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THE ROOT OF THE PROBLEM by Kathy Meyer

Mornings in paradise were a sight to behold. An overnight rainstorm had cleaned the air making it cool and crisp and relieving some of the humidity that is so common in Honolulu. The sun had risen to reveal a clear blue sky and the blue-lined storm clouds had retreated to the surrounding mountains and hung over them as if to smother them.

Steve McGarrett, head of Hawaii Five-O, responding to a call from Danny Williams, his second-in-command, was headed to the Palm Motel.

Bringing his car to a stop in the parking lot with a screech of the tires, McGarrett slid his 6-foot 2 trim frame out from behind the wheel and swiftly walked around the HPD squad car that had responded earlier. At best the place was desolate. Palm trees framed the entrance to doors and windows that looked like they hadn't been washed since the bombing of Pearl Harbor. What had once been a small yard now grew empty beer cans and broken wine bottles.

As he made his way through the lobby he saw two men hunched over a corner table playing a game of checkers. Beer cans and a wine bottle lay on the floor under the table, smiling to himself he concluded that the beer was winning. Beyond the lobby and facing the courtyard was Room 5. He returned a salute thrown by the officer stationed outside. The door to the room showed signs of being forced open, although it wouldn't have taken much to knock it open. The wood was obviously old and the paint was faded from the constant pounding of the Hawaiian sun. The number on the door was gone leaving behind only a ghostly image.

McGarrett's eyes traveled all around the room as he entered and meticulously took mental notes about the room. Old and tattered furniture decorated the interior. A desk was in the corner and had names of several people carved into the surface. The carpet was a sickly lime green and the wallpaper had yellowed from time. The air in the room contained a smell that was a combination of mustiness and the early beginnings of decay of the body. In the middle of the room the medical examiner was bent over the body. McGarrett walked over and knelt down beside the ME and grimaced at the sight of the man's beaten and bloodied face and blood-soaked clothing.

"Okay, Doc, so whadaya got."

Dr. Bergman, the county medical examiner, a man in his 50's with graying hair and a gray expression was finishing up his preliminary assessment of the body. Glanced up at the Five-O chief as he knelt down.

"Steve," He said in a weary voice as he acknowledged the Five-O chief. "I've been an medical examiner for many years, and you'd think that would make one immune to sights like this. But sometimes you just can't help feeling sorry for the victims."

Steve nodded an acknowledgement and asked, "What have we got?"

"What we have is a caucasian male, about 50 years old. Looks like there are several broken ribs. The severe bruising is probably from an intense beating. Besides the obvious condition of the body, and Steve this you'll find interesting, the beating didn't kill him." The Doc said as he looked at the Five-O chief.

"So what did?" Steve asked as he looked at the body.

Bergman spread the man's blood-soaked shirt to display two bullet holes that were side by side in the victim's chest. "This is what killed him, two shots at close range right into the heart. Looks like the gun used was a nine millimeter."

"About how long ago?"

"Two, maybe three days. I'll be able to tell you more after the autopsy." Bergman replied as he motioned for the ambulance attendants to remove the body.

"Thanks Doc. When you find the slugs send them over to Che Fong at the lab for analysis, and keep me informed." Steve requested as he stood.

"Will do, Steve." Bergman replied as he followed the attendants as they carried the body out of the room.

Across the room was Danny Williams, McGarrett's second-in-command, took notes in his ever-present notebook. A boyish-looking man with brown wavy hair, he was interviewing the man who found the body, the motel desk clerk. The desk clerk was an unsavory-looking fellow with forearms covered with tattoos of naked women. A cheap cigar was stuffed into the corner of his mouth. He looked like he hadn't shaved in days and smelled of sweat and beer.

Steve walked over to Williams. "Danno, whadaya have."

Danny introduced the desk clerk. "Steve, this is Otto Miller, he works the front desk during the night shift. He's the one who discovered the body. Mr. Miller this is Steve McGarrett."

"Mr. Miller." McGarrett acknowledged the clerk. "Did you see the victim enter the motel?"

"No I don't remember." Grunted the desk clerk.

"Do you remember anything strange happening about two nights ago? He'd have to walk right past your front desk." McGarrett inquired again already annoyed by the man's behavior.

"I must've been in the back."

"A man is dead, brutally murdered right here in your motel." McGarrett submitted, "How often do you check the rooms?"

In a gruff voice the desk clerk responded indignantly, "Every month, like clockwork."

"When was the last time you checked this room?"

Removing the cigar from his mouth the desk clerk said sarcastically, "I don't know, I don't keep track." And stuffed the cigar back into his mouth.

Danny watched the exchange between Steve and Otto Miller, continuing to take notes.

"Have you seen the dead man before?"

"Nope." The desk clerk shook his head, loosening ashes on the end of his cigar. McGarrett's eyes followed the remains as they fell to the floor. Being an avid non-smoker he watched the silent movement for a moment which reminded him of how much he hated the smell of cigars.

Refocusing on the desk clerk, McGarrett continued, "Has this room been rented to anyone in the last few days?"

"Not since the last guy was here." The desk clerk replied.

"Oh?" McGarrett replied as he sensed a possible lead as he tried to avoid the smoke that emanated from the end of the man's cigar. "When was this?"

Removing the cigar Otto said, "Oh, about a month ago, and left the place a mess." and stuffed the cigar back into his mouth. Blowing a large cloud of smoke in McGarretts' direction he asked. "Can I go now, stiffs give me the creeps."

"Yes, thank you Mr. Miller." McGarrett said as he recoiled from the cigar smoke, "We’ll be in touch."

The desk clerk walked out of the room.

Taking a deep breath, Steve turned to his second-in-command. "Any ID on the body?" he asked.

"No." Danny replied.

"Okay, make the standard inquiry to HPD and NCIC and see if a name pops up. I want to know everything about this guy. Also, call Che and get the lab boys down here and have them go over this place with a fine toothcomb. Prints, hair, and fibers the works, and make sure they get pictures of the door." Steve requested while looking around the room again.

"Could it be he was killed elsewhere and dumped here?" Danny asked.

"Maybe Danno. Maybe Che can tell us that. Were there any other witnesses besides Mr. Miller?" Steve asked.

"Chin is checking on that right now." Danny replied.

"Let me know what he finds out." McGarrett requested, as he looked around the room one more time before he left. While he drove back to his office his mind churned on the murder. Why was the body dumped there? If it was dumped, what was to be gained by leaving the body here in a run down motel where nobody would find it?

Time!

That's it!

Time is to be gained!

The victim was dumped there so he wouldn't be found for at least a few days, he concluded. But what is to be gained in those two days? What did the killer want to accomplish before somebody discovered the body? These questions ran unanswered over and over in his mind. If he knew the answers to all these questions he would be the supercop the media called him, which always annoyed him.

***

The autopsy report arrived the next afternoon. After returning from a long meeting with the Governor, Steve removed his jacket and hung it on the nearby coat rack. He loosened his tie and poured himself some coffee. Sitting down in his chair behind his desk and picked up the report. Leaning back he began to read. He did take a hell of a beating, Steve thought as he read the report. "...broken ribs, acute bruising of the abdomen, internal bleeding, deep cuts on his face, even some teeth were missing..."

Steve's reading was interrupted when Danny knocked on the door and walked in. Looking up from the report Steve asked, "What is it Danno?"

Danny strode up to McGarrett's desk and handed him the file, "Got a positive ID on the body from the motel. Our dead man's name was Paul Maxwell. He was a FBI agent out of Las Vegas."

"That's very interesting, Danno." Steve said. "Very interesting." Curiously he looked through the file. "What's an out-of-state fed doing in Hawaii, without informing Five-O he was here?"

"You know the bureau Steve. They play it close to the chest. They don't tell anybody what they are doing. Very hush hush." Danny added, "I spoke to some guy named Smithers over at the bureau. He's Fred Morton's assistant, all he was able to tell me that it was some witness protection case, but didn't elaborate."

"Yeah, I'll bet he didn't. Have you ever met the director over there Fred Morton?" Steve asked.

"No, don't think I have." Danny replied, after he thought for a moment.

"I worked with him on a few cases a couple of years ago. He's the type you don't want to get in his way."

"What if he comes for you over this?" Danny asked.

"Oh, I can handle Fred Morton, don't worry about me." Steve replied confidently.

"I know that but what about the guy standing next to you?"

"What's the matter Danno? You worried?" Steve asked with a grin.

"Yeah, a little." Danny replied with a smirk.

"Here's the autopsy report on the victim from the motel." Steve said as he handed the file to Danny, "It says he was systematically beaten. I'll just bet his killer was looking for information on that witness."

"That means that witness could be right here in Honolulu." Danny guessed as he looked up from the file.

"Yeah." Steve replied, "And if this witness is still alive, we need to find him before our killer does."

The office door swung open and Chin Ho entered with Kono right behind him. Steve asked as the detectives approached his desk. "Yeah, Chin, what is it?"

"One of the motel residents remembers seeing two men arriving at the motel around midnight, about three nights ago. Looked like one of them was drunk or something, had to be carried to the room." Chin reported.

"Did he get a look at the men?"

"No. Says it was too dark." Chin replied.

"Keep on it, Chin. Somebody has must to have seen something. And keep on that desk clerk, what's his name?"

"Otto Miller." Danny said.

"Otto Miller. I think he's hiding something." Steve said waving his hand, "His answers were too vague."

"Right boss."

"All right gentlemen." Steve said rapping on his desk with his fist as he stood. "Our body at the motel was a FBI Agent and was protecting a federal witness. Now, we don't know who or where this witness is, or if Paul Maxwell gave that information or not before he was killed. Okay gentlemen, hit the streets, find out what the latest word is. Talk to your sources, squeeze em. Our killer already has two days on us and a life is at stake now." At that word Danny, Chin, and Kono left the office.

The phone on Steve's desk rang. He picked up the receiver. It was Che Fong from the crime lab. The medical examiner had sent over the bullets from the body at the motel. He had the results of his examination and suggested that Steve come to his lab, he had something to show him. Hanging up the phone he headed for the crime lab.

When Steve arrived, Che invited him to look through his microscope as he explained what he was looking at. "The slugs are standard nine millimeter. Examination of the rifling indicate that this gun has six rifling grooves."

"Six grooves huh? What does that do for us?" Steve asked as he looked up from the microscope.

"It means that the gun used was of European manufacture. Because most guns manufactured here in the States and some from other European countries have four maybe five grooves, but not six."

"Thanks Che. You've just eliminated all the four and five grooved American-made guns from the list."

The lab man looked at the Five-O chief and nodded his head.

"Can you identify what gun was used?" Steve asked.

"It'll take some time but I'll see what I can do." Che replied.

"Thanks Che, that will be a big help." Steve replied as he left the lab.

***

In his room at the Ilikai Hotel Evan Paxton relaxed as he cleaned his SIG P210 nine-millimeter semi-automatic pistol. He was a tall man in his mid 30's with dark hair and a slightly muscular build. His skin was tanned from the many hours he spent out in the sun. American by birth, he grew up in Switzerland. As a young man he had a very close friend in Hans Roquefort, an ex-militiaman and semi-retired political radical. During his stint in the Swiss Army he had to agree with the government. Upon his discharge he began to vocalize his disagreement with the government. What had attracted the young Paxton to him was the man's ideals and how he saw the governmental structure of their country.

As he wiped the cloth over the weapon he remembered his close friend. He had looked upon the older man as a mentor and admired him and listened to his stories with great interest. When one dark day he was to witness his friend's death when the Swiss police gunned him down in the street. From what he saw was for no good reason. For the police it was a righteous shoot. Roquefort had been the facilitator of an unruly crowd that was becoming violent.

Since Hans' death, he had grown to despise authority figures. It had made him angry enough to purposely ambush the officer that killed his friend and to kill him himself.

Taking the weapon from the dead officer, he had held it in his hands angrily. Squeezing it hard he grew angrier because he was trying very hard not to cry. He knew that this was the gun that the officer used to kill his friend. As he thought about Hans, he remembered the strange feeling that came over him. It was a numbness that never seemed to go away. Is this how it feels to kill someone? He asked himself. If I don't feel anything he thought, then I can do this again. So he sought out the organized crime leaders in Geneva and offered his services to them as a freelance assassin. After much discussion, they took him in. And here he learned his trade and learned it well. He made Interpol's most wanted list in just a little over a year and earned the moniker of the Iceman, because he was cold blooded in the way he did his work.

Since then he didn't make any friends. Everything was strictly business because he wouldn't and perhaps couldn't trust anyone.

When he finished cleaning his gun he placed it and the cloth down on the coffee table and walked out onto the lanai of his hotel room to savor the view of Honolulu. With his arm he wiped his brow as he surveyed the city like a hawk searches for prey while he lit up a cigarette. He hated the tropical heat and humidity, it made him sweat and he didn't like to sweat. It reminded him too much of the jungles of South America. He wanted to finish this business and get out of this 'paradise' as soon as possible.

A knock on the door turned the Iceman's attention from the scenery. He returned from the lanai and walked toward the door. He scooped his gun off the coffee table and shoved in the clip as he approached the door. Pulling the slide back and cocking the weapon he held it at the ready in front of him. "Who's there?" He asked cautiously.

The voice said from the other side of the door, "Jimmy Ling."

The Iceman opened the door, and Jimmy Ling, a local, entered the room. The Iceman had a colleague contact this man and arranged this meeting. Jimmy Ling was a small time street hustler who knew the Honolulu streets very well.

"You're late." The Iceman barked as he put his gun on safety and tucked it into his waistband.

"Don't sweat it bruddah, I'm here now." Jimmy said coolly. The Iceman looked down the hallway in both directions to see if he had been followed.

"I wasn't followed." Jimmy said a bit insulted sauntered over to the sofa and sat down. "What's up bruddah?"

"I need you to find someone for me, and I'm not your bruddah." The Iceman said coldly as he handed the picture of the woman that he needed found to Jimmy.

"Classy wahine!" Jimmy exclaimed as he looked at the woman in the picture. "What'd she done?"

"None of your business," the man snapped, "just locate her and I'll take care of the rest."

"Ok, your money bruddah." Jimmy, unoffended by the man's attitude, smiled as he stood. "You know my price, do you have it?" He asked. Jimmy Ling's price for this kind of work was five hundred dollars.

The Iceman walked over to the bed, reached into his suitcase and produced an envelope and threw it at Jimmy, who caught it against his chest with one hand. He opened the envelope and examined the contents. "Where's the rest of it?"

"Half now and the rest when you finish the job. There's a bonus in it for you if you find where she's staying." The man replied, "When you find her, call me. I don't want you coming back here."

"Fair enough. Hang loose bruddah. I'll be in touch." Jimmy said as he waved his hand and smiled, as he moved toward the door and left.

What an asshole, the Iceman thought. He disliked people who smile too much.

The Iceman sat down on the sofa and picked up the phone. He dialed a long distance number. While waiting for the connection he took a long drag on his cigarette. A deep voice answered. "Yeah?"

"Yeah, it's me." The assassin said.

"Did you make contact?" The voice asked.

"Yeah, the guy showed up at the airport, just like you said he would."

"And?"

"The son-of-a-bitch wouldn't talk." The Iceman said as he took a drag on his cigarette, "He took everything I gave him and didn't crack." Flexing his right hand he looked at the red marks on his knuckles.

"What's your next move?" The voice asked.

"I've been in touch with a local hustler and gave him the picture. He'll work the streets. Don't worry he’ll find her." The assassin assured the man.

"Do you trust him?"

"No I don't, but as long as you pay his price, he'll do most anything." The Iceman confidently answered. "If not, I'll deal with him."

"He'd better be successful, it's taken me two months to get this close, and I don't want anything to screw this up now. The feds here are getting too close." The voice said dryly. "Don't fail me Mr. Paxton, I don't need to remind you of the consequences if you fail."

"Yeah I know." Paxton replied annoyed as he hung up the phone and took another long drag on his cigarette. Leaning back on the sofa he exhaled perfect round smoke rings. He stared at the ceiling as he rolled his cigarette back and forth in his fingers and contemplated his next move. He was beginning to have bad feelings about his association with Lou Sanders. The man enjoyed pushing people around and wielding his influence. And he felt he had been pushed and threatened once too often. He soon decided that this would be the last time he would work for this man.

Although it had been a profitable association in recent years, he felt he needed to move on and work for somebody else. Maybe someone else could pay more for his services he thought, and without the use of threats. He didn't like being threatened, not by this guy, or by anyone.

***

Soon after the meeting, Jimmy Ling started his search. He contacted his network of street friends with a promise to pay them a few bucks if they helped him locate this woman. He gave them copies of the photo and sent them on their way.

They spread out across town starting at the Ala Moana Shopping Center. The picture was shown to store clerks, shoppers, and supermarkets in the area, and other stores up and down Waikiki. They canvassed King Street from Kapiolani Boulevard to Alapai Street, even approached passersby with the story that she was a good friend and he hadn't heard from her in over two days and he was very worried about her.

Two days had gone by without success until a clerk at a small market on Beretania recognized the woman in the picture and said she knew the woman and that she comes in about every two weeks and was due in the next few days. Jimmy thanked the clerk graciously and left. He found a phone booth just down the street from the store where he called his benefactor and gave him the name and location of store where he could find the girl in the picture. It was agreed that they were to meet that night in an alley a block from the store at nine o'clock, where Jimmy was to collect the remainder of his fee. Unknown to him that this would be his last hustle.

Earlier that same evening the Five-O detectives were assembled in McGarrett's office to report their findings from their street sources. Danny began first. "Word on the street is that a street hustler named Jimmy Ling, with the help of some of his cronies have been showing a picture of a woman around town for the last couple of days, saying she's a missing friend."

"Who's Jimmy Ling?" Steve asked curiously.

"A small time street hustler." Danny replied. "Hustles tourists for whatever he can get, not the kind that wouldn't expend a lot of energy without being paid for it."

"Then he's working for someone." Steve stated, as he looked at his staff. "Any ideas?"

"He was seen leaving the Ilikai two days ago Boss." Kono jumped in. "Maybe somebody who's staying there."

"Kono, get a description of Jimmy Ling over to the hotel desk clerk, see if anyone remembers seeing him and who he visited. And get an APB out on our friend, I want to talk to him." Steve requested.

"On it, boss." Kono answered.

"That's it gentlemen, I've got a feeling we are just getting started with this case and we're already behind." Steve said tiredly as he walked over the to the lanai window and stared out over the moonlit palace lawn and the palm tree-lined King Street outside his window. It had been a long day and there were very few leads.

Jimmy arrived first. Fifteen minutes later the Iceman arrived. Seeing his benefactor approach from the street Jimmy walked toward him. But instead of an envelope with his money, he pulled out his silencer-equipped SIG and pointed it at Jimmy.

Two muffled shots brought Jimmy's hustling days to an end.

***

Danny was already in when Steve arrived in the office the next morning. "We already have a response on that APB on Jimmy Ling." He advised.

"Already?" Steve replied as he put his briefcase down on his desk. "That was fast, where is he?"

"The morgue." Danny said as he handed Steve the police report.

"The morgue?" Steve's eyes opened wide in surprise as he took the report from Danny. Opening the folder he scanned the pages as Danny continued.

