Hawaii Five-0 fic: Family business - chapter 5/?
Chapter 1 (contains full headers and overall warnings)
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Rating / Warnings: R for violence; trigger warning for an OC's attempted suicide (PM me or comment if you'd like more details before reading).
Word count: 4,600 words for this chapter.
Author's note: I'd like to thank everyone who's left feedback on this story so far - I really appreciate your encouraging comments!
***
Chapter 5
The two NCIS agents, Mitchell and Bennett, report in to Five-0 HQ just before noon.
"We finally struck gold at a Vietnamese restaurant out here in Pearl City. Saigon Supreme has been making daily deliveries to a derelict warehouse at Honolulu Harbor, starting about three weeks ago," Mitchell says.
Danny grins across the computer table at Steve. This could be the break they've been waiting for.
"The owners were reluctant to give this new customer up," Mitchell continues, "because he orders so often and tips so generously. When I showed the delivery driver Curtis Howard's photo, though, he eventually admitted that was the guy and gave me the address: 1840 Waitangi St."
"Good work," Steve says, studying the map Chin brings up on the screen. "Any word from O'Connor and Fernandez?"
"They're still running down the list of places Vince Sato's parole officer suggested. She said to follow your lead on the Howard raid."
"Okay. You and Bennett meet us at the intersection two blocks mauka of the warehouse. Chin, try and find a floor plan for that building and then come join us. Danny, you're with me."
Danny obeys, instinctively, and within a couple of minutes they're in Steve's truck and on the road. Steve drives even faster than Reyes does, and Danny's frankly relieved when they reach their destination alive.
Howard's presumed hideout is in a rundown and relatively quiet section of the island's main port. Weirdly, Danny feels more at home down here than he has anywhere else on the island so far. He used to spend a lot of time at Port Newark, what with the number of bodies - mostly Mob victims - fished out of the bay. Honolulu's docklands don't look, sound, or smell all that different.
Tevita Lomu's green muscle car is nowhere to be seen, and they don't know what Howard drives. There's no steady flow of traffic or pedestrians for cover, so it's not safe to get any closer than the agreed rendezvous point. Danny borrows Steve's binoculars, calls Reyes, and asks her to run the license plate of every vehicle in sight. But none of them can be directly tied to Howard or his crew. There's nothing to do now except sit back and wait.
Danny had thought it might be awkward, being trapped in a vehicle with the cousin he just can't help picturing naked. But after only five minutes' surveillance, he wants to strangle Steve more than he wants to strip him.
"No, seriously...how the fuck does your team put up with you on stake-outs?"
"We actually haven't done any, yet," Steve says, and keeps drumming his fingers on the steering wheel.
"Right. Yeah, I guess you guys are more about shoot-outs than stake-outs."
Steve shrugs, checks his watch again, and takes yet another glance in the rear-view mirror. But the others haven't materialized in the few seconds since he last looked.
Danny sighs. "I get that patience is not your strong point, but would you cool your jets already? We can't even be sure that Howard's in there. He could be having lunch at a five-star restaurant, and tipping like a rock star. He might be up in the jungle, burying his crew - maybe they rebelled like the guys back in Philly, or maybe he shot them just to watch them die. Or he could be inside with a dozen heavily-armed goons, who are watching him roll around in a big pile of cash. We simply do not know."
Clearly not listening to a word Danny's said, Steve makes a dismissive gesture. "Chin, Mitchell, and Bennett are taking too long, and Howard might get away. So let's roll already."
"Not without back-up," Danny says firmly.
"We can handle it together," Steve argues. "You'll be my back-up."
Danny stares at him. "Are you kidding me? We've got three highly-trained people en route, the rest of NCIS and Five-0 only a phone call away, and all of HPD just itching to help catch this scumbag. And anyway, we'd be going in blind: we still don't have a floor plan for this building, and we can't get close enough for decent recon. So even if the two of us storm in front and back, Howard could escape through another door or across the rooftops."
