Blood Brothers
By Peg Keeley


Part 4

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Lonnie lay in the dark bedroom, staring at the ceiling wondering why he had gotten mad with Steve there. Now Uncle Steve will be mad at me. He won't like me anymore. Why are things so messed up anyway? Why did I do that? Maybe Paul was right. Maybe I will never fit here. What then? Things used to be okay. We used to go to neat things. Now we just argue. It isn't fun anymore. I don't like it like this. He rubbed a sleeve across his eyes to attempt to stop the angry tears that gathered. He squeezed the red cloth in his pocket. I don't know what to do.

After some time, he began listening for sounds in the front room, but the voices were hushed. Lonnie's stomach growled, but he was too proud to go back out there and apologize so he could eat. Maybe I should never eat again and I would get sick and look like a skinny skeleton and die.. Maybe that would make Dad feel bad and care. Maybe I should just run away.

It wasn't very long after, he heard the sound of Steve's car engine and the crunch as the tires pulled out of the gravel drive. Moments later, there was a knock on the bedroom door. "Lonnie?"

He decided to pretend to be asleep.

Danny waited several minutes, then slowly closed the door and went back out into the living room to help Audrey with her Math.

---------------------

Kono always enjoyed the early morning hours just around daybreak. After all these years in Five-0, it just comes natural to be out of bed on my front porch at sunrise. It hasn't gotten hot yet, the bugs aren't bad and the kids are all still asleep. Kono loved kids, all kids. He'd been close to marriage twice, but had never taken "the plunge." He enjoyed his nephew's children. And Gary had plenty of them. At last count there were five. To them Uncle Kono was another big playmate. Kono kept a small white cottage on Kemau Street. Gary's home was two doors away and the one nestled between belonged to Kono's aging mother. Their properties were away from the hustle of the tourist part of town where they could hear the birds. Kono finished his coffee and put the paper aside, trying not to be depressed by the headlines about Max's attack. At least Steve is back. Whoever did this won't get away with it. He stretched and decided to check on his mother before going to work. Her arthritis bothered her many days and he worried about her not eating well.

He rapped gently on the front door and stepped into the semi-lit living room. "Mama?" She did not reply and he decided she was still asleep. He walked over to the tiny kitchen and prepared her two eggs and some toast with butter. The elderly women did not drink coffee, but loved orange-pineapple juice and he poured her a glass of that. He went through her medicines and carefully counted out her pain med, her blood thinner, her blood pressure pill. Everything ready, he picked up the small tray of breakfast and made his way down to the bedroom past all the years collections of nick-knacks she had placed on shelves and tables. "Mama?" he repeated gently, opening the door. He gasped in shock and dropped the tray.

------------------------------------

The phone ringing awoke Lonnie with a start. He instantly recalled the unpleasant events from the night before and that he and his dad had never reconciled. He felt instant sadness and regret. Unresolved issues were not common for them. He scrambled into his jeans, then stopped, remembering the red bandana in his pocket. What will I do? He fingered it in thought and decided to talk to Danny.

Lonnie stepped out into the hallway, headed for the front room where Danny had slept on a fold out sofa since Audrey's arrival. The boy stopped short. The old chest that occupied the corner of the room was normally locked. Now the lid was open and Danny knelt before it, sliding the last bullet into the revolver of the snub-nosed .38 that for the last several years had been locked away wrapped in black flannel inside the truck. Danny looked up, the pistol in his right hand. Their eyes met.

"Dad?" Lonnie asked.

He put the gun into the holster on his waist and rose. "It's okay, Lonnie," he stated, but there was a determined sound to his voice.

The boy blinked, speechless. "What's happening?"

"I've got to go. Kono called. Something has happened to Grandma Tutu."

"Something you need a gun for?"

Danny turned back, recalling all the years he had spent explaining the powers of observation and police detail to his son. Now that eleven-year-old son was being observant. He sighed. "Lonnie, there is someone who is very bad here, or at least his father was very bad. I think he shot Max. If he is like his father, he won't stop there. He may have hurt Grandma Tutu. Get Audrey and you to school. Make sure she gets to class okay. Pay attention, okay? Get an adult's help if you think anything is wrong."

Lonnie felt panic rising. "Is someone going to come here?"