"HPD found him last night in an alley off of Beretania. He was shot twice at close range with a nine millimeter. Sound familiar?"

"Yeah it does, just like the victim at the motel." Steve commented sensing a possible connection.

"Do you think there might be a connection between the killing of Paul Maxwell and Jimmy Ling?" Danny asked.

"Maybe." Steve said thoughtfully. "Get the lab boys over to that alley, see what they can turn up."

"Already called them, Steve. I'm meeting them over there just in case they find something." Danny said as he turned to leave. "Good, keep me informed." McGarrett called after him.

"Will do." Danny replied as he left.

Steve's attention returned to the police report on Jimmy Ling. He sat down and leaned back in his chair to study the report. Danno may be onto something if the murders of Paul Maxwell and Jimmy Ling were connected, Steve thought. And if the ballistics report comes back that confirms that it was the same gun that killed both men that would be a definite connection.

Included in the report was a bloodstained photograph that was found on Jimmy Lings' body. Nice looking lady Steve thought to himself as he angled the photograph to get better a light on it. It was a candid snapshot of a hazel-eyed woman with shoulder-length blonde hair. What was her connection to Ling, he asked himself. Girlfriend maybe? Maybe not. As he studied her face it struck him that she would have more class than to associate with the likes of Ling, but it takes all kinds he mused. He returned the photograph to police file and placed it on top of the coroner's report on Paul Maxwell, and frowned at the growing stack on his desk.

The buzzing of the intercom interrupted Steve's thoughts. Jenny informed him that Fred Morton was in the outer office and wanted to see him. Fred Morton was the Director of the FBI office on the island. This average-looking man was known to work 'by-the-book' and had the potential to be a major pain in the ass. Steve knew instinctively why the Director was here to see him. It was about Paul Maxwell. He was surprised that it took him this long to come see him after Williams' phone call earlier. He asked Jenny to show him in. She opened the office door to allow the Director to enter and closed the door behind him as he approached Steve's desk.

A man in his late fifty's, everything about Fred Morton was average. Average height, average build, but had a waistline that showed he enjoyed gourmet foods. His thinning hair was becoming lighter with the increasing number of gray hairs entered the room like a bull.

"Hello Fred." Steve said as he stood. The men shook hands and Steve motioned for the Director to have a seat in one of the two chairs facing the desk. Morton sat down as Steve began. "What can I do for you?"

"Let's cut the formalities Steve, you know as well as I do why I'm here."

"I do? I can take a guess and say it's about the FBI agent that was found dead yesterday at the Palm Motel. Am I right?" Steve stated as sat back down and leaned back in his chair.

"I'm here because of the phone call Smithers got from your man Williams yesterday. I want to know what you have on the case so far." Morton said aggressively.

"I don't know what I have." Steve admitted making a wide gesture with his hands dismissing the man's aggressiveness. "When I have something I will let you know. In the meantime, I would like to know is why a mainland bureau man was working here in Hawaii without Five-O being notified? And whatever happened to inter-agency cooperation?"

"This case was just too important, Steve. That information is only on a need-to-know basis. The Director said confidently. "Besides, the bureau can handle this."

Steve got up from his chair and walked around to the front of his desk and sat down on the corner of his desk and calmly said. "Fred, I don't need to remind you that Five-O is involved in any case that involves murder. If the bureau was handling this case so well, why didn't you know that this man had been dead for the last three days?" He stated expressing his authority.

"Steve, there are other concerns here, not just this man's death." Morton replied confidently as if he didn't care that a fellow agent was dead. "There are some cases the bureau can handle without the locals being involved."

"Come on Fred." Steve barked as his demeanor shifted to the offensive. Quickly coming to his feet he strode to behind his desk. "Why? Because you're superfuzz and we're supposed to contend ourselves with the chicken fights and illegal parking?" Jabbing his finger on his desk for emphasis Steve looked harshly at the Director. "This man was brutally murdered. That's homicide on the local level. And that makes it my jurisdiction."

Steve picked up the file on Paul Maxwell from his desk and tossed it to the Director that contained the coroner's report and 8 x 10 photos of the crime scene and tossed it at the Director. Catching the file Morton took a moment before flipping it open. Steve stood waiting as the Director's face reflected the horror of what he saw in the photos. When Morton looked up Steve continued to state his case giving the Director little chance to recover as he ticked his points on his fingers. "Besides Paul Maxwell, I've got a dead street hustler. Both killed in the same way. Two shots to the chest at close range, possibly with the same gun. The ballistics report on the first victim showed that the gun used was of foreign manufacture. Two murders Fred." Steve held up as many fingers. "Two murders in three days Fred, possibly connected. And you can't sit there and expect me to believe the bureau can handle this without Five-O being involved."

"All right." The Director admitted. "Steve, you've made your point. I still believe the bureau should handle this. It's our case and I'm not obligated to tell you anything."

"That's bull Fred and you know it." Steve barked, "Five-O has jurisdiction over all murders that take place in this state." Giving Morton a harsh stare, "I ask you again, what was Paul Maxwell doing here in Honolulu and what was he working on?"

Morton sat silently and rubbed his chin and mulled over his options while Steve stared at him waiting for an answer. Steve could see that the man was hesitating, so he decided to play his trump card and opened the police report on Jimmy Ling and handed him the photograph.

"I think this might help you decide."

Morton immediately recognized the woman in the bloodstained photo. His face lost all expression and a lump began to swell in his throat. "Where did you get this?" He asked holding the photo, his hand shaking slightly.

"It was found on the body of Jimmy Ling, the street hustler I told you about. He had been seen showing that photo around town claiming she's a missing friend." Steve replied calmly, "Do you know who she is?"

Two months of work was just got blown out of the water, the Director thought. The face smiling in the photo was the witness that Paul Maxwell brought to the islands for safekeeping. Only the people in his immediate office knew that she was even in the islands. After a moment he finally spoke. "Her name is Marta Michelson. She is, or rather was Paul Maxwell's assignment. She's under the bureaus' protective custody. Because her testimony is vital in a case that the bureau has been trying to build against her former employer in Las Vegas. His name is Lou Sanders." Morton said as he handed the photo back.

"Who's Lou Sanders?" Steve asked.

"He owns a import export business in Las Vegas by the name of Peerless Imports." The Director replied. "Which is also a known front for a money laundering operation for the local mob. The bureau wants to prove that he has been bribing state officials to look the other way. And he's not above hiring somebody to convince them if they don't cooperate, if you know what I mean." Steve nodded his head as his visitor went on. "We also believe he's directly responsible for the car bombing death of Miss Michelsons' friend, Bonnie Carruthers. He's a very slippery character. Every time the bureau gets lucky and secures a witness to testify, he gets to them somehow. They are either scared off and or they turn up dead. That's why it's imperative that Miss Michelson has to be protected. That's why she's here." The Director finished with his own hard stare at the Five-O chief.

"Who does he use to get to do his convincing, as you put it?"

With thoughtful apprehension Morton replied. "He has been known to use a guy by the name of Evan Paxton. His moniker is the Iceman."

"Iceman, huh." Steve replied thoughtfully, "Do you have a file and picture of him available?"

"Yes, I do." Fred replied his voice feigning cooperation. "I can have a copy of the file sent over today."

"Fine. I also want all other pertinent information you have on this case." Steve replied. "Do you have a location on him?"

"According to our information, as of two weeks ago he was skiing in Colorado." Fred replied.

"So am I to understand that Miss Michelson is here in Honolulu?"

"Paul has her at a house in the Kaimuki Distict." Came the hesitant reply. "You're not intending on going over there are you?"

"That's the procedure for protecting a witness isn't it?" Steve said as he picked up a pencil. "What's the address?"

"Steve, you know I can't give out that information, it's classified!" The Director exclaimed. "Paul Maxwell was the only one with access, that's the way he worked. The fewer people that knew the location, the lower the risk."

"That's just fine, for your office, Fred. This is Five-O's jurisdiction and I insist that you give me the address." Steve demanded as he drilled the Director with a hard stare.

"Well, ok," Fred reluctantly replied, "But you're not going over there without me." The Director insisted thinking that this was his hold card over the Five-O chief.

"Alright Fred." Steve replied, "You can come along." And repeated his request. "What's the address?"

Morton reluctantly gave out the address of the house. "1205 Maunaloa Avenue." Which was located across town near Diamond Head.

Steve followed up and asked. "Do you have anyone with her now?"

Morton answered with a shake of his head. "No."

"She's alone? Now?" Reeling from the Directors answer, Steve swiftly walked to his office door and jerked it open. "Let's not keep the lady waiting Fred, shall we go?" Seeing Williams was in his office on the phone, Steve called to him. "Danno, get your jacket."

The young detective quickly ended his conversation and hung up the phone. He struggled into his jacket as he followed Steve and the Director out of the office and out to the parking lot where they all climbed into McGarrett's Mercury and sped toward the house.

During the drive Steve took the radio mic and contacted Central Dispatch. He requested an APB on Evan Paxton. Adding that the man is to be considered armed and dangerous and not to approach, only to observe and call Five-O. Steve handed the mic to the Director and told him to add the man's physical description to the APB. The Director looked at the Five-O chief for a moment not sure of what to do slowly took the mic from McGarrett. Depressing the button he gave the description to the dispatcher. When he was through he handed the mic back to McGarrett, who went on to request that HPD send a car with a policewoman to the Maunaloa Avenue address.

***

The Iceman had parked his car across the street from the Hoawa Market so he could watch for his target. She should be coming by any day now according to what Jimmy Ling said, he thought. Carefully, he eyed each woman who entered and exited the market. Tall, short ones, wide ones, teenagers and seniors. The women were of various nationalities and so far none of them looked familiar. He had given the only photograph he had of the woman to Jimmy Ling, and cursed himself for not being able to find it on his body, but didn't dwell on the thought. His work was so impersonal, cold and calculated. Walking up to a person and just shooting them. He liked it best to look them in the eyes, seeing their reaction to being shot dead as their life drained from them. That's how he acquired the nickname the Iceman, and was well named.

After waiting and watching all morning, there she was. He watched her walk into the market. Her hair was longer and bleached by the sun to a blonde. Other than that not looking much different than the photo. After she finished her marketing, she got into her rental car and entered the traffic flow of Beretania Street. Traffic was not heavy this time of day and following her was not difficult, but he did leave some distance so he wouldn't be spotted. He got a good look at the car and license number so he wouldn't loose her in traffic. He decided he would do it at her house.

Marta Michelson steered her car down the Lunalilo Freeway taking the 6^th Street exit and drove toward the house where she had been staying for the last two months. But today was different. An uneasiness had come over her over the last 24 hours. She hadn't seen Paul Maxwell for the at least three days. He was the FBI Agent that brought her here to Hawaii. He had told her that he was going to the airport to pick up another agent he was told was coming to help him, and would only be gone only a short while. And she hadn't heard from him since. She was becoming scared that something's happened to him. The events that followed in the next couple hours were to confirm her fears.

After putting the groceries away, Marta nervously took the phone to the sofa and sat down. She stared at it for what seemed like hours, as she tried to muster enough courage to call the police and report a missing person. But Paul told her that under the current circumstances, no one is to know who she was and where she was.

The ring of the doorbell made her jump and nearly knock the phone off the coffee table. Nervously she placed the receiver back on the cradle and composed herself the best she could and took a deep breath. She wondered if this could be Maxwell, but he has a key. She called him Maxwell because it seemed to take the edge off the stress she had endured during the last two months.

She slowly approached the front door. Her fingers fumble with sliding the security chain onto the door, opened it until the chain was taut. On the porch steps stood three men dressed in suits, one was tall, very striking, wearing a dark blue suit, the other was shorter, kind of stocky, in a tan suit, and the third was average, wearing a black one. They were accompanied by a uniformed policewoman. Behind them parked on the street she saw a police car and a big black sedan. The man in the blue suit began to speak.

"Marta Michelson?"

Marta nervously nodded her head as she still peered through the opening. All three men displayed their badges and IDs. McGarrett began. "My name is Steve McGarrett of Hawaii Five-O, this is my associate Dan Williams, and Fred Morton of the FBI. May we have a word with you, it's very important."

"Why?" She nervously asked after a few moments. Stunned that this man whom she's never seen before, knew her name, and the police for that matter, "How do you know my name?"

"Miss Michelson," McGarrett repeated, "please, may we talk inside." He could see the indecision in the woman’s eyes.

After several moments she asked the men to wait a minute. She closed the door and released the chain. Pausing momentarily she took another calming deep breath. What would the police want with me she thought. They aren't supposed to know her. She opened the door all the way and allowed the men and the policewoman to enter. Marta Michelson was a tall and slender woman in her late 30's, her light brown hair could easily be called sun-bleached blonde that cascaded down from a ponytail. Her hazel eyes were radiant against her tanned skin. Closing the door she turned her attention to the men. "What is it you want?"

"Miss Michelson," McGarrett began, "There isn't a lot of time so I will come straight to the point. We believe there is a hired assassin on this island. And he's looking for you. He's already killed two people that we know of."

Marta shuddered and thought that maybe would be a good a time as any to report a missing person. Said hesitantly with a worried look on her face. "There's been an FBI agent staying with me. His name is Paul Maxwell and I haven't seen him for a couple of days. I'm afraid something's happened to him."

McGarrett said sympathetically, "I'm sorry Miss Michelson. His body was found yesterday morning at a motel near the airport. He had been beaten and tortured."

The words hit Marta like a runaway truck and her heart sank. "Oh no." She gasped as she covered her mouth with her hand. Then anxiously asked, "What happened?"

"What we know so far is that his killer was after information. Information on you."

Marta's face went pale, as the Five-O chief continued. "What we don't know is what information, if any, his killer got out of him before he was killed."

"The method used was a trademark of a known assassin who has worked in the past for Lou Sanders." Morton added.

For Marta, that one statement explained it all. Lou Sanders had found her.

"He goes by the name of the Iceman." Morton added.

Marta looked at the FBI man and back to McGarrett in shock and disbelief. "He's looking for me, isn't he?" She said trying to control her increased feelings of panic.

"Yes." McGarrett replied. "We believe he is."

Looking from one man to the other trying to keep herself in control. She exclaimed. "How did this killer know I was here in Honolulu? My location was supposed to be classified! How did he find out!"

"We don't know that." McGarrett said as he tried to assure her as best he could, "But we're looking into it."

"You're looking into it!" Marta retorted exasperatedly as she looked at the Five-O chief, "This guy wants to stop me from testifying, doesn't he? I don't want to sound like I’m being indignant Mr. McGarrett, but just how long is that going to take? I'm taking a big personal risk here and what you're telling me scares the hell outta me!"

"Miss Michelson, please calm down." McGarrett said. "I want to assure you, that for the remainder of your stay in Hawaii you will be in Five-O's protective custody."

"Seems like I remember hearing that somewhere before." Marta said glaring at Fred Morton. Then shifted her gaze to McGarrett, her voice edged with exasperation. "So, what happens now?"

"We're going on the assumption that this location has been compromised and this house is no longer safe. I want to take you to a Five-O safe house. So please, pack a bag, enough for a few days. This policewoman will assist you." McGarrett instructed. He motioned to the policewoman to follow Marta to the bedroom.

Glaring at the FBI man Marta stated indignantly, "I hope that your Five-O does a better job than the FBI. They can't seem to keep a secret." Turning on her heel she walked back to the bedroom with the policewoman right behind her. McGarrett's lips curved into a small amused smile. Williams, seeing his chief's expression, mirrored it with a smile of his own. Quite a headstrong lady Steve thought as he glanced over at Fred Morton whose expression reflected that he was not amused.

During this time, the Iceman drove his car slowly past the house and looked hard in its direction. Parked in front was an HPD squad car and a black Mercury sedan with an officer standing guard on the front lawn. He growled that somehow the cops got to her first. With them around the plan of the robbery wouldn't work.

He continued to scan the street near the house for a prime spot to make the attempt. He saw that the house diagonally across the street had dense shrubbery in front. Next to the house there was an alley that would be perfect for a fast getaway. Parking the car in the alley he retrieved from the glove compartment his pistol and its silencer. After screwing it on he checked the breach making sure it was loaded. Exiting his car he made his way stealthily toward the tallest shrub and waited for the cops to leave.

It took Marta some minutes to think clearly enough to collect everything she needed from the bathroom and closet. This whole thing had upset her terribly because she had done this before some two months earlier and here she was packing in a hurry again. She wondered why it seemed harder this time. Collecting what she needed to take the policewoman packed the suitcase. It didn't take long before the suitcase was filled and closed. Danny took the suitcase from Marta as she entered the front room and opened the front door for everyone to leave the house. McGarrett grasped Marta's arm and escorted her out of the house and made their way down the walkway toward the cars.

As the parade came out of the house, the Iceman took his stance and placed the pistol against a branch of the shrub to steady his aim. Hunching he focused his aim on the woman through the sights on the barrel and squeezed the trigger.

The sidewalk between the house and the curb had risen due to the roots of a tree in the yard. Marta tripped on one of the rises. She yelped out in pain as she grabbed her arm. Her legs collapsed under her and slumped into the Five-O chief.

Catching her he saw the pain on her face and noticed blood was becoming visible between her fingers. Through gritted teeth she said. "You weren't kidding when you said you didn't have a lot of time."

Not paying any attention to the woman's remark, he called to every one to get down by yelling 'Sniper!' He helped her to cover behind his car as the other detectives and officers rushed for cover behind the cars. They pulled their pistols and peered over the vehicles to look for any movement by the sniper. Slowly McGarrett lifted Marta's trembling hand to look at the wound. He'd seen enough bullet wounds in all his years as a cop that he recognized marks left by them. "Take it easy it's just a crease." He told her as he took out his handkerchief and gently placed it on the wound and replaced her hand over it and instructed her to keep pressure on it.

The assassin felt confident enough that he had hit his target, he lingered behind the bush for a few moments watching intently for subsequent activity that would confirm his success.

From his position by his squad car Officer Kipala noticed some movement behind a tall shrub in the front yard of a house down the street just as the woman fell. McGarrett needed to have this information he thought. Crouching, the officer made his way to the Five-O chief and told him what he saw.

Steve's heart was pounding as he pulled out his pistol and held it ready as he peered over the trunk of the car. He tried to see where Officer Kipala had seen the movement only to be forced to duck when another bullet shattered the back window showering him with broken glass.

The assassin watched as the officer moved between the cars readied his gun for another shot. He saw a head peer over the trunk of the black sedan. He fired another round to keep that head down and hit the back window sending glass fragments flying.

Danny joined Steve and Officer Kipala behind the car. "Did you see who it was?"

"Not close enough." Kipala replied. "Can't see clearly through the shrubs."

"Ok, Danno, you and Kimo, flank him from that direction." Steve said as he pointed in the direction up the street. "We'll cover you from here, and Danno, keep your head down."

"Right." Was his stoic response.

McGarrett rose up to enough to see clearly over the trunk of the car. This time he was able to see some movement and a glint of sunlight on metal in the bushes where Officer Kipala indicated. He watched Danno and Kipala as they made their way across the street.