Steve opens his mouth to argue, but only gets as far as, "I know what I'm doing, Danny -" before Danny cuts him off.
"No, no, no. You are not my boss, you are not my commanding officer, and you don't get to risk my life by pulling some crazy-ass Rambo shit. I have a daughter, okay...do you want to be the one to tell Grace you got her Danno killed for no good reason? She's your flesh and blood too, Steve, whether you like it or not."
That shocks Steve into silence, and he slumps back against the driver's seat. Danny watches him warily, in case he decides to launch a solo ninja raid just to ruin Danny's day.
"So your nickname's 'Danno', huh?" Steve says after a long moment.
"Yes and no. Gracie calls me that instead of 'Daddy', sometimes." Danny points a warning finger at Steve. "Nobody else on the planet gets to, though, so don't even think about it. And don't change the subject, either: will you wait until the others arrive, or do I have to cuff you to the steering wheel?"
When Steve sucks in a sharp breath, Danny fears he's pushed too far. But Steve exhales, slowly, and says, "Okay, okay - we hold position. Guess I can use the extra time to find out what we're facing in there."
Steve calls Lieutenant Rollins again, this time not putting the phone on speaker as he requests a satellite view of the warehouse. His tone softens as he talks to her, and her reply puts a smile on his face. Danny turns away to keep watch, jealousy leaving a bitter taste in his mouth.
He's pretty sure Steve swings both ways, judging by the way he initially checked Danny out...God, was that only Monday? It feels so long ago. But even if Danny wasn't a blood relative, he could never hope to compete with Catherine Rollins. She seems smart, funny, and unafraid of the big badass SEAL.
"Thanks again, Cath, you're the best," Steve concludes, and a thermal image of the building soon appears on his screen. There's just one live body visible, in a sitting position with only the arms moving.
Danny studies the satellite feed. "Think he's counting his cash, eating lunch, or jerking off?"
"Counting," Steve says. "Just before my SEAL team raided a drug cartel's HQ, one time, our recon surveillance showed a group of people making that same repetitive motion. We discovered over a million dollars in that room once we cleared it, plus a huge cache of pure product."
While Danny knew that Steve had done dangerous things in his commando career, it's still a shock to hear him talk about it so casually. And he doesn't know how to respond, either. Steve probably isn't allowed to reveal specific details, and probably wouldn't be interested in hearing about the far less impressive drug raids Danny was involved in back home.
Luckily, Steve's phone rings and prevents the silence from stretching out.
"We found the getaway driver, Lomu, thanks to a patrolman spotting his car," Kono reports. "Want me and Meka to start interrogating him, or should we come join the party?"
"It'd be good to have you two down here. Drop Lomu off at HQ, and get some unis to guard him until we get back. And bring your rifle, okay?"
It's as if Steve's willingness to wait for back-up is magically rewarded with a flurry of action, then. A dark blue sedan, of the kind driven by Feds everywhere, pulls up behind Steve's truck; Mitchell and Bennett get out, complaining of heavy traffic on the H-1. And Chin arrives soon after, triumphantly brandishing the floor plans he had to sweet talk out of a city records clerk.
O'Connor calls with more good news, a few minutes later: she and Fernandez have collared Sato, along with his fellow silent goon.
"He was at a dive bar in Chinatown," she explains. "Finding the last of Howard's sidekicks there too was an unexpected bonus."
Bennett grins. "So were they celebrating a job well done or drowning their sorrows?"
"Sato seemed pretty miserable - the other guy, Pika Evans, was more of a happy drunk. They weren't carrying and nobody else stepped in to defend them, so it was a pathetically easy take-down."
"Great," Steve says. "Well, I think we've got more than enough people here to arrest Howard. But you're welcome to join us, if you feel you haven't filled your door-kicking quotient for the day."
"No, you guys go ahead," O'Connor says. "We'll get started on processing these two...your place or mine, McGarrett?"
"Iolani Palace's closer," Steve points out.
"Yeah, but we've got more interrogation rooms and holding cells," O'Connor counters. "And I guarantee our coffee is better."