"No, but just be safe. Think. Okay?"

He managed a nod. "I've got some friends at school now," he commented. "They will help, too."

Danny was barely listening. "Good. Having buddies is important. I've got to go." He gave Lonnie a pat on the shoulder and was out the door.

Lonnie slowly pulled out the red scarf. Having buddies is important. So, I guess since Paul and them are good guys, this is okay. He left the end of the bandana hanging out of his pocket like he'd seen BJ doing the day before. He hurried to get ready for school for the first time in weeks not dreading the trip between the elementary and middle schools. It did not even bother him that he had to wake Audrey up, get her breakfast and even help with her hair. Today will be different.

As the bus made the final slow turn into the drop off area between the schools, Lonnie felt his heartbeat quicken, his throat go dry. What if they aren't here? What if they let me down? He gripped the red cloth hanging from his pocket for reassurances.

Audrey noticed the action. "Are you scared?" Her eyes widened.

"Of course not," he snapped, but his stomachache was back.

The doors to the bus hissed open and students began to file down the steps. Lonnie and Audrey lingered to the rear of the group until they could put it off no longer. Taking a deep breath, Lonnie plunged down the steps to the sidewalk.

"Hi," came a friendly voice.

Lonnie turned with a start to see an eighth grade boy he recalled from yesterday at Paul's hideout and two other middle school boys he did not know. He struggled to remember the boy's gang name. "Hi, Me'e."

One of the other boys tugged the bandana in his own pocket, then Lonnie's. "I'm Ao, this is Makani. We've been sent to greet you, Koko. Let's not be late for school."

Lonnie gave a little grin. "Earth and Wind," he interpreted the names. "Is Ahi about?"

Ao did not seem to understand the phrase 'earth, wind, and fire.' "You've met Ahi? He's home sick today."

Lonnie shook his head. "Never mind."

As the group moved towards the courtyard, Lonnie spotted Konito and Rolli leaning against the brick wall watching him. Konito issued a fierce glare and an obscene gesture, then turned his back.

Lonnie felt suddenly elated. They are afraid! They won't be bothering me anymore! Having safely dropped Audrey off at her school, Lonnie headed into the middle school and towards his locker. As the gang members moved off he commented. "Thanks."

"No need, Koko. The time will come," Me'e remarked.

-----------------------------------

McGarrett had the phone to his ear, listening the preliminary doctor's report as Danny entered the Five-0 office. "Thank you, doctor. Yes, I most certainly want everything checked. Thank you." He hung up. "Hello, Danno."

He returned the greeting and nodded to Gary who stood near the coffeepot. "Any word?"

"The medical examiner just called. Preliminary reports conclude that Mrs. Kalahuana died from a heart attack."

"Tutu was on bunches of medicine for her heart," Gary agreed. "Maybe it was just her time."

"Maybe," Steve commented. "Maybe not. I want to know for sure. No doubt Kono will remain down at the ME's office to make sure no stone goes unturned. If Junior is anything like his father and uncle he is going to be dangerous and sly. They were cocky and proud in their attempted takeover. If Junior wants to succeed by correcting their errors, he will be much more subtle."

"Well, so far he doesn't appear any dirtier than anyone else the governor as trying out for this job," Danny commented. "His two competitors are Stanley York and Stito Kamakito." He handed over the two photos. "York comes from Las Vegas. His ties to the Ramone family are pretty blatant. Instead of hiding them, York used them as his credibility."

Steve gave a small laugh and shook his head. "Playing his weaknesses as his strengths, huh? And Kamakito?"

"He is a naturalized citizen. Is an adopted Eurasian, raised by none other that Judge Kamakito of Maui. There may be some business ties back to our friend Gordon Mack."

"Now that's interesting," Steve agreed. "Could be Mack is just covering his bases."

The door to the office opened and Richard rushed in. He held a manila envelope clutched in one head. "There was only one, Mr. McGarrett."

Gary and Danny exchanged questioning looks.

"One? Are you sure?" Steve asked, completely aware of Richard's meaning.

"Absolutely sure." He slid a small plastic zip-lock back from the envelope and held up the spent copper casing. "9mm."