The Iceman, satisfied that the hit was a success prepared to make his exit until he saw two of the officers cross the street and approach his position from up the street. The muscles tighten in his face. He clenched his teeth and tightened his grip on his weapon.

When McGarrett saw that Danny and Kipala were in position and ready to make their move he yelled out, "This is McGarrett, Hawaii Five-O! Throw out your gun and come out with your hands up!" Keeping an eye on the bush for any movement that the gunman might make and one on his men as they approached the suspect's position.

The assassin's attention was now split between the approach of the officers to his flank and the voice that came from behind the black sedan. He had to distract the two men from coming closer so he could make his escape. He fired a couple of shots toward them he then shifted his aim to the cars. He fired repeatedly, breaking windows and perforating fenders. Finally, the light on the top of the squad car shattered under the onslaught of bullets.

Danny and Kipala ducked behind a nearby-parked car for cover as they caught a glimpse of the gunman as he ran off toward the alley. He quickly jumped over a low picket fence that bordered the alley and disappeared behind the house. The officers quickly moved to the driveway to the alley and stopped at the corner of the house. The fence ended at a walkway at the front of the house. Each man silently thanked the homeowner for not building the fence all the way up to the house, and so they wouldn't have to climb over it. Hearing footsteps running on gravel, Danny took a quick look around the side of the house. He saw the man running to a car parked in the alley. He motioned to Kipala to take a position on the other side of the driveway.

Kipala was halfway across when the gunman turned suddenly from getting into the car. He saw the officer and quickly raised his gun and fired. Danny watched in horror as Kipala was felled by the gunman's bullet. He wanted to help the officer but couldn't without exposing himself as the next potential target. He tried to calm his breathing as he glanced between the cars across the street and the wounded officer lying on the ground. And prayed that this wouldn't get him killed.

Setting his jaw with determination Danny silently urged the officer to hang in there as he stepped out from behind the house and took aim at the escaping gunman. A glimpse was all the detective got before the gunman trained his weapon on him. He was forced to dodge back as the bullets struck the corner of the house sending splinters flying just inches from his face. Seconds later he hears the engine start. He peers around the corner again in time to see a car speed off down the alley spewing gravel in its wake.

Danny chased after the car on foot for a short distance, then stopped and squeezed off a couple of rounds at the escaping car. His aim broke the back window and the taillight before the car turned onto the intersecting street leaving the detective in its dust. Swearing under his breath he holstered his gun and returned to the officer. He knelt down next to the semi-conscious cop and told him to hold on and that help was coming.

In a need to assist Williams, McGarrett first made sure that the policewoman stayed with Marta. He jogged across the street over to the alley with Morton, who insisted on going, was right behind him. Steve's jaw tightened as he saw the officer drop to the ground. He finished the distance to the alley in a running crouch with his gun ready and avoided the alley entrance until he reached the driveway. By that time the gunman had made his escape. McGarrett turned to Morton and told him to go call for an ambulance before he knelt next to Danny. He looked over at Steve with a pained expression on his face. Each suspecting what they didn't want to admit that the officer's wound was not survivable. But there was always hope.

"What happened?" Steve asked his detective.

"We were right behind him Steve." Williams explained, "I had motioned for Kipala to take a position across the alley. That's when the guy turned and fired. He had a car parked there. I was able to fire a couple of times before it turned the corner. But he got away."

Steve took the news with a grim look on his face. "Did you get a look at the gunman?"

"Just a glimpse. He could've been the assassin Steve, but I can't be sure."

Not liking what he heard Steve continued. "What about the car or the license plate?"

"It was a late model green Chevy sedan." Danny replied. "Only got a partial on the plate."

"Okay, it's not much, but run it through the computer anyway and see what comes back. And call the lab boys." McGarrett ordered. "I want every scrap of evidence from this entire area collected and analyzed." Glancing back across the street he saw Marta was standing behind his car. She had managed to get to her feet after the shooting was over and was looking in his direction. From his position across the street he could see the anxiety on her face.

While waiting for the ambulance, Steve and Danny conducted a search around the front yard of the house and the alley. They found several empty shell casings on the ground, which could only be from the gunman's weapon.

When the ambulance arrived, the attendants carefully placed the wounded officer on the gurney and loaded him into the back of the vehicle. Steve broke off his search and told Danny to take over. He helped Marta sit down next to wounded officer relaying to Danny that he could be reached at the hospital if he was needed.

As the ambulance drove away Che Fong arrived with the lab team. Danny handed the bullet casings over to him as he watched the ambulance fade into the distance with an expression of sadness on his face.

***

McGarrett was right in his observation. Marta's wound wasn't serious enough for her to be admitted. The wounded officer on the other hand was rushed into the emergency room. While the Five-O chief talked with the doctor who attended the officer, a HPD officer had been stationed outside Marta's treatment room while a young intern bandaged her arm.

The doctor said he wasn't sure about the officer's chances. The officer had lost a lot of blood. The doctor agreed to McGarrett's request that he be contacted if the officer's condition changed. Steve thanked him and returned to Marta's treatment room. Fred Morton stopped him outside the door. Red-faced with anger he shook his finger at him.

"Steve! I'm holding you personally responsible for this! This wouldn't have happened if you had let me handle this!"

The Five-O chief glared down at the Director and suspected by the man's tone that this wasn't going to be a pleasant confrontation. He also disliked having his authority questioned. "Look Fred!" He barked, barely controlling his temper, "Don't talk to me about procedure! I know what's at stake. I don't like what's happened any more than you do. And believe me I will find out who's responsible for this. Even if it takes every officer on the island." Steve drilled the Director with a cold stare as he countered the Director's accusation.

"Let me ask you this, what would you have done that would've been any different? Because I would really like to know."

The Director started to say something but decided against it and stormed off in a huff down the corridor and left the hospital.

Marta watched the Five-O chief as he entered the room. She had overheard the discussion that took place in the corridor outside her room but the look on the Five-O chief's face led her to ask. "What about the officer who was brought in with me?" She asked.

Frowning he said, "The doctors don't know anything yet."

Before leaving the hospital to take Marta into protective custody, Steve placed a phone call to HPD and requested that a security team be sent to prepare the safe house at Koko Head, and to notify his office when everything was ready. He also requested that a car be brought him at to the hospital, and escorted his charge out to the car when it arrived.

***

Once at the office Steve informally introduced Marta to Kono and Chin Ho. He showed her to a chair where she could sit and wait near to his secretary's desk until the call from HPD came. Marta wasn't in the mood for small talk but after Jenny offered her some coffee they began to idly chat. Steve called Danny, Chin and Kono into his office.

"What did the computer check turn up?" Steve asked Danny as he walked behind his desk and saw the folder from the FBI with the information on Evan Paxton he had requested. Picking it up he scanned through the contents.

The detectives follow Steve into his office and line up in front of his desk. Opening his notebook Danny read. "So far there are one hundred seventeen green Chevy sedans registered on the island. Out of those fifty have the same first number and letter combinations on the plate. Still trying to narrow it down Steve, it's going to take some time."

Steve's brow furrowed as he thought for a moment. He didn't like the time factor. "What about the hot sheet? Has there been any green Chevy's reported stolen in the last several weeks? We don't know how long this guy has been on the island." Danny's face shown that he hadn't thought of that, said that he was 'on it' and hurried to his office to add that to the computer readout request.

"What about Evan Paxton, any word on the APB?" Steve asked his detectives.

"Can't find him anywhere Boss." Kono admitted. "Must be keeping a low profile, it's sure like the island swallowed him up."

"According to the file provided by the FBI, it says here that Evan Paxton has been known to work for certain people for certain periods of time and the last known association is for Lou Sanders." Steve asked as he handed the photo to Danny. "Is this your alley gunman Danno?"

"That's him Steve." Danny replied. "That confirms that he's working for Sanders. And Marta Michelson is his target. But how did he learn that she was here?"

"Don't know." Steve answered. "But we can't let this guy to turn this island into a shooting gallery. We've got to find him and fast. The FBI provided this picture of our man. Make sure that it's distributed to every car on the island." And handed the photo to Kono who left with it to see to its distribution.

After the detectives leave Steve's office, he returned his attention to the file on Evan Paxton. He read the information sheet from Interpol that said that the man's trademark has always been a double shot to the chest at close range. The gun he used was a SIG P210 nine-millimeter pistol. And when he made their most wanted list back in 1964, he was known to associate with European organized crime figures where he made his reputation. The record also showed that he broke from the underworld and went independent around 1969. Steve grew dismayed as he read that this man is credited with at least fifty successful hits and not one miss. He rubbed at his chin as he continued to read that the FBI has wants out on him in the States too. This man was on Hawaiian turf now. Five-O's jurisdiction. Here will be his last stand, and Marta Michelson will not be his next victim.

Feeling agitated Marta got up and slowly approached the door to Steve's office and softly knocked on the doorframe. Looking up from the file he invited her inside.

Hesitantly she entered. "Sorry to disturb you Mr. McGarrett, but I can't sit out there any longer. Your secretary is very nice but I feel somewhat exposed out there. I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all, Miss Michelson, please come in make yourself comfortable. I should be hearing from HPD soon." And returned his attention to the file.

Marta slowly strolled around the office. She looked at the pictures that hung on the wall. And admired the large outrigger model on a table against the wall. Her attention was then drawn to the bulletin board where she saw the photo of Lou Sanders pinned to it. She gasped.

"Is everything all right?" He asked hearing her gasp.

"Yeah." She replied as she recovered. "Even a photograph of that man scares me. Who are these other men here?"

"Well." Steve answered as he walked over to her, "This first one is Raymond Hammond known syndicate man in Las Vegas. Our information is that he's a silent partner in Sanders' import export business. Have you ever seen him before?"

Marta shook her head. "No, he doesn't look familiar."

"This next one was Las Vegas City Councilman Marvin Cooke. He was found dead in his home on July 14 this year from suspicious causes."

Marta's eyes went large when she saw that photo. "I remember hearing about him on the news."

"And you know Lou Sanders. The last one is who we believe is Sanders' hired assassin, Evan Paxton."

"Was he the one at the house today?" She asked as she unconsciously rubbed at her arm.

"Yes, we think so. You were very lucky today Miss Michelson, tripping on the sidewalk very likely saved your life. He never misses."

Marta face lost its color. The tightness in her stomach served to remind her how close she came to death. She turned from the photos and went across the room to a window and looked out. The last two months have been so quiet. Now someone is trying to kill her. "Why is he trying to kill me now? Why not over the last two months?"

"Maybe Sanders didn't know where to look for you before now."

"You mean to tell me that someone told him I was here in Hawaii?"

"That's possible. He also could've found out through other channels, but that's doubtful."

The phone on Steve's desk rang. He quickly picked up the receiver, "McGarrett." He answered. Listening for a moment, he thanked the caller and replaced the receiver and walked over to Danny's office.

"Danno, I'm taking Miss Michelson to the Koko Head safe house. After you narrow down that list. Split it with Chin and Kono and go home and pack a bag and meet me over there. You're going to be staying with Miss Michelson."

"Right Steve." He answered and returned to the list, this time with renewed energy. Because he liked that kind of duty and Marta Michelson was a lot better looking than the others he's had to stay with on previous occasions.

"The house is ready Miss Michelson, shall we go?" Steve offered.

Marta looked over at him and slowly stepped away from the board. She reached for her purse and walked out of the office with McGarrett behind her.

The drive to the safe house was a quiet one. McGarrett was going over in his mind the question Marta had asked him back at the house was a viable one. If the gunman was the assassin, then Jimmy Ling had located her. After he passed that information to Paxton, he was killed for his trouble.

Marta's mind was wandering too. She stared out toward the horizon, blindly watching the buildings go by. Thinking back to when this whole nightmare started. She knew from the very beginning that this would be a big risk, and would take a lot of courage on her part. If she knew that this was going to unfold this way, she probably would've had second thoughts about cooperating with the police in the first place. The news that the Five-O chief told her about Paul Maxwell was hard for her to accept, she wasn't sure if she could believe it, or him.

"Are you all right over there?" McGarrett asked trying to make conversation.

Still gazing out the window and rubbed at her bandage, she responded softly. "Yeah, I think so."

"You've held up quite well considering."

"Well, after two months of 'holding up' you get good at it after a while." She replied unemotionally still staring out the window.

Steve glanced over at his passenger to assess the origin of the statement he just heard. It's understandable he thought. Considering what the last two months must have been like. Living on the edge emotionally, and not knowing whether she'd be killed today or tomorrow, regardless of the security measures taken.

***

In the driveway of the house McGarrett parked his car, grabbed her suitcase from the back seat and swiftly escorted Marta inside and placed the suitcase on the floor. The house was of medium size with three bedrooms. It was nestled amongst some evergreen trees with palm trees dotting the back yard. As Marta walked in, the dining room was just inside the front door and contained a medium sized table and chairs. The kitchen had an island counter and a breakfast bar with a couple of stools. A support post stood at the end of the counter. The back door was next to a picture window off the living room that gave a prominent view of the back yard and the ocean.

The furniture looked relatively new, probably from infrequent use she mused. The sofa was in the middle of the living room with its back to the kitchen with lamps on each end table, and couple of chairs. A smaller window overlooked the living room from the side wall and the bedrooms were on the left side of the house.

Remembering the comment Marta made in the car about any house being really safe, McGarrett gave her the tour of his security measures. "I have men positioned around the perimeter of the house." He pointed out the picture window to a fisherman out on the beach. "That fisherman out there is Officer McFadden." He took her by the arm and led her to the front door. Opening it he pointed to the gardener across the street, "That's Officer Sherman." And to the landscaping truck parked down the street and the man in the cherry picker, "Officer Apaki. The officers will rotate every four hours, round the clock." He motioned toward the left wall. "The bedroom is back there. You'll be here a few days so make yourself comfortable."

Depositing her purse on the coffee table Marta walked over to the picture. The sky was beginning to take on an orange and red tint as the afternoon sun began its decent to the horizon. She gently rubbed her arm. It hurt like hell and she wished the pain would go away as she rubbed at the bandage. She was tired and scared. Fear had a way of sapping a person's energy and hers was nearly gone.

Absorbed in the view, her mind began to wander. Her thoughts landed on Paul Maxwell, and the months with him around all the time. And the whole arrangement of him being the only security for her for the last two months. She began to wonder if his tactics were really the best approach and began to miss him a little. Uncounted minutes passed before her thoughts were jarred back to the present by the ringing of the phone. Turning her gaze from the view to see McGarrett answer the phone. She saw his expression became steadily grimmer. He thanked Danny for the call and replaced the receiver slowly. He looked up toward Marta. She could tell by looking at him that the news was not good.

"It's about that policeman, isn't it?" She asked her voice quivering, not wanting to hear the answer.

"Officer Kapala died twenty minutes ago." Steve answered slowly with a clenched his jaw and felt a tightness growing in his stomach.

Marta's heart sank, "Oh, damn." She said as a hint of moisture showed in her eyes and her face became drawn. "Did he have any family?"

McGarrett moved to the window and stood next to Marta and stared out at the afternoon sun. "A wife and a child," he said solemnly.

Marta felt worse now that she knew that a family didn't have a husband and a father because of her. Her strength began to wane as her feelings of responsibility for the deaths increased to a level of being undeniable. She closed her eyes tightly. Nobody was supposed to die. If she hadn't agreed to testify, maybe Paul Maxwell and that officer would still be alive. And she could be living a normal life, and not spending endless days being scared out of her mind, looking over her shoulder. Grief and exhaustion were beginning to show as her eyes were becoming red as she tried to keep the tears from falling because she didn't want McGarrett, whom she didn't know and had just met a few hours earlier, to see her this way. "It's all my fault." She said weakly, "Nobody was supposed to die."

"What makes you say that?" Steve asked as he gave her a curious look, "You are not responsible for their deaths."

After a long sigh she lowered her head and replied. "Yes I am. I started all this by agreeing to testify in the first place. My best friend is dead, Paul Maxwell too, and now a policeman. Oh, God!" she cried as her effort to keep her composure failed. "She died from a bomb that was meant for me!"

McGarrett wasn't going to allow this woman to blame herself for the trail of death and destruction left by the assassin. She had come too far, and he wasn't about to let her to go down that road. In an attempt to dissuade her from self-persecution, he placed his hands on her trembling shoulders, and looked her in the eyes and said in a reassuring voice. "Miss Michelson, you wouldn't be doing this if you didn't care. So, don't start doubting yourself.

Right now, you're in an ideal position to put Lou Sanders permanently out of business. And what you're doing takes a lot of courage, and I commend you for that. So don't start blaming yourself, I won't buy that, no way." He said.

Marta looked at the Five-O chief with tear-filled eyes as he went on. "If you want to blame somebody, blame Lou Sanders. If anything you should be angry at him. He's the one responsible for your friend's death and He's at the root of this whole messy business."

McGarrett's words hit her like a rock. She leaned back against the window frame. Rubbed her hands over her face and wiped away the tears, stared at the ceiling and sighed. "I don't know anymore." She answered as her voice trailed off. She pushed herself away from the window frame separating herself from the Five-O chief and walked toward the kitchen. Once there she opened the refrigerator and looked inside. "God, what I wouldn't give for a drink right now." She stated as she regained some of her composure.

"Sorry, there's no booze here if that's what you mean." Steve replied as he pulled the drapes closed over the picture window that darkened the room. Following her he sat on a barstool at the counter across from the kitchen. This woman was putting up a strong front he thought and was more upset about the deaths than she was letting on. What he didn't know was just how long she could keep it up before she cracked. The best thing he felt he could do was to help her the best he could when she did.

Closing the refrigerator door she turned around to face McGarrett, her lips pulled into a pout, "You really know how to hurt a girl, don't you. That leaves only one alternative." She said.

Steve watched her movements and wondered what she meant by alternative. Marta looked through the cupboards until she found the glassware. She took one, dropped in a few ice cubes from the freezer and filled the glass with water from the faucet. When finished she held the glass up and said. "H20 on the rocks." Then looked over at the Five-O chief. "Care for one? I hate to drink alone."

Steve declined her offer but watched her as she raised her glass as for a toast, "Cheers." she said. Thirstier than she thought, she downed the contents of the glass. Watching as she refilled her glass he noticed her hand trembling.

Steve decided that now was as good a time as any to start to question her about how her involvement in this case. He had this thing about the 'horses mouth,' and wanted to hear it from her. "I know you have been through a lot today Miss Michelson, but I need to ask you some questions."

"Sure, but call me Marti please, Mr. McGarrett. Miss Michelson sounds like I should be some kind of society dame or something." She said as she slowly walked out of the kitchen and leaned against the post at the end of the counter. "Before you start, I know what you're going to ask. What's a nice girl like me… something like that, right?" She said as she looked to the Five O chief detecting some compassion in the blue eyes and chiseled features of the man in front of her.

"Something like that." He agreed as he adjusted his seat so he could face her.

Marta stared into her glass and toyed with the ice cubes with her finger. "Well, at the time I was so sure I was doing the right thing."

"Do you feel the same way now?"

"Now?" She replied with a sigh as she stared into space. "I'm not so sure. If I knew all this was going to happen, it might be all together different."

"But you did do something." McGarrett added.

