And So It Begins...
The first time Danny met John McGarrett he was leaning against the wall near his front door, watching uniforms come and go from inside like he had with hundreds of other investigations during his career. The initial response team had beaten Danny to the house, spurned into action by an urgent order from the U.S. Navy. Feds and cops not getting along was a movie cliché that was all too stingingly real in non-Hollywood life, but growing up near Pearl Harbor had instilled a respect for the military, especially the Navy, into every Hawaiian he’d met. The Navy says jump, cops say how high. Full cooperation was at least one thing to be grateful for, he thought ruefully, slamming the Camaro door.
From the basics so far he knew that John McGarrett’s son Steven was Naval Intelligence and had sent the order for an HPD response to his father’s house from somewhere in Korea. He was in the process of transferring a high profile gun runner, Hesse something or other, to stand trial in the states. Victor, the brother and partner in crime of the prisoner had broken into John McGarrett’s home in trying to use the kidnapping as a bargaining chip for the release of his brother in. Since McGarrett Sr. was standing in his doorway watching as his body was photographed, lying slumped in a chair still tightly bound by rope, Danny assumed the bargaining hadn’t gone well.
Danny stared long enough that the man finally noticed and turned to face him. The face was long and lined, but with worries instead of years. Dark hair and clear, intelligent blue eyes met the blond’s own and McGarrett startled slightly at the acknowledgement of his presence.
Most spirits who trapped between life and the Fade spent their first hours screaming for anyone to notice them, most growing angry as they’re words go ignored. The more dedicated, and stronger ones who seize onto the belief of someday being noticed for their actions eventually move on to become poltergeists and such, fueling ghost stories for generations to come as they deny themselves any help moving on. Then of course there were the ones that never stopped crying, trying to bargain with a god with deaf ears.
The ones who were stuck, but calm and accepting of their lot were the worst it seemed to Danny. Dead, but either too scared to pass on into the unknown, or simply too damn stubborn about staying near their families or work, making sure their loved ones lives continued on happily. A calm nod of acknowledgement from the dead man and Danny knew this man would linger. He nodded back, small enough to not draw attention from the other police on scene. They’d speak later, but now he had to begin piecing the man’s death together.
----
The second time McGarrett Sr. appeared in Danny’s life was about ten minutes before he met McGarrett Jr. for the first time. Cruising along after getting Gracie onto the bus, he’d paused at a red light to adjust his mirror and turned to face his silent passenger.
“I was wondering how long it would take before you’d talk to me,” Danny said evenly, meeting John’s eyes. “If you’re waiting for revenge or justice to find out what will happen after you’re gone, I’m sorry but it’s only been two days. Hesse is holed up and my leads are weak at best unless you can give me something else to work on.”
John stared back evenly. “I can’t tell you anymore than what you already know about my death. He got the jump on me, fucking cocksucking son of a bitch. And when his brother died he shot me clean between the eyes.”
It had been a surprisingly clean shot for one at such close range Danny’s thoughts wandered off tiredly, staring at the dead man’s forehead. Just a clean hole between the eyes with a tiny trickle of blood that had dried going down his temple as the head slumped with no life left to hold it erect. Granted the back of his skull had painted the wall behind him, but then again it was a gun shot wound to the head.
He glanced from the still red light, back to his passenger, still surprised in a way even thirty years later that spirits rarely resembled their horrific death, but instead took the picture of health they’d normally been right before. Then again, who would wish to continue the next part of their journey looking gruesome?
He chuckled to himself at the tasteless joke, then winced thinking of his company. “I’m sorry. I know this is difficult on you, but I’m as immune to death at this point as one can be without the immortality to enjoy.”
The dead man stared at him for a moment, then shook his head, whether in sadness for Danny’s jaded humor or for himself the detective couldn’t tell. “My son just broke into my home following his own misguided sense of justice and need for revenge against this man. He needs help finding peace, not me, and only you can give it to him.”
Danny’s eyes widened at this. “But your funeral only ended half an hour ago. I wasn’t sure he’d have even made it back stateside yet.”
“Help him. The Champ box holds all the clues he’ll need to start piecing together and finishing my last case. If he can track down Hesse he might lead him on to Wo Fat and where this all began.”
“Wo Fat?” Danny asked puzzled.
John shook his head, “Your light’s green Daniel. Go help my boy.”
They were both gone in the next five seconds.