"Okay, gentlemen. We have something to go with now." Steve circled the desk, still not quite comfortable with how Max had rearranged the office. He carefully placed the casing in plastic on the smooth desk surface. "Max Conner took two shots, but we have just one spent casing. Why?"

"Maybe we can't find it," Gary suggested.

"Why not?" Steve fired back.

"They gotta look harder," Gary concluded.

"Hey," Richard interjected. "It is not there. I've had officers combing through that alley for-"

Steve rose a hand. "Or what else?"

"The gunman has one and could not find the other," Danny offered quietly. "When the heat is off he may go back to look for it."

Steve nodded. "One more possibility. The spent casing could be in the car." He rapped his knuckles on the polished wood grain. "The car, gentlemen. We need the car."

Richard licked his lips. "Mr. McGarrett. I -- um -- I have something on that."

Steve looked patiently at Quinn. "Please go ahead, Richard."

He slid out a photo of the tire mark on the pavement in the alley. He walked over to the board with the drawn layout of the alley on it. "We know where one wheel was in the alley -- right here." He motioned to the small red square. We have a full sized Chevy or Pontiac. The wheel has to be the front right tire. If it was left," he motioned across the graph, "the car would have been almost on top of Max's Escort. If it was the rear, the car would have been very deep into the alley and the gunman could have been trapped. A smart killer would not have put himself into a situation where he could be trapped -- especially if he knew he was meeting a cop. I took the wheel base measurements and measured them off in the alley." He pulled out a photo. "See that?" He gestured to a scratch on the pavement. "A shoe stepped from the car, pivoted then fired. There was a pebble under the shoe that scratched the pavement. From where that scratch is we know the car is a Caddy."

Steve looked at Richard, surprise on his face. So we know why Richard came to Five-0 after all. This nervous little bumbling guy could deduce the secrets of the world from a cereal box cover once he gets going. "Well done, Richard." He looked back towards Gary. "Go back to the rentals. Look at who had a Caddy out with new tires the night of Max's shooting. I want all names."

He nodded and headed for the door.

"Danno, I need you do run out to Maui and see what you can find out about Gordon Mack." Steve sounded apologetic.

"You sure Max's budget can handle this?" he asked.

Steve grinned. "It's always easier to ask forgiveness than permission, right?" The phone rang. For an instant, Steve was catapulted back to the nightmare fourteen years ago when the Caputos had terrorized Hawaii. "McGarrett, Five-0," he said into the receiver as he lifted it. It feels so good to say that again!

Danny found himself thinking about how good it felt to be back here, to have Steve back here. It seems like we are turning back the clock. If only it was not at Max Conner's expense! I need to check on Nina today.

"Good God," Steve uttered into the phone, looking right at Danny.

My kids! Something has happened. Any light reminiscing had vanished from his mind.

Steve hung up. "Danno. There's been a helicopter crash out at Barbar's Point. It was the KOAH news chopper. Carrie Donagon was in it."

-------------------

Even before Steve's car came to a halt, Danny was jumping from the passenger side and racing towards the array of yellow fire vehicles and ambulances that were focused on the smoldering remains of the small Bell helicopter. The fire of the crash had been short, but intense enough to actually melt some of the steel structure of the craft.

Danny uttered a gasp of relief as he spotted Carrie sitting on the step of an ambulance, several medics and officials gathered around her.

"I -- I don't know what happened. We were lifting off and it just lost power. It kind of shuddered and-" She spotted Danny. "O Danny!" She jumped to her feet and pushed through the group to throw herself into his arms.

He embraced her. "You're all right! Thank God!"

She waved a bandaged left arm. "I will be. I hurt my arm. Danny, it was so awful! Joey saved my life!" Tears began streaming down her cheeks. "He tried to hold it. He told me to jump." She pointed to the dumpster about thirty feet away. "It was about twenty five feet. The boxes and trash, they broke my fall. Joey tried to hold it, to bring it down -- he couldn't do it." She looked back at the wreckage. "Joey died!"

He kept holding her, shocked by the events and by his own intensity of emotion. I almost lost her! I never told her how I felt. I can't believe this.

McGarrett watched the unfolding moment as he approached the emergency team. "Has the FAA been notified?"

A man turned. "I am the FAA."

He blinked. "That was quick."

He grinned. "I just happened to be at the field on a different matter."