Danny can't help licking his lips in Pavlovian response to that; HPD's coffee is terrible, Five-0's is mediocre, and he's desperate for a quality cup of joe.
Steve glances over at him, and then tells O'Connor, "Okay, you win. Meet you back there after we've hooked the big fish."
***
Once Kono and Meka arrive, the seven of them crowd around the blueprints laid out on the hood of Chin's SUV and formulate a plan of attack. Even in this tense situation, Danny's hyper-aware of Steve's body pressed so close to his left side. It's the most physical contact they've had so far.
Now the action is imminent, Steve seems to be in his element. He's clearly accustomed to leading people who don't question him, and it's interesting how the NCIS agents - and Danny - automatically fall into line along with his own team. Maybe 'Commander' is more than just a fancy title; maybe Steve's a natural at this.
Danny's heart starts pounding when he pulls his vest on, as always, but Steve looks calm. And yeah, that makes sense...if you've taken down drug cartels and chased shoe bombers around the world, facing one bank robber must seem like a stroll in the park.
Kono is quite handy with a sniper rifle, apparently, so she takes up position on a nearby rooftop. "I've got eyes on Howard," she reports. "He's on the first floor, sitting in a chair facing the front door. There are piles of cash and a handgun on the table. No electronic equipment nearby that I can see, so if the warehouse has a surveillance system he's probably not monitoring it closely."
The team makes as stealthy an approach as possible, just in case. Then Steve and Danny burst in through the main entrance, Chin and Meka come in from the side alley, and the NCIS agents take the back.
"Five-0," Steve barks. "Curtis Howard, put your hands up." His teammates echo the demand, while Mitchell and Bennett identify themselves as federal agents. For a moment, it's a cacophony of shouted orders.
Their perp stands up, wild look on his face and pistol in his right hand. Danny readies himself to fire, if necessary, but Howard doesn't take aim at any of the six armed people surrounding him.
Instead, he raises the weapon towards his temple and snarls, "Fuck you - I won't go back to prison."
But Steve pulls the trigger first, and shoots the pistol right out of Howard's hand.
Howard screams, collapsing into the chair and cradling his right hand against his chest. Danny and Steve advance, moving carefully in case he has another weapon, while the others hold position with their guns trained on him.
Danny kicks Howard's pistol out of reach; Steve shoves the groaning perp down onto the table, cheek pressed against the stolen cash, and cuffs his hands behind his back.
"You're not getting out of it that easy, asshole," Steve tells him. Then he grins at Danny and says, "Book him, Danno."
And Danny would berate Steve for borrowing Grace's nickname for him, against explicit orders, except that a) he's still impressed by Steve's shot and b) it's hard to be angry with that high-wattage smile turned on him.
So he just says, "Uh...isn't this a joint Five-0 and NCIS bust? The only HPD detective in the room shouldn't be the one making the arrest, is all I'm saying."
"He's got a point, brah," Meka says with a laugh, holstering his Glock. "No point in muddying up the jurisdictional waters even further."
"Do the Miranda rights even apply when NCIS collars someone?" Danny asks.
"Not with Navy personnel," Bennett tells him. "They're subject to the Uniform Code of Military Justice instead. But yeah, we do Mirandize civilians."
"Oh, for fuck's sake," Howard growls, still face-down on the table. "Will somebody just arrest me already?"
The paramedics arrive within minutes, and tend to Howard's hand. Turns out Steve's bullet didn't break any bones, or even break the skin - just caused one hell of a painful sting from the impact. It really was a stunning display of precision shooting, the kind Danny couldn't manage except by sheer fluke.
"I thought you'd either kill him, or let him take the shot," Danny comments, as he and Steve lean against the truck and watch the paramedics work. "It'd be quite fitting, Howard shooting himself in the head for a change. And I would've picked you as a 'double-tap first, ask questions later' kind of guy."