"Yeah, I did." She replied dejectedly pushing herself from the post. Crossing over to one of the chairs she sat down tucking her leg under her. "What I have done is subject myself to two months of sleepless nights, and enough emotional stress to fill a volcano waiting for the feds to get their case together. Two more people are dead, and now you tell me that some killer is after me." She said sarcastically as she made a broad gesture with her hand. "What else can go wrong?"

Steve followed her to the living room and sat down on the sofa and faced her. Slowly and deliberately he folded his hands and interlaced his fingers. Giving Marta an authoritative look he said in a firm voice.

"Miss Michelson, let me assure you that nothing will happen to you while you are in Five-O's protective custody. This is my rock, my jurisdiction, and you have my personal assurance that nothing will happen to you."

Marta looked at the Five-O chief skeptically. "Seems like I've heard that somewhere before." She recited sarcastically. "The feds said, Miss Michelson, nothing can happen to you while you are in our custody, we will take care of you, etc, etc. And look what happened, some killer takes a shot at me. Answer me this, how will it be different with you?"

"Please trust me." Steve asked earnestly, "We will find this assassin before he tries again."

She looked at the Five-O chief's expression for a long moment. She wanted so badly to trust this man and believe him, but she still had reservations about cops. The fact that a veteran federal agent and now a local cop that she didn't even know were dead was hard enough. And there was something about the man in the black suit back at the house that gave her bad vibes she couldn't explain.

McGarrett's words echoed over and over in her mind, 'you have my personal assurance that nothing will happen to you.' After a moment Marta replied. "Mr. McGarrett, I want to believe you, I really do, but could you give me some benefit of the doubt for a while, okay?"

Steve could see the mental turmoil going on in this woman's eyes. She had to be extremely frightened, more than she would admit to. With an assuring smile Steve agreed to her proposal. "Okay, you've got yourself a deal."

"I appreciate that." Marta softly replied, "Thanks."

"I have a picture I want to show you." Reaching into his inside jacket pocket he brought out the photograph that was found on the late Jimmy Ling. "Do you recognize this picture?"

Taking the photo from him she looked at it for a moment while she held the cool glass of water to the side of her forehead in an effort to suppress a growing headache. "Yeah, that's me. Looks like it was taken a year or so ago at a company picnic at one of the city parks." She winced at the sight of the bloodstains on the photograph. "How did you get it?"

"It was found on the body of a street hustler by the name of Jimmy Ling. Does that name mean anything to you?"

After thinking for a moment she shook her head negatively. "Never heard of him. How did he get it?"

So much for the girlfriend theory Steve thought as he replied. "He very likely got it from Paxton. Jimmy Ling had been seen showing this photograph around town saying you were a missing friend." Marta groaned as she dropped her head back on the sofa. "I'm sorry about what happened to your friend." He sincerely added.

"You really mean that, don't you." Marta replied as she looked at the Five-O chief.

"I know this is hard for you, for that I apologize, but please," Steve said in a consoling voice, "I need to know all the details. Starting at the beginning."

"All the details?" Marta asked. She really didn't want to repeat the story again. She had done so many times already.

"Yes, please, if you would." He urged.

"Well, here goes." She warned as she began. "I had been working for Lou Sanders for about four years. He owned an import export company in town and I was one of the office clerks. Two and a half months ago, I was walking to my car after work when I was approached by to two men identifying themselves as FBI agents. They said that they've had my boss under investigation for bribing city officials. And possibly members of the legislature for some special interest reasons, and were requesting my help. I told them I didn't know anything about that and that I didn't believe them. I insisted that my boss was an honest businessman. But they assured me that what they told me was true.

They wanted my help in acquiring some hard evidence against him. I told them I still didn't believe them but I would think it over. They accepted that. A few days later I happened to walk past his office and overheard him talking to somebody. I tried not to eavesdrop but his voice was so loud that I heard him say something about some Councilman wasn't going to approve something that he had a great interest in. A day or so later I saw on the news that a member of the City Council was found dead in his home. It frightened me to think that the man's death could've been ordered that day. And possibly that's what I overheard, was the order for the Councilman to be killed. I'd never been scared like that, I didn't know what to do."

"You mean Councilman Cooke?"

"Yeah." She answered realizing that he was the same man in the photo on the bulletin board in McGarrett's office.

"Did you know who the man in the office was?"

Marta shook her head.

"Did Sanders know that you overhead this conversation?"

Marta stared at her lap and replied. "I didn't think so, his door was closed."

"Maybe he saw you talking to the FBI agents in the parking lot."

Looking at the Five-O chief with wide eyes. "I don't know... even if he did… my best friend was killed because of that?! Because of what he thought he saw!" She exclaimed when she realized what McGarrett was saying.

"It looks that way." Steve replied. "Go on, please."

"Well…. it was then I realized those men were right. So, I called them and agreed to do what I could to help hem with their case against Mr. Sanders. While I was waiting to hear from them, my best friend needed to borrow my car. When she started the motor, the car exploded. She died while I stood there and watched. There was nothing I could do to help her." Tears began to well up in Marta's eyes. "Nobody deserves to die like that, not even your worst enemy." She added as she looked at the Five-O chief and quickly wiped away the tears.

She noticed that McGarrett's face reflected sincerity and compassion. She hadn't ever seen anything like it on or off of a cop, and began to believe that this man was as sincere as he claimed.

"Officer Williams will be staying with you from now on for your protection until this is over. He should be here soon." McGarrett said.

"Do you really think that killer will find me again?" Marta asked.

"All possibilities have to be covered." Steve replied as he got up from the chair and walked over to the phone and dialed the office to speak to Danny Williams. He wanted to check on his progress with the stolen car list. Williams told him he had narrowed the list down to ten probables. Chin and Kono have split the list and that he was on his way home to pack and would be at the house in about an hour.

Williams added before ending the call. "The ballistics report came back from the slugs from Jimmy Ling. And Steve, they match."

"Thanks Danno." He said and hung up the phone. The same man committed both murders.

***

When Williams arrived at the house Steve gave him some last minute instructions, and told Marta to try not to worry and to leave the curtains closed and stay away from the doors. After assuring her that everything was going to be all right, he left.

Steve returned to the office and proceeded to put the photos of the people in the case that he received from Fred Morton's office on his bulletin board. There he put the photos of Evan Paxton, the hired assassin, Lou Sanders and the bloodstained photo of Marta. Along with surveillance photos of men that frequented Lou Sanders' office as well as his residence. And preceded to study their files that accompanied the photos.

Marta was somewhat glad that Dan Williams was to stay with her, at least he was someone she had already met which put her at ease a little bit. He was friendly enough and best of all he knew how to cook some of the native dishes, and prepared a delightful light meal for dinner. They chatted idly for the next few hours until Marta couldn't stay awake anymore and went to bed.

Her first night at the safe house was a restless one. The ever-present humidity affected Marta more than usual. She tossed and turned tangling herself in the covers while the images of the shooting at the house replayed over and over in her mind. The nightmare was punctuated by the explosion of her car that killed her friend. She sprang up in bed shrieking, her heart was pounding and she gasped for air.

Hearing the scream Danny burst into the room with his gun in his hand and startled her even more causing her to scream again. He quickly scanned the room and determined that there was no immediate threat. Quickly holstering his gun he came over to her bed and sat down, "Are you all right?" He asked.

She nodded her head, "Just a bad dream." She admitted as she wiped the sweat from her face with the sheet. In the back of her mind she wasn't sure if it was smart thing to admit to the nightmare.

Danny smiled at her, "Everything's going to be all right." He assured her, "Now go back to sleep. If you want me to, I will stay close by until you're asleep."

She felt comforted by the young detectives' offer and was able to get back to sleep. But the sleep was not restful.

***

After the shoot-out at the house, the Iceman knew the car he had would be on every hot sheet on the island. So he drove out to the harbor around dusk with the thought that this would be the best place to dump the car. In forty feet of water he figured the cops were not likely to find it. There he found what looked to be a deserted pier. Carefully surveying the area to make sure no one was around he took out a stick and placed it against the accelerator. The engine began to race. Bracing the stick against the seat he shifted the car into drive and released the brake and watched the car as it rolled off the end of the pier. With a big splash the car quickly sank into the dark waters of the harbor.

A short time later he commandeered another car and returned to his room at the Ilikai. He mused at how easy it was that his target was so accessible, even in the company of cops. He poured himself a brandy and slowly sipped it. Toasting himself for job well done and the fat payday while he rolled the liquid around in his mouth savoring the taste. Before he swallowed the liquor the phone rang. He placed the brandy down on the table and picked up the phone. "Yeah." He said dryly.

"Where've you been!" The voice shouted angrily. "I've been trying to call you for hours!"

"Nothing that concerns you." The assassin replied bluntly. "What do you want."

"You missed! You fool. The girl is not dead!" The voice was filled with tension.

The assassin's brow furrowed. "What do you mean, I hit her, she went down!" He angrily replied. "There is no way she survived, I'm sure of it!"

"You may have hit her, but you didn't kill her!" The voice shouted again. "All you succeeded in doing is drawing attention to yourself by killing a cop and shooting up the street!"

"How do you know this?" The assassin asked suddenly wondering how this man knew about the shooting so quickly. When he got no answer to that question, he asked. "Where's the girl now?"

"McGarrett's got her stashed at a Five-O safe house under heavy security." The voice answered.

"What's the address." The assassin demanded. The line was silent again. "The address, let's have it!" He demanded again.

The line was silent a little longer before the voice came back and sounded greatly distressed. "153 Portlock, Koko Head. And don't miss this time! And you can tell your employer, this is the last time, my commitment to him is finished! And don't expect my help if you foul up again!"

Before the assassin could respond the phone went dead with a loud click. He stared at the handset for a moment dumbfounded by the news he just heard. He slammed the handset down on the phone as he thought how could that be? He played the scene over again in his mind. How could he have missed? Snatching up the glass he downed the rest of the brandy in one swallow wincing as it burned its way down his throat. Anger swelled up inside him causing him to take the empty glass and threw it against the wall. Shattering on impact glass shards flew in all directions. The girl will not survive and will surly die next time, guaranteed, he promised.

His remembered that a plainclothes cop had fired at him back to the alley. Did he get a good look at him? The clock was definitely ticking now. How much time did he have before the cops were onto him? These questions began to bother the usually calm assassin. He took a deep breath as he calmed himself and decided that that cop would need to be taken care too, at least for his own satisfaction. Just like Jimmy Ling.

***

The next day about mid morning, the assassin drove out to the safe house location to see for himself this heavy security he was told about. What he observed he considered were the security measures, because his source didn't tell him what type of security there was. First, he drove through the neighborhood. The area had spacious homes with immaculately landscaped front yards.

Dressed like a local so he wouldn't stand out, he parked his car and causally walked the street where the house was. He eyed the house with great interest. The front of the house was bare, with the exception of trees on either side. He did find where the phone line entered the structure at the front corner. From there, there was no way to keep from being seen from the street he thought.

At the house across the street a gardener was tending the lawn. Several yards further down was a landscaping truck with the worker twenty feet off the ground in a cherry picker manicuring one of the trees along the street. A mail truck worked its way down the street delivering letters and packages to the residents. He observed the pace of activity on the street, checking his watch when he saw the mail truck and made note of the time. He walked out onto the beach where he saw a man surf fishing, but showed no signs of success. He had no fish staked out. Carefully he watched this man as he cast his line into the surf and reeled it back in.

He had to be suspicious of everyone he observed assuming that they all were the security. He didn't want to take any chances. He also watched a couple as they jogged by on the beach.

He found a place amongst the nearby trees where he closely watched any and all activity around the house for the next few hours while he mapped out in his mind each step he would take. He swore that what happened before, would not happen again, the woman dies this time. Even if he had to kill every cop around her. When he was satisfied with what he had learned, he returned to his car and left deciding that he would need a small distraction.

When he returned to the hotel, he phoned his contact and requested he be supplied what was needed for an adequate distraction. Enough for a car, he said. And to bring it Makapu'u Point by eight o'clock the next morning.

***

It was mid-morning the next day when Morton phoned Steve and told him that he got a call from the DA in Las Vegas. The grand jury had handed down an indictment against Lou Sanders and he was expected to be taken into custody later in the day. He asked that Miss Michelson be informed that it shouldn't be much longer.

"She'd be glad to hear that." Steve replied.

After he hung up from the Director Steve began to dial the safe house to relay the news to Danny and Marta when Chin walked in the office. "Steve, on the computer check for any stolen green Chevy's, I came across one that was reported stolen about two weeks ago. The first numbers on the license plate match what Danny saw." He reported.

"Where is it now?" Steve asked.

"Don't know. HPD doesn't have any reports on any abandoned green Chevy's on the island."

"It has to be somewhere Chin," Steve wondered, "a car like that can't just disappear into thin air." He considered that the car angle could be a dead end. Or the vehicle could be in the water somewhere where they'd never find it. "Keep on it, thanks Chin."

Returning to the phone he dialed the safe house, when the phone continued to ring he became suspicious. He knew Danno wouldn't be far from the phone and would answer it immediately. Something was wrong he thought, very wrong. He became increasingly concerned as the line continued to ring.

His brow furrowed as he realized that maybe something may have happened to Danno, and that's why he doesn't answer. "Oh my God." he said under his breath. Dropping the receiver onto its cradle he grabbed his jacket of the coat rack so quickly that the hanger almost swung off its hook. Quickly putting it on he called to Chin and Kono to come with him as he trotted out of his office.

"What's up?" They ask as he passed their offices.

"Danno doesn't answer the phone at the safe house. I've got a bad feeling about this. Lets go."

The two detectives fell in behind their boss as they exited the office and out to the Mercury. No sooner than Steve started the motor he threw the car into gear and floored the accelerator. The passengers had to reach for something to hold onto to keep from sliding across the seat. The tires squealed as the car sped out of the Palace parking lot and raced off toward the safe house with the siren wailing.

***

The Iceman parked his car a block away from the house and out of sight. From the floor of the passenger side he reached for the green canvas Army issue pack that he received from his contact, and placed next to him on the seat. He cautiously opened the bag. Inside, as promised, was clock timer strapped to a half-dozen sticks of dynamite. Checking his watch he synchronized it with the timer in the bag. He set the timer for thirty minutes and flipped the switch that started the second hand clicking its way around the dial. He closed the bag and placed it back on the floor and casually left the car and walked toward the house. As he got nearer to the house he saw that the landscaping truck was still there and so was the gardener. Quickly he ducked into the trees and made his way to the beach.

He saw that the fisherman was still on the beach and watched him with a cold eye. He wasn't the same guy from the day before. This guy also lazily cast his line into the surf, and reeled it back in and didn't have any fish. This man has to be part of the security too, the Iceman thought. Pulling out his gun he screwed on the silencer. After a survey of the beach to make sure it was deserted he came out into the open and casually walked over to the fisherman while he held the pistol out of sight.

"Hey buddy!" He shouted, "Do you know what time it is?"

The fisherman's attention was quickly directed at the man that walked toward him. After a moment of hesitation, he checked his watch and said. "It's ten o'clock."

The Iceman continued to close the distance to the fisherman until he was right next to him. "Thank you." He said as he brought his pistol out from behind his back and jabbed it into the man's side and pulled the trigger twice.

The fisherman winced, dropped his pole and collapsed to the sand. Making another quick survey of the beach he found that was still deserted. He dragged the body of the man off the sand and put him under some nearby shrubs. A quick search was conducted of the dead man's pockets that produced a wallet. Opening it he saw a Honolulu Police Department badge gleaming back at him. "A cop." He muttered in disgust as he tossed the wallet back onto the body. As he stood he picked up palm fronds from the ground and placed them over the body. Casually dusting the sand from his hands he made his way back to the house constantly surveying the area.

The sun shone brightly in the sky so the Iceman kept to the shadows of the trees as he crept up to the safe house unseen from the street and peered through a side window. He felt that the information he was given was questionable, because he didn't trust that the source would tell him the truth. A small crack in the curtains allowed a slim view into what looked to be the living room. A frown crossed his face and his eyes narrowed.

The source was right. The girl was indeed alive and was inside the house. He looked at his watch again. His mind whirred on how he'll do this one as he watched through the curtains. He recalled his prior assignments and tried to sort out all the methods he used if his target proved to be hard to get to. With the seconds ticking away on the package in the car the assassin had to decide soon on how to proceed.

While he peered into the house, his forehead wrinkled because the man in the room looked vaguely familiar. He couldn't quite place where he'd seen him before, but didn't dwell on it. It will come to him later, he thought. Right now he had other things to think about.

He crouched low and moved under the curtained picture window at the rear of the house and made his way to the opposite side. He observed the man in the cherry picker from a place shaded by trees. The man had not made any moves yet. So far he was satisfied that he hadn't been seen while he checked his watch again. Just minutes to go.

The explosion cut the air as smoke and flames erupted from the car. The force decapitated the vehicle blowing glass and metal fragments in all directions. The doors flew open as the flames filled the opening with their fury. A secondary explosion instantly followed as the gas tank exploded with a force that lifted the car off the ground. The trunk lid was ripped from its hinges and launched toward the sky lifted by a ball of flame. The trunk lid fell back down to the earth with a crash as the smoke plume rose high into the sky as debris began to rain down.

The officers saw the plume of black smoke rising above the trees. Reflex caused the gardener to break cover and run toward the direction of the smoke. The man in the cherry picker watched as his partner ran down the street toward the disturbance. Grabbing his walkie-talkie the officer quickly reported the incident and also said that his partner was no longer on station, that he had gone down the street to see what the disturbance was as he lowered the cherry picker to the ground. Climbing out of the basket a man that appeared from across the street approached him.

"Hey, buddy, what happened?"

"Some kind of explosion, my partner has gone to check it out." The officer said.

"Gee, I hope nobody's hurt." The man said innocently while holding his hand behind his back.

"Let's hope so, I hate it when stuff like this happens." The officer admitted as he looked down the street after his partner.

"Stuff like what happens?" The man asked as the gun was slowly cocked with his thumb.

"Probably kids, getting their jollies. You never know when someone is going to get hurt."

"How? Like this." He said as he brought his hand from his back and pointed the gun at the officer. Before the officer could react the man pulled the trigger twice. The officer crumpled in a heap on the street.

The assassin quickly looked in the direction of the partner and didn't see him. He turned away from the dead officer and crossed the street to the house in increased determination. He angled his approach to the side of the house, where he had found the phone line the day before. Taking out his knife he quickly cut the phone line.

Hearing the explosion Marta looked at Danny with wide eyes with an unspoken question as her level of fear started to grow.

Danny pulled his pistol and walked over to the window by the door to see what he could. What he saw was a man crossing the street heading toward the house, with a gun in his hand. His eyes narrowed and a lump grew in this throat when he saw the officer lying on the pavement next to the landscaping truck.

The gardener arrived to see a furiously burning mass of metal surrounded by twisted steel and glass fragments. Shielding his face, he moved as close to the vehicle as he dared. The heat and flames made

it impossible to see if anyone was inside.

Pulling out his walkie-talkie, he tried to call his partner and was puzzled when he got no response. Walking back to the house he bounced the radio against his palm. It was possible that the battery had died, but he doubted it. As he turned the corner and looked in the direction of the house, he knew instantly why his radio was silent.