Does anything ever "just so happen"? "I am Steve McGarrett," he introduced himself. "I am standing in for Max Conner at Five-0."

The man blinked. "The Steve McGarrett? The honor is mine, Sir." The man extended a hand.

"How quickly at we get preliminary information on this?"

He shrugged. "Already have some. The facts take until it cools and we can remove the pilot's body. Couple of hours. But this is a routine flight accident. Why would Five-0 be interested?"

"Death is never routine," Steve commented, glancing back towards Danny and Carrie. Who else might know of their attraction for each other? Junior perhaps? If he managed to kill a grandmother, certainly this would have been easy. But it is all so abstract. There is nothing to really take hold of. Isn't that terrorism at is best? Never knowing when or how he will strike but knowing for certain that he will.

Carrie was sobbing and shivering in spite of the morning sun. Danny wrapped the blanket the emergency crew offered around her shoulder.

"Let them take you to the hospital," he said gently.

She shook her head. "No, I'm fine. The story. I have to do the story. We have to shoot."

Danny was aware it was shock beginning to talk now. She was not making great sense. All the equipment was, of course, gone in the crash. "We can do the story later, Carrie." He glanced up to see the first of three media vans swinging into the isolated heli-pad area. It was KHON -- the competition.

"Don't talk to them," Carrie snapped in childish fashion.

"Carrie, you need to be seen by the doctors," he repeated.

She allowed him to gently guide her towards the ambulance. As the medics motioned her to sit on the stretcher, she looked up at Danny. "I love you, you know."

He just stared at her, unable to formulate a response to a statement made so completely out of context. "I'll see you at the hospital," he replied a bit lamely. He stepped back as the ambulance tucked in their charge and, sirens screaming, headed for Honolulu.

"Lucky lady," Steve commented.

"Yeah," Danny replied. She said she loved me. She was in shock and didn't know what she was saying. But what if she really does? How could she, we hardly know each other.

"Where was she going in the chopper?"

"She didn't say," Danny answered. Why didn't I ask? "She just said the craft lost power, the pilot managed to control it long enough to tell her to jump for that dumpster. Then he went down."

Steve turned to look at the smoldering metal one more time.

"What are you thinking, Steve?"

He shook his head. "I'm not sure what I'm thinking."

"You don't think this was an accident," Danny guessed.

He cocked his head to one side. "I am going to want proof that it was -- or wasn't. Why don't you stay with Ms. Donagon and see what more she can tell you."

"What about Gordon Mack and Michael James?" Danny asked.

"They will wait till tomorrow."

-------------------------

Lonnie had spent his first fearless day in months at school. As the day progressed, he inched the red bandana farther and farther out of the side of his pocket, noticing the looks he received from fellow students -- awe, fear, respect. He felt like he walked taller; girls even seemed to notice him. He wondered if his teachers even knew what the bandana signified because during the morning, there were no comments at all.

At the bell rang to announce the end of choir class, Mrs. Jones called out to him. "Lonnie, remain just a moment please."

There were the usual snickers and glares amongst the other students. The choir room was a place apart from the rest of the school. These students cared little about gangs and turf wars. Their only concern was that Lonnie's gifted voice always placed him first before Mrs. Jones and most of them were jealous.

He put his music up and walked over towards her podium, gripping his backpack tightly. "Yes, Mrs. Jones?"

"The permission slip, Lonnie."

"Oh. I forgot it," he murmured.

She eyed him closely. "Lonnie is everything all right?"

He dared to look at her for a moment before returning his gaze to the floor. "Yes, ma'am."

"Does your father not want you to compete?"

"I-I haven't asked him yet."

"You haven't asked?" She lifted an eyebrow, her dark eyes flashing.

"No, ma'am."

She sighed. "Lonnie, I want to help you if you will let me."

There is nothing left to help with -- except getting out of here. Did she see the red bandana? Does she know?

As if reading his thoughts, she slowly reached out and tugged on the red cloth until it came out of his pocket. "What's this?"

"Nothing," he whispered, staring at the cloth in her hand.

"Nothing? Sure looks like somethin' to me." She unfolded it to the painted Koko. "Blood. Lonnie, is someone out there trying to hurt you?"

"No, ma'am. It is just for fun," he tried to look sincere.