Steve shakes his head. "In the field, SEALs make every effort to prevent captured enemy combatants or operatives from committing suicide. And even though all Howard's known accomplices are in custody or deceased, my first instinct was to keep him alive for interrogation anyway."
"Huh. Well, as a cop, I'd say the victims' families deserve to see him face justice, and that he deserves to spend the rest of his life behind bars," Danny says. "Either way, I'm glad you did what you did."
"I'm still figuring out how to be a cop," Steve admits. "The Navy taught me to act a certain way...drilled me to the point where my responses are pretty much automatic. Now I have to think about things like Miranda rights and probable cause. It's a steep learning curve, you know?"
Danny is surprised to hear Steve acknowledge any weakness, but he can empathize too. Although adjusting from Jersey to Hawaii is proving to be challenging, at least police procedure is essentially the same.
"Yeah, but you've put together a great team," Danny says. "Plenty of local knowledge and experience for you to draw on."
Steve smiles a little. "They're good people, yeah."
Chin and Meka emerge from the warehouse, blinking in the sunlight, and come over to join them.
"We found floor plans and recon photos on the second floor," Chin says. "Looks like Howard intended to pull more bank jobs before leaving Hawaii. There's a safe up there too, but I couldn't crack it. CSU are on their way to process the place now."
Kono approaches as well, bullet-proof vest still on and big sniper rifle slung over her shoulder. She could be a Guns & Ammo centerfold in that outfit, Danny thinks.
"Howard's been given painkillers, and the paramedics say he won't require hospitalization," she reports. "So are we taking him to HQ or to the NCIS offices?"
"NCIS," Steve says. "O'Connor and I will question him together, and then we'll figure out who gets to lay charges first."
"Can I stick around to watch the interview?" Danny asks. He imagines that Steve and his counterpart are both skilled interrogators; it'd be interesting to see them go up against a smart, cold-blooded scumbag like Howard.
Steve shrugs. "Sure."
Danny calls Zielinski as Steve drives westwards. It's 6pm in Philly, but the veteran detective is still at his desk. And when Danny delivers the good news, he's glad for his eardrum's sake that he'd put the phone on speaker.
"Hey, guys, that motherfucker Curtis Howard's been arrested in Hawaii," Zielinski shouts to his colleagues, and gets loud cheering and celebratory swearing in response. Danny looks across at Steve...and for a long moment, they just grin at each other.
Then Steve flicks his gaze back to the road, Zielinski demands to know details of the take-down, and the moment passes.
***
Danny's had a lot of unexpected experiences in the week since he arrived in Hawaii, but escorting an armed robber onto the Pearl Harbor naval base is right up there on the list. Though he'd studied the Japanese attack in school, like every other American kid, being here in person feels surreal.
And then Steve gestures towards the water and says, "My - our - grandfather died here, December 7th 1941. He went down with his ship, the Arizona, and his body is still entombed inside."
"Jesus," Danny says faintly. World War II has always seemed so distant to him; some of his relatives from Boston served, but none were killed that he knows of.
After a long pause, he asks, "Is there someplace I could pay my respects, even if he doesn't have an actual grave?"
Steve glances at him, expression suggesting surprise and approval. But he just says, "There's a memorial built over the site of the wreck, plus a monument at the Punchbowl military cemetery. My uncle is buried there...and Dad too, now. I could take you up there sometime, if you want."
"Yeah, I'd like that."
Danny has more questions to ask Steve, about Winston and how he died, but they pull up outside the NCIS offices and it's time to snap back into work mode. A military transport plane passes low overhead, the roar of its engines making Danny wince. He hopes that the interrogation rooms here are adequately sound-proofed.
Turns out they are, but it doesn't matter too much: sadly, Danny doesn't witness the spectacular battle of wills he'd been hoping for. Howard just sits stony-faced and silent as Steve and O'Connor alternately question, bait, threaten, and insult him.
Since they're in NCIS territory, O'Connor's agents are leading the other interrogations with Five-0's assistance. Danny wanders between the observation posts, fascinated by the differing dynamics in each room.