The cherry picker basket was down and a body was lying on the ground. Switching frequencies the gardener quickly called Central Dispatch reporting that an officer was down and another needed assistance. Adding that they also could use a fire truck. After a moment he checked the street and then raced toward his partner.

Danny's heart leapt into his throat and pounded with the force of a jackhammer as the gunman neared the house. He ran to the phone and tried to dial Steve at the office. Before he finished the line went dead.

"Come on, let's get out of here!" Danny yelled, as he slammed the phone down and grabbed Marta by the arm pulling her from the sofa as he headed for the back door.

The assassin boldly walked up the driveway with his gun firmly gripped in his hand. Without breaking step he took his foot and kicked the door open. Swiftly moving into the house, he saw the man and his target running out the open back door. He fired his gun at them several times.

Danny fired back at the intruder from the cover of the door but missed as the assassin dove behind the kitchen counter.

The assassin fired again at them several times over the counter as Danny and Marta ran out into the back yard and headed for the beach. The bullets splintered the doorframe and shattered the picture window. To get a better a shot at the escaping pair the assassin ran to the door and fired again.

Thuds can be heard as the bullets impacted the trees just behind Danny and Marta. Holding Marta's hand tightly Danny ran to where the Officer McFadden was stationed but didn't see him right away. He quickly surveyed the beach in both directions looking for him. His motion stopped and his face lost its color. Protruding from under palm fronds at the edge of the beach were bottoms of shoes. Marta saw the expression on the young detective's face and looked in the same direction he was and gasped when she also saw the shoes.

"We've got to keep moving." Danny said, not taking his eyes off the shoes.

"To where?" Marta replied looking desperately at her surroundings.

"I know of a small gas station near here." Danny said. "If I remember right there's a phone there and I can call Steve." Glancing back toward the house he saw the gunman run across the yard.

Reaching the edge of the beach the assassin scanned the area in both directions. When he saw his quarry, he quickly fired his gun at them.

In anticipation of the gunfire, Danny pushed Marta down to the sand and covered her with his own body to dodge the onslaught of bullets.

"I hope you're right about the phone." Marta said as Danny pulled her to her feet.

"Yeah, me too." He retorted as they ran down the beach with the Iceman not far behind.

After a few minutes of labored running in the deep sand Danny and Marta came upon a break in the shrubs. Leaving the beach they soon found themselves surrounded by trees. Nearly out of breath Marta leaned against one of them, welcoming the shade.

"Would you mind telling me what just happened back there?" Marta's voice was edged with anger as she thumbed over her shoulder at the direction of the house. "Who was that guy anyway?"

Danny hesitated briefly before he answered, replied in between deep breaths. "I think that was your assassin."

"How?!" She cried out in disbelief.

"I don't know." Danny answered, matching her disbelief.

Still trying to catch her breath she asked. "How much farther is this gas station of yours?"

Leaning over with his hands on his knees trying to catch his breath, Danny nodded his head in the direction away from the beach. "There's a road about a quarter mile that way. The gas station would be there and a phone." Danny looked back at where they had come and watched for the assassin. Not seeing him he thought that they might have outrun him for the moment.

"Do you see him?" She asked.

"Not at the moment."

"Good, I can't go much farther."

Extending his hand Danny said encouragingly. "It's not much farther, come on let's get going."

Marta reached out with her trembling hand and took his and they loped through the trees toward the road.

***

McGarrett drove the Mercury hard. He wanted to get to the safe house as quickly as possible. His concentration was severed when the radio came to life. "Central to McGarrett." Came the voice of the dispatcher.

Steve grabbed the mic off the dashboard, "This is McGarrett. Go ahead."

"Officer Sherman, at your secured location, has reported an officer down and has requested back up."

"Oh my God." Steve uttered, as he interpreted the report. "What about Dan Williams and Miss Michelson?"

"Officer Sherman reports that Officer Williams and the Michelson woman are missing."

"Thank you." Steve replied as forcibly put the mic down on the seat and instinctively pressed his foot down on the accelerator sending the big car roaring down the highway toward Koko Head. He gripped the wheel intensely as an uneasiness came over him. His concern for Danno and Marti was so great that that he wanted the car to fly over the heavy traffic to the safe house.

When he arrived, there were other squad cars that had responded to the call for assistance. One of the officers was positioning the yellow crime scene tape around the scene. A few of the neighbors had assembled to watch the police activity. Steering the Mercury into the driveway Steve brought the car to an abrupt stop.

Officer Sherman approached the Five-O chief as he got out of the car and gave him his report that included the smoldering car down the street. Steve looked past him to the landscaping truck where a sheet was spread over the dead officer. He ordered Kono to take the back of the house and Chin to come with him. Sherman completed his report as Steve pulled his gun and approached the house. His uneasiness grew in intensity as he approached the house and saw that the door was leaning open.

The hinges on the door were pulled from the doorframe. The wood on the inside of the frame was split by the force of the door being kicked in. McGarrett cautiously stepped inside the house. Stopping at the kitchen he directed Chin to check the bedroom area. The kitchen looked in order until he saw on the floor several empty bullet casings. He bent down and pulled out his handkerchief from his jacket pocket. Not wanting to smudge any potential fingerprints he carefully picked up one of the casings for closer examination. He could tell it was from a 9mm gun and by the smell it had been recently fired. His forehead furrowed as he frowned. His expression grew grimmer as he stood and saw the bullet holes in the refrigerator and nearby wall.

He couldn't chase from his mind the idea that somehow the location of the safe house had been compromised and grew more concerned for Danno and Marta's safety. He tried to assure himself that Danno was an experienced police officer and very capable of taking care of himself and Marta. But he couldn't stop himself from worrying.

His fears were becoming more evident when he saw from the kitchen, the splintered back door frame and broken window.

"It is all clear back here Steve." Chin reported as he came out from the bedroom area. "There's nobody back there."

Steve closed his hand around the shell as he returned his gun to its holster. "Thanks Chin. Paxton was here all right." He said as he showed the bullet casing in his handkerchief to the veteran detective.

"Do you think Danny and Miss Michelson got away?" He asked, his voice filled with apprehension.

"Well, they're not here. That's a good sign." Steve replied as he looked at the damage with a skeptical eye. He didn't want to think that Danny and Marta didn't get away from the assassin and their bodies were somewhere on the property.

Kono entered the house through the back door interrupting Steve's train of thought.

"There's nobody back here Boss. But there's bullets in a couple of trees though, and the phone line's been cut."

"Well that explains the phone." Steve said and turned to the Chinese detective. "Chin, get on the car radio and get the lab boys out here. Have them go over this place from top to bottom. Also have them go over what's left of that car down the street."

"Right." He replied and left the room.

Steve followed Kono out to the yard and the bullet-laden palm trees. "Looks like they went this way." He said observing on which side of the tree the bullets were in. "Toward the beach." The two men made their way across the yard to the sand's edge and surveyed the beach from end to end. "Where's McFadden? He's supposed to be covering this area."

"Don't know Boss. Haven't been able to find him yet." Kono replied.

Turning from beach Steve thought that maybe McFadden was in pursuit of Paxton but couldn't chase from his mind his concern for Danno and Marta. He pondered the possibilities of their whereabouts, hoping that they were still alive.

***

The Iceman's breathing came in heavy gulps from the exertion of pursuing the escaping pair in the loose deep sand. He's never had to hunt his target like this in any of his previous assignments. He preferred them to be stationary, not ones that he had to chase down. He angrily swore under his breath that he would demand extra payment because of the chase and the continuing interference from the local cops.

He was able to identify their trail by the series of impressions in the sand showing where they left the beach and went into the trees. A sinister smile crossed his face. They're off the sand now. Cautiously following the tracks he found a tree where the tracks were fuller and deeper. They paused here, he thought to himself. He popped out the clip to check his ammunition supply. Counting only two rounds he tossed it away. He brought out a second clip from his pocket and shoved it into the pistol grip. Flexing his fingers around the grip he firmly held the gun in his hand. The impressions continued to lead away from the beach. The smile on his face grew as he followed the tracks.

Moments later he saw his quarry. They had slowed to a walk. The Iceman closed the distance by increasing his pace to get closer. This way he will be within range and wouldn't miss this time. He saw that the man was walking next to the girl. This guy has proven to be a hindrance to his success, he will have to be taken out so he can get to the girl. Bringing the pistol up he took careful aim. He closed one eye and lined up the sights at the head of the man and squeezed the trigger.

A thud was heard as a bullet struck a palm tree they had just passed, getting Danny's attention.

Pushing Marta to the ground he spun around with his gun ready to confront where the sound came from just as the assassin fired again. This time he didn't miss.

Marta watched horror as Danny grabbed the side of his head collapsed to the ground. "Danny! Danny!" She cried as she crawled over to him, as he lay unconscious on ground. She gasped at the sight of the badly bleeding wound as his hand fell away from his head. Looking up from Danny's body she saw the approaching gunman.

"Danny wake up! Wake up! Don't do this to me!" She cried as she shook him in a panic. When the detective didn't respond, she remembered the phone. "Got to call McGarrett!" She didn't know if Danny could hear her. "I'll go call for help." She announced bravely as she got up and ran for the road.

Tears began to well up in her eyes at the thought that Danny could be dead. Not another one she moaned. She was alone now with her fight for life against her would-be killer. Reaching the road she saw the gas station. It wasn't a station as one would think one would look like. It was just a small structure of rusting aluminum surrounded by a driveway of dirt and gravel. The gas tank was the aboveground type and was on a stand with a dried up hose connected to the old pump that stood next to the structure. Obviously the business had been closed for a long time.

'Chungs Easy Gas' the faded letters said over the door. Next to it stood a red phone booth, just as Danny had remembered. Marta only hoped that it still worked. She ran to the booth harder than she had ever run in her life, with the assassin not far behind her all the way. Reaching the phone booth she thew open the folding door and grabbed the receiver and repeatedly hit the cradle until the operator answered.

"Operator! --- Operator! --- Get me McGarrett at Five-O, and hurry it's an emergency!" She cried as she looked around for the assassin while she anxiously awaited the connection.

"Hawaii Five-O." Jenny's voice came on the line.

"McGarrett?!" She yelled as she tried to catch her breath. "I've got to speak to McGarrett! --- Please! --- It's an emergency!"

"He is not in right now." Jenny replied.

"Where is he?" Marta cried in desperation. "You've got to get him on this phone right now! Danny's been shot. I don't know if he's alive and that killer is coming after me. Help me please!"

Jenny gasped when she realized who the caller was. "Marti? Is that you? Where are you?"

Marta took a deep breath and looked at on the shack. "I'm at a phone booth at place called Chung's Easy Gas, I don't know the address! I'm not far from the beach house!"

"Stay on the line, okay?" Jenny advised, "Don't go anywhere. I'll see if I can get Steve on his car radio."

***

Chin had just finished his radio call for the lab team and had started to return to the house when the dispatcher called. "Central to McGarrett. Come in Car One."

Returning to the car he answered the call. "Central, this is Chin Ho."

"Have an urgent call from Five-O headquarters for Steve McGarrett." The dispatcher said.

"Roger Central, I'll get him." Tossing the mic down on the seat he hurried back into the house. He found Steve at the far end of the yard.

"Steve!" He yelled. McGarrett whirled around to face him, his face reflecting increased anxiety. "You have an urgent call from the office on the radio, I think you better take it."

"Thanks Chin." Steve said as he rushed past him on the way to his car. Experience prompted the veteran detective to follow his boss back to the car. Snatching up the mic off the seat Steve brought it up to his lips. "Central this is McGarrett."

"Stand by for an urgent phone call." The dispatcher said. Steve's grip increased on the mic as he waited in anticipation of who the caller was.

"Go ahead." The dispatcher said when the line was patched through.

"This is McGarrett. Who is this please."

"McGarrett!? Is that you?" The panicked voice cried out.

"Marti?" Steve responded as his body tensed when he recognized the voice.

"McGarrett, he broke in!" She shouted rapidly. "We had to run!"

"Slow down Marti. Yes I know. I'm at the house now. Where is Dan Williams?"

"He's been shot." She replied her voice trembling. "I don't know if he's alive. Oh God, please help me!"

When McGarrett heard that his detective was injured a knot started to grow in his stomach. But kept his voice calm. "Marti, listen to me, where are you?"

"Some old gas station." She answered as she looked at the structure again. "Chung's Easy Gas, I --- I --- don't know the street. It's not far from the house."

"Now Marti, listen to me very carefully. You stay right there. Don't move. Understand? I'm on my way." Turning away from the mic Steve said. "Chin, get Duke and have him send a couple of HPD units for back-up."

The detective left for the back yard to find Duke who was heading up the search of the property.

***

The assassin emerged from the woods. Marta saw him start to walk in her direction raising his gun. "Oh, no!" She gasped still holding the receiver to her face.

Steve heard her over the still open connection. "Marti what is it?" He shouted anxiously into the mic. "Marti! Answer me!"

"Oh, God! Please hurry!" Her scream was cut off as he heard the sound of breaking glass and thuds. And then silence. The line was dead.

"Marti! What's happening! Marti come in!" Steve shouted into the mic staring at the speaker in the car almost commanding it to show him what was happening. When he didn't get a response he clicked the mic to get the dispatcher back. "Central this is McGarrett, the line went dead. Can you trace where that call came from?"

"Affirmative, McGarrett. Stand by."

"Do it, and contact me when you have the address." Steve ordered.

As Steve anxiously waited to hear from the dispatcher Duke walked up. Several officers accompanied him for the back up. Minutes later the dispatcher came back on. "Central to McGarrett."

"This is McGarrett." Steve replied into the mic.

"Have that address for you. The call was made from a phone booth located on Poipu Drive at the intersection with Pilaa Place."

"Thanks Central. That's not far from here. Let's go!" Steve said as he and Chin climbed into the Mercury. Stomping on the accelerator the big car hopped out of the driveway kicking up a big cloud of dust. The tires squealed on the pavement as they sped away followed by two squad cars with sirens blaring.

***

The assassin walked up to Danny. Using his foot he rolled the detectives' head so he could see his handiwork. A small grin crossed his face as he continued past the detective and preceded to follow tracks he knew belonged to the girl. With impending fulfillment of the contract he felt assured that this time he will be successful. When he reached the road he saw her in the phone booth. No, not this time. She will not have help he thought. She will surely die this time.

He kept his eyes on the girl as he walked with unwavering determination toward the phone booth. The closer he got, he more he could see the look on her face. He saw her fear grow into panic. Although she had looked for one, she had nowhere to run. As he lifted his gun she let out a scream. Dropping the receiver she ducked to the floor of the cramped space of the booth as the assassin pulled the trigger. His gun spouted its lethal projectiles. Once, twice, three times.

Marta huddled as best she could on the small floor as the glass fragments showered down on top of her.

Hearing no more shots she slowly tried to lift herself from the floor. Glass fragments tumbled from the top of her head and landed on the floor. She glanced up and saw what was left of the receiver swinging from its cord. Her chest felt like somebody had stuck a lit match inside her and felt like she was going to pass out. It was becoming difficult to catch her breath as the pain increased in intensity. She lightly touched her chest with her hand. When she looked at her hand her eyes widened in fear at the heavy amount of blood on her trembling fingers. "Oh no!" She thought. Swallowing was hard against the pain she clenched her teeth and attempted to sit up in the booth. Her effort was useless as the pain soon overwhelmed her and any movement was almost impossible as the red stain grew on her blouse. "McGarrett, where the hell are you." She softly groaned just before passing out and collapsing face down on the ground just outside the booth.

The assassin lowered his gun as he saw the girl slump the ground. He smiled to himself as he began to walk up to her to make sure that this time she was really dead. Before he went thirty feet, the wail of sirens could be heard as a black Mercury came charging up the road with three police cars following close behind as approached the old gas station. He was forced to decide against the final shot and beating a hasty retreat into the trees. Swearing under his breath he jammed his gun into his waistband and ran back into the trees just as the cars came to a stop near the phone booth.

***

The dark fog began to recede as Danny began to regain consciousness. Slowly he opened his eyes and rolled slowly onto his side. His vision was blurred and his head pounded intensely. He got to his hands and knees and saw the blood on his hand. He touched the side of his head where the pain was worst and came back with fresh blood on his fingers. Groaning he tried to get to his feet.

This movement made his head swim and prevented his eyes from focusing. He fell back down to the ground and landed close to where he had dropped his gun. He picked it up he held it close to his face and tried to focus on it as he popped out the cylinder to see how many bullets he had left. He counted three. Sighing he snapped the cylinder closed, stuck the gun into its holster and attempted to stand again. Once on his feet he staggered to a nearby tree and leaned against it. He carefully shook his head in an effort to clear the fuzziness and focus his eyes when he heard the wail of sirens.

***

McGarrett lead the way up the road to Chung's Easy Gas. His eyes narrowed and a lump grew in his throat when he saw Marta's body on the ground at the phone booth. He also caught a glimpse of a man running off into the trees. He steered the car off onto the dirt driveway to the structure. Slamming on the brakes the Mercury nosed down to a sliding stop on the gravel. Quickly he got out of the car and swung his arm to direct the squad cars to go after the escaping gunman and instructed Chin to lead the pursuit. He grabbed the mic from off the seat and requested that Central Dispatch send an ambulance to his location.

Throwing the mic down he rushed over to Marta's body. His stomach tightened as he knelt down beside her. Broken glass lay scattered on the ground and blood was splattered on the inside the phone booth. And what was left of the receiver dangled from its cord. He held his breath as he placed his fingers on Marta's neck hoping he would feel a pulse. With a deep sigh of relief he felt a pulse beating under his fingers. It was weak, but there. She was still alive. Gently he grasped her shoulders and carefully eased her over onto her back so he could see how badly she was hurt. This movement made Marta moan softly.

"Easy, easy honey. It's going to be okay. Just take it easy." His face was grim and his jaw rippled momentarily when he saw that her skin had paled and her bloodstained blouse. He retrieved his handkerchief from his jacket and placed it gingerly over her wound as a makeshift bandage until the ambulance arrived. He could hear a gurgling sound that accompanied her shallow labored reparations. Blood was spattered on her neck and face and also there were small cuts from the flying glass. "Ambulance is on its way." He assured her as he brushed away glass slivers and hair from her tear streaked face with his hand.

"Marti, can you hear me?" He asked. When he touched her skin he found it to be cold and clammy. Cradling her head in his hands he tried to talk to her. "Marti? --- Dan Williams --- Where is he? -- Marti?"

Marta did not respond nor did she move, so he laid her head back down. He balled his fists in anger. Paxton had made him break his promise to Marta that nothing would happen to her while she was in Five-O's custody. He pulled out his pistol as he stood in preparation to join the search when Chin came over to report that the man they saw running away has eluded them so far.

"I want him Chin. I don't care what it takes. I want him." Steve ordered in a stern voice as he looked at Marta on the ground. He opened the cylinder on his pistol and checked the bullets then snapped it shut. "Have HPD widen their search all the way to the beach. And pray that we find Danno still alive."

"Right Steve." Chin responded as he briefly looked at Marta with a grim but determined look on his face.

