be many, it's a small island." Danny was now hanging up a pair of slacks. "I still can't understand why he'd come here. Why Kauai?"
"I don't know."
"Are you sure this isn't just a red herring?" asked Danny. "To get out of Hawaii, his best bet is through Oahu or the Big Island. International flights only go from Honolulu, and so do ninety per cent of the cargo vessels. Even Maui would have been a better choice - lots of tourists, flights to the mainland, cruise ships every other day, and more private yachts."
"That's true, but the major shipping lanes from Oahu to Asia pass just north of Kauai. If he wanted to make a transfer to a freighter, it would be a lot easier to do it unnoticed up here rather than closer to Oahu."
"Damn. That would make sense. It's what my gut tells me he's going to do. He could be gone already."
McGarrett shook his head. "I don't think he wants to leave Hawaii just yet."
"Why not?"
"Because I'm still alive." McGarrett's voice was flat and his face expressionless. "He's chasing me now, as much as I'm chasing him. I got his brother killed, he killed my father. We both want to find the other, and when we do, only one of us is going to survive."
"That's -- that's just crazy. This is America, we don't have blood-feuds."
McGarrett just looked at him, and Danny guiltily thought of all the killings he'd seen in his career. At least half of them had been revenge-motivated, so yes, in a weird way they did have blood feuds.
"All right, so we do," he admitted, "but they're still wrong."
"Right or wrong, I'm going after Hesse. If I get the chance to arrest him, I will, but if it's a choice between killing him and risking the rest of the team or any bystanders, I'll kill him."
Danny figured that was as much of a concession as McGarrett was going to make.
* * *
It was late when they left the station. They'd spent a largely unproductive evening talking with a couple of senior detectives from the Kauai Police Department, as well as a few informers they'd brought in, but for all that, they didn't have much more now than they'd had at lunchtime. Noshimuri's yacht had been searched, but -- as they had expected -- his papers were in order. The only suspicious fact was that there were very few fingerprints anywhere, but when every member of the crew stated that Mr Noshimuri was a clean freak and demanded that all surfaces were wiped down daily, it was hard to insist that it indicated criminal activity.
Lihue wasn't as well-supplied as Honolulu with late-night stores and restaurants, but they managed to find an Italian place not far from the hotel. Danny sniffed the garlic aroma appreciatively, and wondered if the food would be as good as the small family-run restaurant he'd frequented back in Newark. After a cursory glance at the menu, he decided on penne a quattro formaggi, on the grounds that a four-cheese sauce was difficult to get wrong. Gray ordered spaghetti all'amatriciana, while Rosetti decided on the lasagne. McGarrett bucked the trend and ordered a Hawaiian pizza, with extra pineapple.
Danny looked at him in horror. "You cannot be serious."
"Don't you like pineapple?"
"I used to like pineapple, when it came in tins and was eaten only for dessert. Pineapple on pizza is an abomination. It's put me off for life."
McGarrett raised an eyebrow. "I guess you're a plain-cheese pizza type of person then?"
"There's nothing wrong with a plain cheese pizza. Or pepperoni. Pepperoni is fine. But that's it. No fancy stuff."
For some reason that triggered off a discussion of everyone's favorite pizza toppings, and Danny soon found that he was in the minority when it came to pizza purity. Gray liked spicy toppings with extra jalapenos, while Rosetti -- in what Danny considered a complete betrayal of his Italian heritage -- enthused about a lamb and rosemary pizza he'd had in Sydney once. McGarrett just smiled and said he liked the Hawaiian the best.
One thing that Danny did pick up on was that McGarrett was eating a lot more than he normally did, judging by the covert looks he was getting from the other two. He suspected that McGarrett's sensory control when he was on his own wasn't as good as he liked to pretend, which worried him professionally, and that tonight he felt well enough to be hungry, which dismayed him personally. It was one more sign of a nascent bond, and that was something he really didn't want to think about, even though he was grateful that his own headache had gone.
He sighed. If he could get through the next few days without something disastrous happening, he'd count it a miracle.
* * *
He was woken up by a harsh, half-strangled cry from the next bed. There was something in the quality of the sound that had him up and on his feet before he even registered he was awake. He stood there for a moment, getting his bearings and casting a glance at the radio-clock -- it was 2:27. McGarrett cried out again, and Danny approached the other bed.
McGarrett was obviously having a bad dream. With Gracie, Danny would have held her until she woke up properly and calmed down, but he had a suspicion that if he tried to touch McGarrett now he'd end up with a broken limb. On the other hand, if he didn't try and settle the man down he wouldn't get any sleep himself, and a tired Danny was a very crabby Danny, as anyone who had ever worked with him could testify.
"McGarrett," he whispered, "wake up, you're having a bad dream."
There was no immediate response, so Danny approached the bed and began speaking softly, much as he did when a sentinel was in a zone, but this time the words and the intent were soothing. Eventually, he touched the back of McGarrett's hand, and was relieved at the response -- instead of a violent attack there was a soft sigh, and McGarrett seemed to relax a little. Pleased, he stayed there for a minute, rubbing the skin gently, and when it appeared that McGarrett had slipped back into sleep, he rose and returned to his own bed.
Fifteen minutes later he was back on his feet, looking down at McGarrett's contorted features. Whatever nightmare he had interrupted before had returned in force, and the sentinel was twitching and groaning. With a sigh, and a fervent plea to whatever gods there might be that he wasn't about to do something monumentally stupid, Danny pulled back the covers and slid in beside McGarrett, who immediately settled down.
Within minutes, they were both deeply asleep.
* * *
He woke at six to a harsh buzzing sound in his right ear. He tried to ignore it. In his opinion, six o'clock was an obscenely early hour at the best of times, let alone when he'd had a late night and interrupted sleep. He was deliciously warm and the covers were heavy, and ...
Oh. Right.
Memory returned with a vengeance. He was in a hotel in Lihue, lying in bed with one tall, lanky military sentinel draped over him like a centrally-heated hot water bottle, head nestled comfortably against his neck, his breath wafting over Danny's chest, stirring up currents that were disconcertingly arousing.
After a bit more mental effort, he worked out that the buzzing noise was coming from the heavy diving watch on McGarrett's wrist. He tried to shift, but McGarrett simply made a small protesting noise and tightened his grip, pressing on Danny's still-injured left arm.
"Come on, sunshine," Danny murmured, trying to lift McGarrett's arm away from his chest. "Time to get up. We have leads to follow, scumbags to find, remember?"
"Mnmfh."
"Very eloquent." With a smile and a bit more effort, Danny managed to slither out from under McGarrett's grip and headed for the bathroom.
On his return, fifteen minutes later, he found McGarrett standing on the balcony, taking deep breaths of fresh air. He was naked apart from his boxer briefs, and Danny couldn’t help but take an involuntary breath at the sight of the man's body -- lean, muscled, and so very, very enticing. He was glad he'd jerked off in the shower, and hoped that his sudden resurgence of arousal wasn't too obvious to the sentinel.
"Good morning," he volunteered, reaching into his bag for clean underwear.
McGarrett turned to him. "What took you so long? We have too much to do today for you to spend an hour in the bathroom."
Danny was taken aback. "Well, who pissed in your Wheaties this morning? I took as much time as I needed -- which, incidentally, was about fifteen minutes. And if that seems like a long time to you then no wonder you look terminally frustrated."
It was almost amusing to see the startled look on McGarrett's face, followed by a mixture of anger and embarrassment. Danny smiled sweetly at him and then deliberately turned away and dropped his towel. From behind him he heard a muffled cough and then McGarrett hurried into the bathroom.
He counted that as a win.
Part 4