The two team leaders eventually give up on Howard. They may not have gotten anything out of the session, but Danny sure did - there's something about Steve's dominant body language that pleases some lizard part of Danny's brain. He's trying not to examine that revelation too closely, though.
Five-0, the NCIS team, and Danny convene in the bullpen upstairs once the interrogations are completed.
"Sato sang like a goddamn canary." Bennett grins. "When Chin stared him down, he acted like a nervous teenager who'd been caught shoplifting. It was beautiful to watch, I'm telling you."
"Evans confessed too - Meka was the one who broke him," Fernandez says, looking up at the older detective with something like puppy love. Danny hides a smile.
"Well, Lomu held out," Mitchell reports. "Even when we confronted him with the satellite footage showing him, his car, and Howard, he refused to admit a damn thing."
"Well, two out of four ain't bad," O'Connor says. "Good work, team. Go get some chow, then tackle the paperwork."
Danny's stomach growls at the mention of food; he'd enjoyed two cups of excellent coffee while watching the interrogations, but it's long past time for a square meal.
O'Connor jerks her head towards the NCIS conference room. "C'mon, McGarrett. We better go deal with your Governor, my Director, and the US Attorney - time to duke it out over prosecutorial jurisdiction."
Steve nods at her, and then turns to Danny. "Well, you're free to go. Thanks for your help on this case."
O'Connor expresses her appreciation, too, and the others smile at him. Danny grins back, because...yeah, it was a good day.
"Hey, you guys want to join us for lunch?" Mitchell asks him and the rest of Five-0. And maybe Danny should hurry back to HPD, but honestly he'd rather stay with these folks and just bask in their collective success for a little longer.
The NCIS agents take them to a food court on base, where - praise the Lord - there's a place that sells New York style pizza. Danny makes some quasi-orgasmic noises while he's eating, to the great amusement of everyone else at the table.
"You and that pizza should get a room," Kono cracks, and Danny spreads his hands.
"This is the first decent slice I've had since leaving home. So please, tell me: is NCIS hiring? I've only been with HPD for less than a week, but I would jump ship in a heartbeat if I could eat here every day."
Bennett shakes her head. "The four of us are pretty much it for the Hawaii field office, and none of us are going anywhere."
"So how'd you guys end up with NCIS, anyhow?" Chin asks. "Mitchell, you were obviously a detective, and Bennett...I'm guessing FBI?"
The two agents nod, and Danny is impressed - he'd picked them both as law enforcement, sure, but hadn't gotten the Fed vibe from Bennett. Chin really has good instincts.
"I was with the San Diego PD, and kept running into Agent O'Connor at crime scenes where Navy personnel were involved," Mitchell explains. "We worked well together, and she eventually convinced me to change sides. So when she transferred out here last year, I came with."
"And I was stationed at the Bureau's Honolulu office," Bennett says. "The SAC and I had some...issues, though. I wanted a change, but didn't want to leave Hawaii - my girlfriend's a local. So when a vacancy opened up at NCIS, I went for it."
Danny risks a glance at the Five-0 team, but nobody seems at all bothered by Bennett outing herself. It's good to know that Steve isn't working with homophobes, even if he's too deeply closeted for it to matter much.
The rest of lunch passes quickly, with the conversation flowing easily. They swap war stories, like cops tend to do during downtime. But Danny's acutely aware that they're surrounded by men and women in uniform, many of whom have actually been to war. And it makes him think again of Steve, and his abrupt and difficult transition from military to civilian life.
***
Danny gets a ride back to the city with Meka, since Steve's still behind closed doors dealing with the thorny issue of jurisdiction.
"So...you and Steve, huh?" Meka asks once they're on the freeway. Danny shoots him a questioning look, trying to hide his dismay at being caught out. It's a relief when Meka adds, "When did you find out you were related?"
Unsure of how much Steve wants his team to know, Danny sticks to the basic truth. "Just this week, actually, and it came as a big shock to both of us."