After ordering one officer to stay with Marta until the ambulance arrived, Steve jogged off after Chin to join the search.

***

Moving from tree to tree for support, Danny slowly staggered toward the road. Hearing sirens, his groggy mind somehow knew Steve would be there. He had to get to him and tell him about the break-in at the house.

The assassin approached at a run on his way back to the beach through the trees when he came across the wounded Williams.

Danny's eyes had begun to focus enough to see a figure coming toward him. Quickly he pulled out his gun and pointed it at the figure as he approached. "Hold it right there." He ordered.

The assassin stopped and stared at the young detective with expressionless eyes. "I recognize you now, you're the cop from the alley, aren't you?" His asked in a voice that caused a chill to go down Danny's spine.

It was apparent Danny was having problems keeping his eyes focused on the figure in front of him. "Now drop your gun, slowly." He said.

"You shouldn't have moved." The assassin said as he noticed the blood on the side of Williams's head. "You ruined a perfectly good shot. And I would be rid of you, and your interference."

Danny tried to keep his composure and on his feet when he realized that he was talking to the gunman from the alley, the assassin, the Iceman. "Like all the rest of the innocent people you've killed?" He asked.

With an air of indifference the Iceman replied, "No one is innocent, everyone is guilty of something."

Frustrated with the meaningless dialogue, Danny repeated. "I don't want to ask you again. Drop your gun."

Slowly the assassin reached for his gun from his waistband and dropped it at arm's length onto the ground. Not once did he take his eyes off of Williams. He watched the young detectives' movements for any opportunity where he could have the advantage over him.

"Now what are you going to do, cop, arrest me?" He said taunting the detective.

"I'll let Steve McGarrett have that pleasure." Danny replied still able to maintain his balance. "Now turn around and walk back to the road."

The assassin slowly turned and started to walk ahead of Williams but kept his eye on the detective, watching his every move. Danny slowly followed. After a few steps he reached where the assassin had dropped his gun. He bent down slowly to pick up the weapon while he kept his eye on the man in front of him. Danny's head began to swim and his legs gave out and he nearly fell to the ground. The assassin saw his opportunity. He turned and rushed at Williams knocking him to the ground.

With the last bit of strength that he possessed Danny tried to shove the assassin away from him.

The assassin punched him across his face.

Crumpling in a heap on the ground Danny felt his senses begin to fade.

The assassin got up from the ground and reclaimed his gun. Dusting the dirt off of his treasured weapon he cocked the trigger and pointed it at Williams, lying semi-conscious on the ground.

"This is the way I play the game, cop, no witnesses." He stated coldly as his finger slowly tightened on the trigger. "I'm going to enjoy this."

McGarrett was working his way through the woods and saw Williams being punched to the ground. Quickly he approached where Danny was and stopped behind a tree as close as he dared. Bracing himself against a tree he trained his gun on Paxton, as he stood and cocked and pointed his gun at Danny.

"Freeze Paxton! Police! Drop the gun!"

Paxton spun around to face the source of the voice. He saw a man partially behind a tree with his gun trained on him. Quickly swinging his gun in McGarrett's direction and pulled the trigger and took cover behind a nearby Palm tree.

Steve dodged behind the tree just as the bullet impacted near where he was. Quickly looking around the tree he fired back at Paxton hitting the tree that he was hiding behind.

Paxton squeezed off more rounds and turned to retreat back toward the beach.

McGarrett saw that Paxton was getting away which he didn't want, quickly squeezed off three more rounds. One of the shots hit the assassin and he dropped to the ground. Slowly coming out from behind the tree McGarrett carefully walked up to Paxton. Keeping his gun trained on the man, he kicked the gun away from his hand and knelt down close to him. A stunned look was in the man's eyes as he struggled to get to his feet only to slump back down to the ground.

"You're dying, my friend. You have nothing to lose." Steve said to him. "Tell me the name of your informant and how he knew where the safe house was. Who is he?"

The Five-O chief was only given a cold stare. Steve repeated his question as the assassin's life slipped away only gave the Five-O chief a look of disbelief at his own death.

McGarrett's grip increased on his gun as he leaned down and checked for a pulse. Setting his jaw he shoved his gun back into its holster and picked up Paxton's gun. He examined the weapon to confirm that it was the same weapon described in the reports. He stood the just as HPD officers arrived after hearing the shots. It was the same gun. This would close a lot of unsolved murders for Interpol and the FBI he thought. He would have preferred to take Paxton alive so he could question him.

"He's dead." The Five-O chief said to the officers, "Take over here." He said as he walked over to attend to Williams as he struggled to get to his feet. Steve knelt down next to him and heard him groan in pain at each move. His expression was somber as he helped Danny to a sitting position. The blood on the side of his face was quite evident. "You all right Danno?" He asked with concern.

"I think so." Danny responded groggily.

Steve examined the wound and noted that it was bad enough. But relieved that it could've been worse, but ultimately he was glad that his friend was all right. "Are you sure?"

"No." Danny replied as a slight grin grew on the Five-O chief's face as he took Danny's arm around his neck and grasped him around the waist and lifted him to his feet. Slowly they made their way back to the road and the gas station. "What about Marti? Is she safe?" He asked.

Steve replied with hesitation. "She's not good Danno. Our friend there shot her while she was on the phone with me."

Danny's face went ashen when he heard the news. "Is she going to be all right?" He asked. What could he say? That he failed in protecting her? And what would Steve say about his failure? These questions went through Danny's mind as they made their way back to the gas station as the siren of the ambulance died away as the vehicle came to a stop by the phone booth.

"I don't know Danno." Steve replied as they met up with Chin as they approached the road. The veteran detective took Danny's other arm and helped Steve walk their injured colleague over to the ambulance. The attendants immediately pulled out the gurney and carefully lifted Marta onto it and loaded her into the back of the ambulance. Steve helped Danny into the ambulance. He was starting to become lethargic from his head wound.

"What happened Steve?" Chin asked.

"Paxton's dead."

Relieved, Chin said. "Can't say I'm sorry to hear that. What about the FBI Steve? Won't this blow their case against Lou Sanders?"

Steve looked at the Chinese detective. "I'll deal with Fred Morton. All that's important right now is getting Marti and Danno to the hospital. Finish up here Chin." And climbed inside the ambulance after the attendant. "Take my car and pick up Kono back at the house and meet me at the hospital."

"Okay, Steve." Chin answered as he closed the doors and pounded his hand twice on the doors and the vehicle drove away heading for the nearest hospital.

***

It had been three hours since Danny and Marta were brought into the emergency room. Kono and Chin had joined Steve in the waiting room. The pale color of the walls and the off-color furniture didn't help the disposition of the Five-O chief as he paced back and forth in the waiting room. He was on his third cup of the vending machine coffee when the attending doctor walked into the room.

Before the physician got two words out Kono and Chin had surrounded him. He first assured the detectives that Williams would be all right. He went on to say that their colleague had suffered a moderate concussion from the bullet, and that the wound needed stitches. And he was going to keep the detective in the hospital for a few days for observation.

"What about Miss Michelson?" Steve asked.

The shook his head frowning. "I don't know. Only that she is still in surgery. But I assure you, she's in good hands."

Steve shook hands with the doctor, "Thank you Doctor. Could we see him?"

The doctor agreed with a nod of his head and told them what room he was in, but warned that they stay only a few minutes.

All three men quietly entered the private room. As they approached the bed, they saw that Danny's face was pale and his eyes were closed. His hair had been shaven on the side of the wound and a big bandage was over the wound and his head was wrapped in gauze.

"Danno?" Steve asked. "How do you feel?"

Slowly opening his eyes Danny saw Steve standing beside the bed. There were two other blurred figures beside him. "Okay, I guess, they've got me so drugged up… I can't stay awake." He murmured.

"So the great Danny Williams finally gets to bed before ten o'clock huh?" Steve said with a grin, chiding him about the late night dates he was known for.

"Funny, Steve, really funny." Danny replied smiling at the humor from his boss and friend. "What about Marti?" He asked as the grin faded.

"Don't know anything yet, only that she's still in surgery." Steve replied with a sincere look on his face. "The doctors here are top-notch. If anyone can help her, they can."

"How long has it been?"

"About three hours."

Danny nodded his head slowly as the drugs took affect and drifted off to sleep.

Steve gave the sleeping detective a pat on his arm and directed that they leave. After arranging for a HPD officer as security for Danny's hospital room. Giving instructions that only authorized personnel are to enter Steve turned to Kono and Chin. "Go home. I'll stay until I know something about Marti."

As McGarrett waited patiently for news on Marta, he replayed the day over and over in his mind. Trying to determine where the leak could possibly be in his security. All the men he used had proven records in such cases, but two more officers were dead. Why did it fail this time he asked himself as he alternated between staring out the window and pacing back and forth within the confines of the waiting room.

It was nearly seven o'clock, six hours since the shooting when Dr. Bergman happened to see McGarrett in the waiting room. Knocking lightly on the doorframe he entered and asked him why he was still here.

Steve told him about Marta Michelson, "I'm going to wait until I learn of her condition. So far I only know that she is still in surgery."

Bergman knew better than to argue with the Five-O chief volunteered, "I'll to find out what I can."

Half an hour later Bergman returned with the news that Miss Michelson was out of surgery. And her condition was critical. After filling Steve in on the details, Bergman urged the man to go home, there was nothing he could do at the moment.

Before leaving, Steve asked to be notified of any changes in Marta's condition. He also arranged for tightened security at door to her room.

***

The sun had just peaked above the mountains when Steve arrived at his office at the Palace. His mind didn't stop at all during the night and resulted in not getting much sleep. He grabbed some coffee from the hot plate and walked over to the lanai and leaned against the doorframe. His mind still churned on the scant facts of the case. He tried to push Marta's condition from the forefront of his thoughts assuring himself that she was a strong lady and that she would pull through. But couldn't suppress his worry for her out of his mind.

He had more than enough to occupy his attention at the office. Calling Fred Morton to bring him up to speed on the break-in the previous night, the attempted murder of Dan Williams and Marta Michelson at the safe house, and that Evan Paxton was dead, was at the top of a very long list. There was also the regular backlog of cases that would demand the attention of all the detectives. With Williams out of action for the next couple of weeks, wouldn't make their jobs any easier. Steve tried to stay in control of his emotions because this case wasn't going well. He wished that the FBI had contacted Five-O when Maxwell first arrived in the islands.

Moving from the lanai Steve walked to his desk and picked up the phone and proceeded to dial Fred Morton’s number at the bureau.

"What!" The Director exclaimed as he launched from his chair spilling his morning coffee all over his desk. "See Steve? See what I mean!" He shouted and groaned at the coffee spreading on his blotter. "That's why I didn't want Five-O involved! If the bureau had handled this that girl wouldn't be in the hospital! You've botched up this whole case Steve and put that girl's life unnecessarily at risk!"

The Director's explosion could be heard all the way across town. "Fred," Steve used his best diplomacy, "let me re-emphasize the fact that the murder of Paul Maxwell was in Five-O's jurisdiction. And I won't back off on this investigation."

"You have to Steve." Morton barked back, "This is my responsibility. I'll take care of it from here."

"No, Fred I won't back down, this has gone too far." Steve recanted. "I have determined there is a leak in security, which I intend to plug. No matter what it takes. Paxton got to the house too damn quick for any other explanation."

Morton slammed the receiver down so hard that the click in McGarrett's ear was louder than usual. He didn't want to hear what he was going to say, he already knew.

Angered by the Director's attitude Steve mused, so much for inter-agency cooperation and dropped the receiver down on his phone.

The Director slowly removed his hand from the phone. A worried look was on his face as he leaned back in his chair and nervously rubbed his face still staring at the phone. He knew McGarrett all too well to doubt his resolve in this matter. The man's like a bloodhound when he gets on the scent, and there'll be no stopping him. With this thought he slowly leaned forward and reluctantly picked up the phone and dialed a long distance number. As he waited for the connection he nervously took out a cigarette and lit it and inhaled deeply.

***

Chin and Kono walked in to the office disturbing Steve's thoughts. "How's Miss Michelson?" Chin asked with concern for the young woman.

Steve turned to face his detectives and answered slowly, repeating what Doc Bergman had told him. "Her condition is critical… the bullet punctured a lung… and she lost a lot of blood. They had her in surgery over five hours. If she makes it through the next 12 hours the doctors say that she has a good chance of pulling through." Sighing deeply he returned to business at hand he inquired to Kono, who showed signs of distress at the news of the girl's condition.

"What did you find at the beach house, Kono?"

"The bullets we pulled out of the trees were the same as those recovered from Paul Maxwell and Jimmy Ling." He paused momentarily as a grim look grew on his face. "And one more thing Boss… we found McFadden. He's dead."

"What!" Steve exclaimed, his eyes narrowed and harden to a steel hard glare. "How!"

"He was shot, point blank. There were powder burns on his jacket. His body was covered with palm branches near some shrubbery at the edge of the beach. There were impressions in the sand that led off in the same direction that Danny and the Michelson girl took."

"Looks like he followed them all right." Chin added.

"How! How did this guy know where the safe house was!" Steve barked slamming his fist on his desk in frustration. "Tell me, somebody please tell me!"

"Would have to be someone on the inside." Chin suggested.

"But who would benefit by providing the location of a protected witness?" Kono added.

"That's just my thinking!" Steve said as his facial expression became intense and began to snap his fingers and began pacing back and forth behind his desk he began to speculate. "It would have to be the one with the most to lose in this case. That would mean Lou Sanders, wouldn't it?" He asked his men. "He alone would stand to benefit the most by eliminating the only damaging witness against him."

Chin added. "Yeah, eliminate the key witness and there would be no trial. The charges would be dropped and he'd walk."

"Then any amount in payoffs would be worth it." Kono remarked. "But no one in HPD would have a interest in wanting the girl dead."

"Has to be someone with a weakness. An Achilles Heel that Sanders can take advantage of and get his hooks into." Steve theorized. "And I want to know who that someone is." Moving to the bulletin board he intently looked at the photos. "I want everyone checked out that's been on this case from the very beginning. And knew the location of both houses, and I mean everybody. No exceptions."

"What about Fred Morton? Do you want him checked out too?" Chin asked.

"Yeah, especially Fred Morton. He was the only one outside of Five-O and HPD that knew where Miss Michelson was. Hit the phone records, bank accounts then use your imagination, I want the book gentlemen, get on it."

"On it boss." Kono replied as he and Chin turn and leave the office. Leaving McGarrett as he stared intently at the photos. He contemplated one after the other. Going over in his mind all the facts they had on each one of the men in the photos and their association to Lou Sanders. His eyes fall on the picture of Marta Michelson. The victim of this conspiracy. Or was this a conspiracy? He thought. Was there more than one person's intent on making sure she didn't testify? This still comes back to who was feeding information to Paxton. Who? Steve thought over and over in his mind. Moving to his desk he picked up the files on the men in the photos provided by Morton's office. Loosening his tie he sat down at his desk and began to review each one again.

Several hours later Chin burst into Steve's office. "Steve, I think I found something."

"Good we could use a break." Steve said wearily as he put down the file he was reading and rubbed his face. "What is it?"

"You're not going to like it."

"Let's have it anyway."

"Everybody checks out so far." Chin reported. "But when I was checking Fred Morton's phone records, I found several calls made and received from a Las Vegas number to Morton's number over at the bureau."

"That's not unusual Chin, he has to be in contact with the office there." Steve replied.

"That's just it Steve, it's not the bureaus number. I checked. It's a private number assigned to a company called Peerless Imports. Lou Sanders is the owner."

Alarmed, Steve sat forward in his chair at what he heard. "Let me see that." He requested. His eyes traveled down the itemized list of calls made from Morton's office phone. He saw that the calls date back about four weeks. The last one was two days ago.

"But that still doesn't make Fred a suspect. Somebody else could've made those calls using his phone." Steve commented. He didn't want to believe that Fred Morton could be responsible. He was a trusted agent who had integrity and many years of experience.

"That's not all. On the bank record check, I found sizable deposits have been made over the past year to three separate accounts at three separate banks, all belonging to Fred Morton."

Steve looked up from the phone record file more alarmed than before. Chin handed the file to him and recited what he discovered as Steve examined the second file. "The deposits range from two thousand to ten thousand dollars." Chin said with disappointment in his voice. "The two ten thousand-dollar deposits were made as recently as a month ago. Making a grand total of sixty eight thousand."

"Sixty-eight thousand!" Steve exclaimed looking at the veteran detective in disbelief. He stood from his chair and walked over to the lanai doors and gazed out at the trees and street but not seeing them as he digested the information he just heard. His mind swirled in disbelief but couldn't deny that the puzzle pieces were beginning to fall into place.

"Chin." He finally said, "Check for a source of that money. I want to know where that money came from."

"Got it." Chin replied as he turned to leave but stopped at the door and turned back to the Five-O chief. "What if it turns out that these are payoffs?"

"I don't know Chin." Steve said somberly as he kept looking out the door.

"Does he know about the break-in at the safe house?" Chin asked.

"Yeah, I phoned him this morning and he wasn't too happy." Steve answered as he remembered the conversation and the abrupt end to it.

"Yeah, I'll bet." The veteran detective commented as he left the office.

"Yeah." Steve murmured. It has been a long day and his body felt it but returned to the caseload on his desk, and the day wasn't over yet either, he thought ruefully.

***

The sun was just about to disappear below the horizon and the sky was in the final stages of the nightly display of reds and oranges of the spectacular Hawaiian sunset. Steve gazed out at the horizon. He contemplated the information gathered on the case so far, and was sorting it out piece by piece when Chin came back with the information on the check on the deposits, he joined him on the lanai.

"Steve, the money in Fred Morton's accounts, it didn't come from an inheritance or from any investments that I can find."

Steve looked at the veteran detective with the somber expression. That's it, he thought. There's the proof. It was no longer theory. Fred Morton had to be the one who gave out the location of the house. He knew every move that Steve made with Miss Michelson, and the address of the safe house. How else would the assassin know where it was so quickly? That meant he knew Marta Michelson was alive and still posed a potential threat to Sanders. But what would be Fred's next move be now that Paxton was dead? And what about Paul Maxwell? His reaction to the news of his death appeared genuine Steve thought. He seemed to honestly not know. And what about the house on Moanaloa, did he leak that information too?

What would be his next move? Make an attempt on the girl's life himself? Maybe, he thought, but with HPD security… Morton would be the only other person to get past it. This thought was discomforting to the Five-O chief, who, deep down, hoped he was wrong.

"Come on Chin, we're going to the hospital." Steve said as he returned to his desk and removed his gun from the drawer, popped out the cylinder and checked it for live rounds. "I'm going to play a hunch." Closing the cylinder he shoved the weapon into his shoulder holster. Tightening his tie he walked out of the office and out to his car with the Chinese detective right behind him.

***

The door opened to Marta's private hospital room and a figure of a man slowly entered the darkened room. The light from the corridor spilled inside revealing the still form lying in the bed. The door closed behind him. Hesitantly the man walked over to the bed and stared at the unconscious woman.