"Fun! Lonnie, didn't you know that there is a gang here that uses this as their sign?"

He tried to burn and hole in the floor with his eyes that he could fall into. He knew his face was reddening. Of all the teachers to notice. I like Mrs. Jones.

She quietly folded the bandana into a small square and handed it back to him. "Lonnie, you are a good boy, don't go pretending to be part of a gang. They are trouble."

"Yes, ma'am," he barely whispered.

"I am going to call your father tonight."

He looked up at her open-mouthed in alarm.

"To ask him to sign your competition permission slip," she finished.

"Oh," he said, trying to conceal his relief.

"Better get on your way, Lonnie."

"Yes, ma'am." He raced from the room.

-------------------------------

Steve walked quietly around the outside of Kono's mother's home again. He'd circled it a dozen times already and spent at least fifteen minute in each room inside.

"What are you lookin' for?" asked a small voice.

He looked over towards the fence where Gary's small daughter, Tia, stood, hand to her forehead shading her eyes from the sun, squinting at him. "Hi there," he replied, trying to remember the child's name unsuccessfully. "I am trying to find out what made Tutu sick."

She pouted out a lip. "My mommy said Tutu is dead. She isn't sick."

He lifted an eyebrow. So much for being discreet. He gazed again at the outside of her bedroom window. Am I looking for something that isn't here? Am I missing the thing that is out of place? He noticed a stick laying under the bush by her window and slowly pulled one end out with his handkerchief. He glanced at the wood. It was about three feet long with a craggy twist of three small branches extending in claw-like fashion from one end. The bark betrayed immediately that it had not fallen from the one tree near the house. Where did this come from? Why is it here. He glanced back at Tia. "You are Tia, right?"

She nodded.

"Tia, have you or your brothers played with this stick?" He held it out towards her.

"No!" she said emphatically.

"You're sure?" Her strong emotion surprised him a little.

"That stick is kapu," she declared. "Tutu said that stick like that is a demon stick. Bad."

He gazed at the branch. "Why?"

"See that," she pointed to the claw-like end. "There a devil in that end that can come out at night and snatch bad children."

"So where did it come from?"

She shrugged. "I never seen that one. If Tutu knew it was there, she would have got mad at us."

He looked at it again, then, pulling a tiny pocket magnifying glass from his pocket examined the window again and saw the small scratch tracings through the dust on the glass. So it was murder after all. Someone scared the dear, old woman to death. And how will I ever prove this? I can't. He felt a deepening foreboding pass over him as he looked back at the small girl who had since lost interest in him and was playing hopscotch on the sidewalk. They could have chosen Tia or any one of those kids. Someone intentionally came to this house and murdered an elderly woman as a subtle but obvious declaration to Five-0 that everyone is at risk.

--------------------------

Danny had arrived at the emergency room only to be told that Carrie was in surgery to set her broken arm. He had been shuffled off in the direction of the waiting room where three other members of the KOAH team were already chatting lightly amongst themselves and drinking coffee. He kept to himself.

In less than half an hour, a surgeon came in and announced to Carrie's friends that she was recovering and when be awake shortly, and ready to be taken home in an hour or so. The group cheered considerably, made several phone calls including one to have a camera crew on hand when she was discharged. Danny remained seated near the far wall, cuddling a cooling cup of vending machine coffee while the echo of Carrie's declaration of love for him still lingered in his mind. Did she mean that? Was she just in shock and saying anything? Look at her friends. That one guy is a young muscle-bound stud -- much more of a catch I would think. And how do I feel about her? I like her, she has become a friend over the years-a good friend. But she has never introduced me to her other friends, we've gone out to eat just once. She's never been to my house. What kind of friendship is that? Certainly not the type that would create love. She didn't mean it. Beside, I can't see myself fitting into her newscaster social life....but I would like to see her.

It was an hour later what a nurse appeared with a tired a mildly groggy Carrie Donogan in a wheel chair. Her friends burst into cheering and gather around her tittering about how awful she looked and that a crew would be here in a minute.

"You are not going to take footage of me," she announced a little hotly. "I am a mess."

"You're a hero," one replied. "Everyone in Honolulu wants to see you're okay."

"I am not a hero," she replied. "I'm a survivor. Look, I just want to go home and get some rest."