Luckily, Meka doesn't press for details. "Well, I'm glad Steve's got some family around - he's kinda short on relatives, while the rest of us can't turn around without tripping over them. Would you believe my son's kindergarten teacher is my half-step-first-cousin-once-removed?"
"Wow," Danny says, blinking as he tries and fails to figure that out. "And here I am, with plain old first cousins on both sides that I've never met. Your family tree would be a nightmare to draw up." There's an obvious joke to be made about Kono and Chin's being even more tangled, but Danny refrains.
Meka just shrugs. "Nah, I was raised to keep track of stuff like that: genealogy is important to us native Hawaiians. My parents can each recite their lineage back over 200 years, to pre-European times."
Danny nods, impressed. He's pretty sure Italian families tend to keep track, too...but because Ma hasn't seen her parents in 35 years, Danny hardly knows anything about that side of his ancestry. He's only met two of Ma's five siblings, and just a few of her many nieces and nephews. It's strange to think that there are other cousins he could unwittingly run into.
As they pull up outside HPD, Danny remembers something he wanted to ask his new partner's old partner.
"Hey, listen, can you give me a few tips about Reyes? She's been great this week, helping me settle in, and I want to make a gesture to say thanks. Coffee from her usual place plus her favorite kind of donut, maybe?"
"She loves these little chocolate pastries called coco puffs - you get them from Liliha Bakery over on Kuakini. They're totally addictive." Meka grins. "Actually, if you want to make friends and influence people around here, buy a whole box to share with the squad. And the baristas at Kai's Coffee on the corner know Reyes' order off by heart, so ask them."
"Thanks, man. And one more thing: I haven't told anyone at HPD about me and Steve being cousins, so would you mind not discussing it with her?"
"No problem," Meka says.
Danny walks back into the bullpen to find the other detectives eager for news.
"The captain told us the robbery crew had all been arrested, but not much more detail," Reyes says. "So c'mon, brah: spill."
It must be a quiet afternoon, homicide-wise, because most of Danny's colleagues are here and looking his way. So he sits down, and explains how it all unfolded.
As he's winding up the story, a voice from behind Danny says, "You did good, Williams." It's Captain Makaha, leaning against his office doorframe with a slight smile. "I just got a call from McGarrett, offering to write you a formal commendation for your role in apprehending Curtis Howard's crew."
Danny's pretty stunned to hear that, but he just shrugs. Even though he's proud of himself, it'd be a bad idea to brag in front of this crowd.
"If Howard had been from anywhere else on the mainland, I probably wouldn't have recognized his accent. It was luck, really; nothing special."
"Well, that's not how McGarrett sees it. But I'd still like your report on my desk, ASAP." Makaha nods at Danny, and heads over to the coffee machine.
Reyes raises her eyebrows at Danny. "Sounds like you made quite an impression on SEAL-Steve."
"We got along okay, I guess," Danny says, and turns to writing up the case.
Later that afternoon, Danny asks his colleagues' advice about local furniture stores. Reyes, Lee, and Takahashi all recommend the same place for decent but affordable stuff, so Danny heads there first and is glad to find they're having a pre-Thanksgiving sale. No doubt the savings will be even bigger come Black Friday, but Danny's back can't cope with another week on his crappy old couch.
He's helped by a handsome salesman in his late 20s, Zach, who gives Danny not-so-subtle appreciative looks as he stretches out on the various sofa-beds. It's almost a relief to flirt with a normal, nice guy who doesn't surround himself with barbed wire. Zach gives him an additional ten percent discount, throws in home delivery at no extra cost, and writes his personal cell number on the receipt so Danny can call him 'in case you have any problems'.
Danny grins at him, and leaves the store with a spring in his step. Following up on Zach's come-on might not be the best idea, since he already has enough to cope with right now. And for another thing, it didn't escape Danny's attention that Zach is tall and dark-haired, with blue eyes; it'd be unfair to sleep with the guy because he resembles Steve.
But the attention felt damn good, and it sure would be nice to try out his new sofa-bed with someone.
***
Chapter 6