The only light was over the head of the bed. Giving the oxygen tent over the bed an ominous glow. The only audible sound was the buzz of the fluorescent light and the rhythmic beep of the heart monitor that was stationed on the other side of the bed. An IV bottle hung from a stand beside the bed. The tube that dripped the fluid into her body was taped to her forearm and an oxygen tent was suspended over her head. A regretful expression was evident on the man's face in the available light as he pulled out a gun with a silencer from his waistband. His hand shook as he moved the plastic aside and pointed it at Marta's head.

"Is that how you want to end your career Fred?" Said a familiar voice emanating from a dark corner of the room. "With murder?"

The already extremely nervous man was startled and visibly shook as he looked up and watched, as the outline of the figure grew familiar as he approached the opposite side of the bed.

The lights click on. The Director turned to make a run for the door. Only to stop abruptly when he saw the Chinese detective standing behind him with his gun pointed at him. Turning back around Fred was confronted by the disappointed expression on McGarrett's face at the realization that he was right.

"Steve," Morton asked surprised to find the head of Five-O lurking in dark hospital rooms, "what are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same question." Steve replied with disappointment in his voice. "Right now I’m stopping you from making the biggest mistake of your life." Gesturing to the weapon in Morton's hand.

Fred looked down at the gun in his hand and lifted his eyes back to McGarrett's steel-hard gaze. He knew that he was caught virtually in the act he had no other choice. Slowly he surrendered his gun to Chin Ho as he walked up to him.

"Why?" Steve implored keeping a firm grip on his temper.

Chin took the Director's gun and put it in his pocket. Holstering his own he preceded pat the man down. When he was through he snapped handcuffs on around the Morton's wrists.

"You wouldn't understand. Steve, I had to."

Knowing that they were in a hospital, Steve kept his voice down trying to curb his swelling anger. "Then make me understand. Tell me why you would throw away everything you worked for all these years, your credibility, reputation. Your career! And for what? Murder?" Steve pressed hard. He wanted a reason and saw that Fred was becoming more distressed. So he tried his hunch. "What does Lou Sanders have on you?"

Morton locked eyes with the Five-O chief as the muscles tightened in his face. "That's it, isn't it? It's Lou Sanders." Steve saw the twitch in the man's face. "What is it Fred? Gambling debts? Blackmail?" That combined with his expression nailed it. "What does he have on you?"

Morton shook his head as his shoulders slumped. He let out a deep sigh as he regretfully admitted his guilt to himself. Taking a last look at the still form of the woman lying in the bed he replied sullenly, "Not here Steve."

"Okay Fred, agreed. Not here. We'll continue this in my office." Steve ordered. "Chin, get him outta here."

Chin took hold of Fred's arm and led him out of the hospital room.

Steve lingered by the bed for a moment. He straightened the plastic of the oxygen tent with his hands so he could see Marti. Her skin was pale against the green bed sheets. Her face looked peaceful. The fearful and stressed expression she had been wearing since he met her was not there. A regretful look grew on his face as he rubbed his hand across his forehead. He sighed and remembered his promise to her that nothing would happen to her. What would he say to her if she survives? Before leaving he glanced over at the heart monitor and the IV bottle to make sure that nothing was disturbed. He had only taken couple of steps when he heard a soft murmur come from the bed.

Stopping abruptly Steve turned and returned to the bedside. He saw a small movement of her head. His worry eased slightly when he saw the slight stirrings of a woman the doctors had said the day before had a slim chance of survival. She just might beat the odds after all he thought. He placed his hand on hers and squeezed ever so slightly and said, "Hang in there kiddo, you're going to be all right." When he saw no more movement, he quietly left the room.

While he was at the hospital he decided he would check on Williams. Acknowledging the officer on duty outside Danny's room Steve quietly entered the room and walked up to the side of the bed. Due to the late hour he didn't want to wake him. He just stood there watched his detective sleep for a few minutes. In the dim light of the room he noticed that he did look better than the previous night. Satisfied with Danny's condition, he left the hospital. And returned to his office to face Fred Morton, a confrontation he was not looking forward to.

***

McGarrett strode into the Five-O office to find Chin and an HPD officer standing next to a seated Fred Morton, whose hands were still cuffed. Steve motioned the three men to follow him into his office. Chin closed the door as Fred Morton sat in one of the chairs in front of Steve's desk. He pushed the record button on the tape recorder on his desk and placed the microphone in front of the somber Director. Balancing a hip on the corner of his desk crossed his legs and allowed his tall frame to loom over the handcuffed man.

"All right Fred, let's have it." McGarrett grimly requested. His anger was obvious as he stared at the Director. "What were you doing in that hospital room tonight Fred."

Having worked with McGarrett on previous cases, Fred knew how intense and driven this man could be. But never before had he seen him like this. Uneasy and nervous as the Five-O chief loomed over him, "Steve, you have to believe me when I tell you that I didn't want any of this to happen." Pleaded the Director.

"What did you expect to happen?" McGarrett asked with a wave of his hand. "Just a simple witness elimination and life goes on?

The charges against your are very serious Fred. Let me lay it out for you." Steve counted out on his fingers for emphasis. "Four police officers and one civilian are dead. Dan Williams nearly got his head blown off yesterday. And Marta Michelson is barely alive after the latest in a series of attempts on her life. And tonight, I find you in her hospital room ready to finish the job.

I can charge you with attempted murder, conspiracy before and after the fact in the murders of four police officers and a street hustler named Jimmy Ling. And conspiracy after the fact to transport a hired killer across state lines. That's a federal offense Fred, and I'm going for a federal indictment. You can go to prison for a very long time, my friend." Steve crossed his arms in front of himself, and stared intensely at the man in front of him. "Do you want to tell me everything now?"

"I didn't know he was going to kill Paul Maxwell." Fred glumly replied.

"Come on, Fred!" Steve quickly stood and moved to behind his desk. "That's what hired killers do! They kill people! And you, of all people should know that!"

"Honest, Steve, I didn't know Paul Maxwell was dead until you showed me those pictures the other day."

Steve raised his eyebrows. "And you expect me to believe that?"

"Yes, I do." Was Morton's reply.

Steve fingered the files containing the incriminating documents considering what he would say next. "We found three separate bank accounts in your name at three different banks with balances totaling sixty eight thousand dollars. Can you explain where the money came from?"

"You found about that, huh?" Fred replied with a grimace.

"Where'd the money come from Fred."

Meeting the stare from the Five-O chief, Fred shuddered. Sighing deeply he sank into the chair. The severity and enormity of his actions smacked him right in the face. He had tried to repress his guilt since this all started came to the forefront. Staring at the handcuffs around his wrists, he thought that perhaps his ulcer would go away now. "The money came from Lou Sanders." He replied in a flat voice.

The answer made Steve break the stare. He blinked his eyes in long blinks. He regretted seeing anyone's career in law enforcement end like this. But the law was broken. Payoffs made, and good men died because of his action or inaction whichever it may be.

"What was the money for." Steve asked.

Fred looked at McGarrett with the eyes of a beaten man and slowly he began to tell the story. "Before I came to Hawaii, I worked out of the Las Vegas bureau office. Where I --- had accumulated gambling losses… ones that I couldn't cover. So I did a very stupid thing. I borrowed from a shark. Sanders somehow found out about it." Fred sighed in mid sentence, "I don't know how, but he did. He phoned me that same week with an offer to pay off the loan. And in return he wanted information on any bureau investigations that were of interest to him. And if I didn't go along with his proposal he would make me regret my decision."

"Regret your decision? He threatened you?" Steve inquired, "Did he say how he would do this?"

Fred slowly shook his head. "That was just it, he didn't. So… I reluctantly agreed to what he asked. At first it was small stuff, nothing major. But that didn't make me like it any less. When I transferred here three years ago, I thought I would be through with him. When I didn't hear from him for over a year, I thought it was over, until…" Briefly pausing Fred looked off toward the opposite side of the room avoiding McGarrett's gaze.

"Until a very damaging witness against him came to the islands." Steve said finishing the statement.

"Yeah." Fred replied.

"Let me get this straight. Sanders called you at your office, here, and insisted that you work for him again using the same threat, is that it?"

Fred somberly nodded his head.

"How did he know Marta Michelson was here in Hawaii?" Steve asked.

"I don't know how he knew!" Fred erupted in frustration, "That's just it, Steve. I hadn't had any contact with him in almost three years." Fred replied as he strained against the handcuffs.

"But still he insisted on knowing her location." Steve asked as he came back around his desk and sat back down on the corner as Fred continued

"Yeah he did. I told him that I didn't know where she was and to lose my phone number. I said that I was through with him and I didn't owe him anything anymore. But he insisted that he didn't want to let go of such a valuable asset in his business and refused to let me off the hook. He wasn't going to take no for an answer."

"What did he do then?" Steve asked.

"After I insisted I had no knowledge of where she was… he did a strangest thing… he accepted it. It seemed like he had better idea." Fred replied. "Then he told me to tell whoever was protecting her to go to the airport in two days. Said for me to tell him that the office was sending an extra agent to help him with protecting the girl."

"An extra agent?" Steve replied. "How did Paul Maxwell take it when you told him."

"He hated it." Replied the Director. "Said that the bureau knew how he worked and became suspicious of the request. Said that's he worked alone with minimal contact with the local agencies. The fewer people that knew about his assignments the better, he said. But I told him he didn't have a choice in the matter."

"Didn't you become suspicious of this request?"

"No, I didn't." Fred replied. "I was just relieved that he wasn't insisting that the information come from me."

"When did you tell Paul Maxwell that he would have help with his assignment?"

"About four days before I learned he was dead." Fred sighed.

Steve glared at the man seated before him. Straining to control his temper, he almost shouted. "Do you realize that you signed that man's death warrant when you sent him go to the airport!"

"I didn't know what was going to happen!"

"Fred, you are in this up to your neck whether you like it or not." Steve retorted. Taking a deep breath, he looked around his office. He stood and began to pace back and forth next to where Fred was seated. Morton sagged into his seat and ran his handcuffed hands through his thinning hair. "This is what I think happened. Sanders sends Paxton here to Hawaii. Paul Maxwell meets him at the airport. Paxton then forces him, most likely at gunpoint, to drive to some remote location where Paxton beats and tortures him trying to get information on the girl's location. Maxwell is tough and he doesn't break. In frustration Paxton kills Maxwell and dumps the body at the Palm Motel. A place where the body goes undiscovered for days. Paxton then contacts one Jimmy Ling. A patsy, who knew the streets, he is sent to find the girl using a photograph. Once she's located, he passes that information to Paxton. Then gets killed himself when he tries to collect his fee.

The first attempt at the house on Maunaloa fails. And I tell you I was taking Miss Michelson to the safe house at Koko Head. And you passed that information on to the assassin, didn't you?" Steve stopped and walked back behind his desk and waited for what Fred would say next.

"Steve." Fred said in an effort to defend himself, shifted in his seat. "You have to believe me, I didn't want any of this!"

"Do I need to remind you that four officers are dead." Steve said as he lifted the files on the homicides. "What am I going to tell their families?" And dropped them back down on the desk. "That the esteemed Director of the Honolulu FBI was too busy covering up his own corrupted activities and allowed an assassin to come here to Hawaii unhindered to kill indiscriminately? Including a witness in your custody that you were sworn to protect!" McGarrett snarled.

"Steve, I'm sorry, but what could I do?"

"You could've told me the truth from the very beginning!" Erupted the Five-O chief, "The truth about your involvement. You could've saved some lives!" Steve's eyes narrowed, and he pointed his hand at Fred and balled it to make a fist. "When you came barging in here three days ago, it was your intention to push this case onto Five-O wasn't it? So if anything happened to the girl, Five-O would be held accountable and you and the bureau would be off the hook, literally, isn't it?"

Fred sat emotionless under the verbal barrage.

"One last question Fred, and I want to hear the truth. What were you doing in Miss Michelson's hospital room tonight with a gun?"

Fred looked up at Steve as his blue eyes bore into him with his jaw firmly set. Knowing he'll get no mercy from the Five-O chief, he resigned himself to continue. "After your phone call this morning I called Sanders and told him that his man was dead and that the girl was still alive but badly hurt and in the hospital. He wanted her dead and didn't care how it was done. I --- I --- told him I wanted nothing more to do with him. But he didn't want to hear about it. With all the money he had paid me, he said he owned me and that there was nothing I could do about it. I--- didn't know what to do." Fred admitted.

"He wanted you to commit murder for him?" Steve asked.

Fred's shoulders sagged and nodded his head staring at the handcuffs.

As Steve continued to look down at Fred, his expression changed from intense interrogator to one of both disappointment and regret. A man he once respected whose career and perhaps his life was to uphold the law, was reduced to a regular felon. Because he had caved in to threats and the worst of it was, he didn’t ask for help when he needed it the most. Without the strength to ask for help he just got himself in deeper and deeper into the corrupted world of Lou Sanders. Steve's only hope was that Marta would pull through and put that sewer rat Sanders behind bars for life.

Steve moved slowly back behind his desk and asked. "Do you have any more to say on your own behalf?"

Fred lifted his head and looked at McGarrett. Seeing the disappointment on his face, he shook his head and said, "No, Steve. I'm sorry."

Steve responded in a firm voice and a set jaw. "I'm sorry too, Fred." Reaching over he hit the stop button on the tape recorder. "Book him Chin, for attempted murder, six counts of conspiracy, and one count of conspiracy to import an assassin across state lines."

Fred slowly stood and made eye contact with the Five-O chief one last time. The two lawmen locked gazes for just a moment. Without saying a word Fred turned to leave as Chin Ho escorted him from the office. Steve's expression went somber as he fingered the files on his desk only to pick them up then slam them back down. He walked over and pushed opened the French doors to the lanai, leaning against the doorframe he gazed off into the night.

The lights of Honolulu glistened against the night sky and a light cool breeze rustled the palm trees that lined King Boulevard blew against his face. His thoughts were of his friend and colleague Danny Williams, thankful that he would recover. But couldn't chase from his mind that he could have just as easily lost him to the assassin's bullet.

And what of Marta Michelson? If she survives will she still want to testify? Or would she be to frightened to go through with it? He really couldn't blame her if she chose the latter, he thought. A glance at his watch made him realize how late the hour was. With a deep sigh he knew there was nothing more he could do tonight. He decided he would stop by the hospital in the morning and check in on Danno and Marti to see how they're doing. Smiling to himself when he thought of Danno, knowing him he would probably be making passes at the nurses by morning. Closing the lanai doors he turned off the lights and went home.

***

The next morning Steve strode through the corridor at the hospital and stopped at the nurse's station

to ask about Miss Michelson. They told him that there was some improvement but she was still unconscious. Thanking the nurse he proceeded to Williams' room. He paused briefly outside when he and the officer on duty at the door heard female laughter coming from inside. Smirking to himself, he was right about the passes and knew that his friend would quickly recover. He pushed open the door and walked inside and stopped at the foot of the bed. Danny was propped up in bed and was involved in a sprightly conversation with the nurse while she took his blood pressure and temperature.

"And here I thought you would be needing my help this morning Danno." Steve said jokingly as he tried to suppress the smile that was growing on his face.

"Hi Steve. That's okay, got it covered." Danny said as the thermometer flopped up and down between his lips.

"Yeah, I can see that." Steve replied as his effort to keep from smiling failed at the image before him.

The nurse quickly reprimanded her patient for talking with the thermometer in his mouth.

Danny feigned being hurt although his head felt like someone inside had a base drum and was playing the 1812 Overture with great enthusiasm.

The nurse finished up and excused herself before giving her patient the traditional warning to take it easy and to try not to over do it and for his visitor not to stay very long.

After the nurse left Danny settled back against the pillow and asked. "How's Marti doing?"

Steve anticipated the question but didn't have good news for him. He briefly glanced at the floor took a couple of steps forward. "She's still unconscious. But the doctors say she's improving. We just have to wait." His expression became serious as he sat down sat down on the corner of the bed. "Danno, tell me about what happened at the safe house."

"Well," Danny began, "it all happened so fast. After hearing what sounded like an explosion I went to the front door and looked outside. I saw a man crossing the street toward the house; I saw Apaki was on the ground. But he angled off to the side out of sight. I went to pick up the phone to call you but it went dead."

"That must've been when he cut the phone line." Steve commented. "Go on."

"That's when I grabbed Marti and made a run for the back door. The front door broke open and he fired a couple times at us. I returned fire as we ran for the beach. I remembered there was an old gas station up the beach that had a phone, so we headed there. In the trees, I remember him catching up with us and he shot at us again. I turned around to fire back and… I don't remember anything clearly after that. It's just a blur."

"That's all right Danno. I'm just glad that you're okay."

"But what about Marti, Steve?" Danny asked his voice filled with worry.

"I know Danno, I know. I'm worried about her too." Steve replied with similar feelings.

"How did that guy know where the safe house was anyway?"

"That's where it gets complicated Danno." Steve rose from the bed and moved to the window and looked out. "Fred Morton told him."

Danny's eyes widened and his mouth slacked open in shock. "You're kidding. Fred Morton? Mr. Squeaky Clean, Do Things By The Book or Else. That Fred Morton?"

"One in the same."

"Why?" Danny asked dumbfounded.

"Turns out that Fred had been on Sanders' payroll while he lived in Las Vegas. When he transferred here he disassociated himself from him. Until one day a damaging witness was brought here to wait out an indictment."

"Marti." Danny sighed.

"Yeah, Marti." Steve repeated. "Sanders then contacted our illustrious Director, who was in an ideal position here in Hawaii, and wanted him to reveal the location of where Marti was staying. He had refused to cooperate at first. But a check of his bank records revealed sixty-eight thousand dollars that he didn't pay taxes on. And phone records showed that he had made numerous phone calls to Sanders on his private line at his business in Las Vegas. And last night I found him in Marti's room with a gun attempting to finish the job Paxton started."

Danny was speechless. When Steve finished giving him all the details from the previous night ending with Fred Morton's arrest. Before he left, Danny told Steve that Marti had been having nightmares, and wakes up screaming. He also mentioned that he noticed that she has put on a strong front. But on the inside he was sure the stress was tearing her apart. Steve agreed with his assessment and left the room. His next stop was Marta's room. He wanted to check on her himself.

As Steve approached Marta's room, a nurse's aide approached him with an overloaded meal tray. She accidentally bumped into him and spilled the plates and silverware to the floor which made a loud crashing noise. One of the officers at Marta's door and McGarrett help the embarrassed young woman pick up the plates from the floor and Steve had asked her if she was all right. She assured them that she was fine. As Steve stood he handed the tray back to her. With a courteous 'thank you' she took the tray and continued with her duties.

Steve turned and pushed the door open to Marta's room glancing at the other officer stationed outside and walked up to her bedside. The heart monitor was still beeping. He noticed that the oxygen tent had been removed and her color was better, but was still a little pale. Her improved appearance eased his worry some and he lingered by her bedside for a moment. Before he turned to leave he saw her move slightly and slowly she opened her eyes.

She blinked her eyes slowly in long blinks until she was able to focus her eyes and saw a tan-suited figure standing next to her bed.

Steve took hold of her hand.

"What took you so long?" She said weakly when her eyes focused enough that she recognized the Five-O chief.