Danny had watched from several feet away and now, with a mild grin, decided to leave her to her friends. As he turned away, he heard his name.

"Danny!" she called noticing him. "Danny, wait!"

He turned back. "I just wanted to be sure you were all right."

"Danny, come here," she insisted. "Everybody -- this is Danny. You know, the guy I told you about."

She's told them about me? What has she said?

"Oh-hi, Danny," a girl said with smile.

The others replied in kind.

"Danny used to be a Five-0 man ," Carrie added. "But now he got a sane job and teaches at the university."

"Wow, you worked for Five-0?" the muscle boy asked. "Awesome."

"It's been a long time," he replied gently.

The young man smiled and commented. "Then why do you have a gun under your jacket? Teaching must be getting dangerous."

Mildly embarrassed at the newsman's observation Danny replied, "Just insurance."

"Right. Nobody but a cop can carries a gun in a hospital."

Carrie tossed her head. "He's an exception, Gentry. They let Danny Williams do just about whatever he wants, right Danny?"

"I don't know about-" he started.

She reached out for his hand. "Will you take me home?"

"What?" he replied, feeling stupid.

"Mind taking me home?"

"Sure," he nearly stammered in surprise and hastily turned to get the car.

Silence in the car lasted only long enough to clear the emergency entrance portico. "So are you carrying a gun like he said?" Carrie asked abruptly.

Danny blinked. "What?"

"A gun." She jabbed not very gently towards his right ribs with her left hand, trying to feel for the weapon.

"It's on the waist on my left side," he replied. "I'm right handed. Makes for a faster-"

"I don't want to hear this," she interrupted.

He stole a glance at her face. She's angry! God, what right has she got to be angry? "Carrie, what is this about?"

"Why are you carrying a gun, Danny?"

"For godssakes, Carrie! I have two children. Eugene Caputo's son is out there planning to clean up what his father started. Didn't Steve's demonstration teach you anything? Someone tried to kill you this morning."

She forced a guttural laugh. "Please, Williams, my friend is dead. We had a terrible accident."

"No, Carrie. Someone killed him and tried to kill you because you know me."

She looked at him, assessed his intensity as he gripped the steering wheel, knuckles white with fear and rage. "You really believe this, don't you?"

"Believe---" he was lost for words.

"So are you a cop again?"

Silence filled the car, the only interruption the soft engine purr. "I'm a teacher," he muttered, "trying to protect myself and those I love from a killer. If that means I have to join forces back up with McGarrett, then I'll follow him into hell to see the end to this."

Carrie watched the sunlight dancing off the chrome of the car. "I meant what I said this morning," she said quietly.

He stopped the car at a traffic light. About what? He said nothing.

She licked her lips. I am going out on a limb here. I've known Danny over ten years, most of that time as enemies. Her heart beat quickened. "Danny, did you hear me?"

"Yes," he murmured pretending to be watching the traffic.

"And?" she pushed.

His eyes met hers. What do I say? How do I feel? "This isn't the time, Carrie. You need time to think. You've been through a lot today, so have I."

She reached out with her good left arm and grabbed his neck, placing a kiss on his lips.

Time stopped. He looked into her serious, almost fearful eyes. Gently, he returned the kiss, timidly a first, then gaining courage and intensity as he embraced her. "Carrie," he whispered, "I-I have wanted to do that for..."

There was the blare of a car horn behind them as the driver cursed.

He jumped; noticing the light had turned green and hit the accelerator so hard the tires spun.

Carrie gave a little giggle, cheeks reddening. "Me, too, Danny. It sounds crazy. We've known each other for years -- why now?"

He assumed it was a rhetorical question and concentrated on his driving.

"Where are we going?" she asked. "I thought you were taking me home."

"I will, but it's 3:30. I wanted to check on my kids. It's not too far out of the way."

Carrie studied Danny's profile as he drove. He's a good man, a kind man. If he can keep from getting sucked back in to Five-0 he will be a great man. For the first time in many years, Carrie let her mind wander to Brad Cannon. He was a good man, too. We were to be married -- almost made it. Then Sargent Brad Cannon of HPD died making a routine domestic dispute call. Never again. No more cops.

------------------

End Part 4

Part 5


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