"Hey kiddo, welcome back." He said with a smile, "How do you feel?"

"Lousy." She replied in a raspy voice. "Where am I?"

"Lehani Hospital."

"How long…" She began to say moving her head to get a better look at the Five-O chief. The breath she took caused some painful discomfort in her chest. It was enough for her to pause and close her eyes until it passed.

"How long have you been here?" He finished her question. She nodded her head slowly and opens her eyes again. "Just over two days."

It took a moment for her to comprehend how much time had passed since the fear-filled chase on the beach but didn't have the strength to react. Unable to keep her eyes open any longer she fell back asleep.

He watched her for a moment and gave her hand another reassuring squeeze. "I'll come back later." He said feeling assured that she was going to be just fine and laid her hand back down on the bed.

As Steve walked out of the hospital, a stern look was on his face as he thought about Fred Morton and Lou Sanders. The more he thought about it the angrier he got. Fred Morton was a good man. Sanders has to be stopped he thought as he reached his car. He jerked the car door open hard enough that it bounced back toward him. Looking back at the hospital he thought that he almost lost his good friend, Dan Williams, and a woman he had only recently met. He also concluded that he had never met anyone like Marta Michelson before.

He had grown to admire her for her strength and courage. She didn't deserve to be haunted by nightmares. Lou Sanders needs to be put away for a very long time. And he would do everything in his power to see that Marta has the opportunity to do just that. He sat down in his car and shut the door and started the motor and drove back to the Palace.

***

Over the next week McGarrett's time was spent on the regular caseload and preparation of others for trial. Only then did he begin to work on the arrangements for Marta's trip back to Las Vegas. He had insisted on all the persons involved in the transfer of custody of Marta be checked out thoroughly and completely to his satisfaction. Leaving nothing to chance in regards to her safety. Which left him no time to visit her in the hospital.

Danny's stay in the hospital was a short one and was released just after a few days. But didn't go home, he had insisted on hanging around her room so she wouldn't be alone. He felt like he had let her down that day on the beach. This was his way of making it up to her for his failure to protect her. Steve disagreed with him on his reasons, but understood, and allowed him to stay. But ordered him to take a couple of weeks off to rest up before returning to work.

When Steve finally had time to go to the hospital, Marta was awake. She was still weak from her injury and was propped up in the bed. A big difference from the last time he saw her.

She was glad to see the Five-O chief walk in because she hadn't had any visitors other than the hospital staff. And they quietly came and went attending to their duties.

"Hey, Mr. McGarrett," She said weakly, "It's good to see you."

"You look much better than the last time I was here. How are you feeling?" Steve asked noticing that her face looked more relaxed than the last time he saw her before the shooting.

"A little better thanks. How's Danny doing?" She asked.

"Danno's doing fine. He'll have a king-sized headache for a while. But he'll recover. They discharged him earlier this week." Sitting down on the corner of the bed he said. "You know it almost took a crowbar to get him out of here? He wouldn't leave your side."

"Oh yeah?" Marta replied.

"You were pretty much out of it at the time. I'll tell him that you asked about him when I see him." Steve offered, "The doctors tell me that you're doing just fine, too."

"If they believe that, they should see it from my side." Marta replied dryly, as she referred to the boredom of hospital stays.

Steve looked at her sincerely, "Marti, Danno tells me that you've been having nightmares, is there anything I can do?"

With a deep sigh, Marta looked away from the Five-O chief, "He told you about that, huh?"

"Yeah, he's worried about you." Steve replied earnestly.

"Well… there is something you can do for me." She said leaning her head against the pillow and glanced at the Five-O chief.

"And what's that." Steve answered with interest.

"Can you make the last two and half months just go away? Just take them off the books like they never happened and bring Bonnie back." She asked as tears began to well up in her eyes that were quickly wiped away. "I just want my life back. Can you do that?"

Distress was evident in the woman's eyes. He regretfully said, "I wish I could, Marti. I wish I could just wave my hand and erase this whole experience for you. But I can't do that. But if you want to talk about it I'm a good listener."

"I don't think that will do any good."

"How do you know that, have you tried it?" Steve replied with an encouraging look on his face.

"No, I haven't." She replied as she doubtfully looked at the Five-O chief. After a few moments she guessed that McGarrett was right and it wouldn't hurt to talk about it. She began to describe her dream to him and the images in detail. Which included the death of her friend when car exploded. Disjointed images that didn't make any sense and the deep-seated feelings of fear and frustration she had been keeping inside ever since this whole thing started. Then on to the first shooting where she was wounded and what could've happened if she hadn't tripped. The image of Lou Sanders laughing a sinister laugh and that the images would repeat over and over. Each time the sound would get louder the car exploding close to her and is where she would wake up.

As she spoke McGarrett took her hand in his and held it firmly. "Everything's going to be all right." He said reassuringly when she had finished.

Marta managed a slight smile. McGarrett was right she thought, talking about the nightmare did make her feel a little bit better. She didn't feel alone with her fear anymore. Now that someone else knew about it, it might subside.

But this wasn't the reason Steve came to visit. He had wanted to tell her that he had been in touch with the Las Vegas DA but decided that it could wait for another day.

***

McGarrett returned a couple of days later to give her the news of the indictment. She visibly shuddered when she heard the news. "They tell me that they anticipate going to trial in about ten days. They'll keep me informed if there are any changes." He told her.

The fear she had been feeling all this time came back. She closed her eyes and sighed. The images of the events of the past few months flashed in her head. She had not had to think about her fear over the last few days.

McGarrett saw the expression on her face change from calm to what she had wore since he had first met her, that of a controlled fear.

"You're going to be all right Marti. You'll do just fine." He said.

She looked at McGarrett with worried eyes nodding her head as her hand closed around the sheet and pulled it up to her chin.

Patting her arm he consolingly said. "Don't worry. Everything will be all right and to try to relax." Standing he started to leave, but stopped when he reached the door. He looked back at Marta and saw her tighten her grip on the sheets. This has really got her scared he thought. He wished he could do more to make this easier for her. But any kind of definite answer eluded him. He pulled open the door and left.

***

Five days later Marta was released from the hospital. Steve was there to pick her up to drive her to the hotel where he had made arrangements for her to stay until she was to leave for Las Vegas. He maneuvered the Mercury through the traffic and headed out of town. During the drive he organized his thoughts on how he would tell her about Lou Sanders and Fred Morton. He felt she should know the truth behind the attempts on her life. And that this should be done privately because he didn't know how she would take the news.

"This isn't the way to the hotel is it?" Marta asked as she noticed that they were driving out of the city limits.

"I want to talk to you. And I thought it would best if I did so privately."

Marta looked at McGarrett curiously, "What's wrong with your office?"

"There's nothing wrong with my office. I have someplace else in mind." He said as he glanced over at his passenger.

Taking a turnoff from the highway he drove for a few minutes over a well-traveled dirt road before he brought the car to a stop at the end of the road. Marta stared at the beach and the ocean from the car with increased apprehensiveness. The last time she was on a beach she and Danny were running for their lives from a killer, and these memories were not easy to experience.

Steve shut off the motor and walked around and offered his hand to help Marta out of the car. Nervously she took it. He didn't release her hand and but kept hold of it as he walked her to the water's edge and began to stroll along the beach. He sensed her nervousness and remained silent for the moment. The sun was warm and the water lapped against the sand and a cool ocean breeze was blew against their faces and the nearby trees swayed back and forth that made a rustling sound.

Marta tried to calm herself. Reassuring herself that no one wants to kill her now, and there is nothing to be afraid of. She noticed that the Five-O chief still had a firm hold of her hand. She found that she was able to relax a little bit for the first time in a long time. She increased her grip on his hand as she closed her eyes and raised her face to the sun and ran her free hand through her hair. It had been a long time since she enjoyed the warm sunshine like this. But couldn't deny a feeling that there is something more going on than a simple walk on the beach.

McGarrett brought her hand toward his chest and added his other hand the ensemble and watched her as she enjoyed the sun. After a few moments he broke the silence. "Marti, I brought your out here to where it is peaceful and safe. Because I have some information may be hard for you to hear."

"Hard to hear?" She asked hesitantly, "What can be worse than what you've told me so far?"

He silently agreed with her comment as he continued, "Do you remember Fred Morton?"

"Fred Morton." She repeated thinking for a moment. "Yeah, wasn't he the FBI guy with you when you came to the house that first time?"

"That's him."

"What about him?" She replied as her uneasiness grew.

"Marti, this is where it gets hard." He said as he slowly approached the subject. "Fred Morton was the one responsible for sending Paul Maxwell to the airport."

Marta started to feel sick to her stomach. She stopped and looked at the Five-O chief. "You mean to tell me that he's responsible for Paul Maxwell's death?"

"Yes, but only indirectly." Steve slowly said, as his expression grew solemn. "What he's directly responsible for is giving Lou Sanders' assassin Evan Paxton the location of the house where you were staying on Koko Head."

Marta's heart sank and a cold shiver went through her body, as she looked with disbelief at McGarrett "You mean to tell me that he was the one that told that killer where I was?" She didn't want to believe it what she was hearing. Stifling tears that wanted to come, her anxiety grew and she wanted to run. She looked to the Five-O chief as the news sank in. "Why!" She cried as she tried to take her hand back, not really wanting to hear the answer.

He released her hand only to grasp her shoulders and looked her in the eye. "Fred Morton was on Lou Sanders' payroll. And has been for years. Sanders used him and his position with the FBI to get Paxton close enough to kill you."

"But why Paul?" She cried as she tried to shrug off his grip. "Why kill him?"

"Because Paul Maxwell was a dedicated agent and wouldn't reveal your location." Steve explained as he tried to keep eye contact with her. "Beaten and tortured he didn't give out your location. I'm sure of that. Paxton must have become frustrated with him and killed him. And dumped the body at the motel where he was found days later."

Marta was silent for a moment as she tried to compose herself. "Have you arrested him?" She asked.

"Yes, he's been arrested," Steve answered, "For conspiracy and attempted murder."

Marta had looked away from the Five-O chief in distress and focused on the surf. When she heard 'attempted murder' she jerked her head back and faced him with a startled look on her face.

"Attempted murder?" She asked as she focused her eyes on the Five-O chief. "Who's attempted murder?"

He shifted his hold on her shoulders, which were beginning to tremble and it wasn't from the breeze and looked into her eyes. "Marti, there was no easy way to put this. It was for your attempted murder."

"But that was that assassin wasn't it? That attempted murder?"

"No." Steve said as he shook his head. "Fred Morton was arrested in your hospital room the same night that you were brought in. He had a gun and was attempting to finish the job what Paxton started."

"Oh God." Marta gasped as her knees started to get weak, her eyes wide with shock. She grabbed McGarretts' arms to keep herself from sinking to the sand. His grip increased to keep her on her feet.

"Are you all right?" Steve asked as he helped her steady herself. She didn't respond. But let go of his arms and turned and started to walk away from him. She should have a few moments to herself he thought. So he released her and allowed her walk away, but watched her closely.

Marta stared out toward the horizon as her steps slowly faltered as her eyes brimmed with tears. All the events in the past months went through her mind. And finally realized the enormity of Lou Sanders' desire to have her dead and to what lengths he would go to assure that. The fact that best friend was dead, Paul Maxwell and those policemen bore down on her. And how close she had come to being killed too, caused her to shudder violently. Her legs gave out and she sank to her knees on the sand. Screaming out in anger. She balled her fists and pounded the sand in anger and the long held-back tears began to flow with intensity.

Steve saw her fall and scream out. Hurring to her side he knelt down beside her and saw that she was shaking and sobbing. He had suspected some reaction from her when he told her about Fred Morton. But he didn't know to what degree. That was why he had brought her out here.

Putting his arm around her shoulders he spoke to her softly with assurances that it would be all right. But her sobbing increased. Burying her face into his shoulder, gripping his jacket she continued to sob. He finally embraced her tightly with both arms and held her tightly against him and said to her that it was okay and to cry it out, he wasn't going anywhere. He had admired this woman's emotional strength and poise since the first day he met her. It was painful for him to witness the breakdown he knew was inevitable. All he could do was to comfort her the best he could, so he held her as she continued to cry until she couldn't cry anymore.

***

On the trip to the hotel Marta stared blankly out the window. She was emotionally drained and oblivious to everything around her. She didn't even remember her arrival at the hotel and McGarrett helping her to the room. As they entered the suite he helped her to the bedroom and told her that her things had been brought from the house and showed her the suitcases on the floor. After showing her where the bathroom was he went to order some food.

Marta stood in the bedroom and stared blankly at the walls. Sitting down on the bed she slowly ran her fingers through her hair. Stopping at the back of her neck she took a deep breath in an attempt to pull herself together. She felt strange, her head felt numb. This was something she had never experienced before. Maybe it was because she was exhausted, but she couldn't be sure. Thinking that maybe a hot shower would probably help she got up and opened a suitcase. Grabbed some fresh clothes and went to the bathroom and turned on the water.

Steve picked up the phone from a table and ordered a late lunch from room service and some hot coffee.

He had just replaced the phone to its cradle when it rang. It was Danny calling from his home. He wanted to know how his conversation with Marti went. Steve had told Danny earlier that he was going to tell Marti about Fred Morton, because he felt she deserved to know the truth. And relayed to him how she took the news.

"She went to pieces Danno," He said in a tired voice. "The worst I've seen."

"How's she doing now?" Danny asked.

"She seems ok for now, but only time will answer that question Danno." Steve replied. And ended the call with the request that the young detective relax and take it easy.

When Marta emerged from the bedroom she was wearing a loose-fitting lounger. A plate of sliced pineapple, papaya, oranges and watermelon were on the table along with a pot of steaming hot coffee and two cups. Marta said that the fruit looked better than hospital food. McGarrett grinned at her and invited her to help herself while he poured the coffee. But he couldn't chase away from his thoughts of his concern of her emotional state.

When the fruit was consumed the two relaxed on the sofa while sipping the last of the coffee. "Feeling better?" Steve inquired noticing that her eyes were red and puffy.

"A little bit, thanks." She replied as she sipped the coffee, "Mr. McGarrett, could I ask you a question?"

"Sure." He answered, encouraged that she wanted to talk.

"I'm not sure how to put this." She cautiously started, "But I've been thinking, what would happen if I decided not to testify."

Steve was not surprised by her question. Considering what she had been through. He sat forward on the sofa, set his cup down on the table and looked over at her as he answered. "If you don't testify, the charges against Lou Sanders would probably be dropped and he will most likely try again to have you killed." Leaning toward her he placed his hand over hers and looked at her.

"Marti, I can understand that you're scared and would want to run as far away from this situation as you can, but I would urge that you reconsider. You can do so much good by testifying. And put Lou Sanders behind bars for the rest of his life so he can't hurt you or anyone, ever again."

Marta looked at the Five-O chief dubiously and was almost sorry she asked. "How did you get so damn perceptive?" She asked as she lifted her coffee cup to take a sip.

"I'm a cop." He said with a sly grin. "Remember?"

"Oh, that's right, how could I forget." She replied, as she glanced at the Five-O chief with the beginnings of a smile. "But with the man's contacts," She argued, "wouldn't it be pointless to put him in jail? Would that really stop him? Won't his colleagues still carry out his orders regardless if he is in jail or not?"

"I'm not going to tell you that your worries are without merit, they are valid concerns." Steve replied, "I can suggest the Witness Protection Program. You would be given a new name, new identity, be relocated to a new city, and have a whole new life. That way Sanders wouldn't know where to begin to look for you."

"What if he buys off someone else in a position with that information? He's already proven he can do it, and I'd be right back where I started, wearing a bulls eye on my back."

"No," Steve tried to assure her, "you won't."

"Can you guarantee that? That he won't hire someone else and try again?" She asked as she stared him straight in the eyes.

"There are no guarantees." Steve replied, "I'll admit that right now. But it can be made very difficult if not impossible for him track you down once you enter the program."

A knock on the door interrupted their conversation. Steve excused himself and left the sofa and walked to the door to reveal a police officer. The officer said there were two men in the lobby to see him. Turning to tell Marta, Steve told her he would be right back.

While she waited for McGarrett to return she took another sip of coffee and tried to relax. Her mind whirled with conflicting emotions. She felt a slight itch from her chest wound and rubbed it the best she could to alleviate the feeling. Adjusting herself on the sofa to get more comfortable in the quiet suite, she drew her leg under her and let out a sigh. Physical and emotional exhaustion had finally caught up with her and she could not hold it back any longer. Settling against one of the pillows she closed her eyes and was asleep almost immediately. The half-empty coffee cup still cradled in her hands on her lap.

***

Stepping from the elevator McGarrett strode over to two men that stood waiting in the lobby. He extended his hand to them as he introduced himself. They identified themselves as the U.S. Marshall's he had requested.

"Mr. McGarrett," The first Marshall said, "we've been assigned per your request to escort Miss Marta Michelson to Las Vegas. We also understand that you had us checked out."

"Yes I did. I can't take any chances with Miss Michelson's safety. There have already been two attempts on her life. The last one almost succeeded." Steve replied as he motioned that they go for a walk. "So gentlemen, you can understand my position."

As they strolled around the grounds of the hotel, McGarrett laid out his plan for transporting Marta to the mainland and on to Las Vegas. His plan was that the Marshall's were to meet him and Miss Michelson at the airport. There he would turn her over to their custody. The Marshall's agreed to his plan. And left to begin their preparations for the handoff and Steve returned to the suite.

Closing the door to the suite he started to say something to Marta but stopped in mid sentence when he saw that she was asleep on the sofa. He was glad to see that she was sleeping. She'd had a hell of a day and was unquestionably exhausted. Carefully he took the coffee cup from her hands and placed it on the coffee table.

In the bedroom he turned down the bedcovers and returned to the sleeping woman. He didn't want to wake her. He gently slid his arms under her and made sure her head was cradled against his shoulder, and effortlessly picked her up off the sofa and carried her to the bedroom. With the same gentle effort he laid her down on the bed, slowly lowering her head down to the pillow. He pulled the covers over her and brushed away strands of hair from her face and quietly wished her sweet dreams. After closing the bedroom door he walked out onto the lanai and watched as the afternoon sun make it's way to the horizon creating another fabulous sunset.

Steve couldn't help but think about Marta. He felt it would be in her best interest to return to Las Vegas and testify. But it was her decision. Her life. And she would have to live with that decision for the rest of her life. He only hoped she would decide to testify.

***

Marta had only been sleeping for a couple of hours when the nightmare recurred. The frightening images now included the shooting at the phone booth, ran their course. Letting out a low scream she awoke to the dark room.

Steve had been doing paperwork in the sitting area of the suite when he heard her scream. He quickly entered the bedroom and found Marta with her face in the sheets as she was losing the battle to keep from crying. Not again she sighed as she was getting upset at the idea that the dream would never go away. Steve sat down next to her and asked if it was the same dream she'd had before. She slowly nodded her head.

"I want the dreams to go away Mr. McGarrett." She said with tears in her eyes.

"I know you are. Maybe once this is over and with time they might go away."

"Yeah," She replied, as she lay back down, "maybe, maybe not."

Steve brought the covers back up over her and wished her a goodnight. He got up to leave but before he closed the door he glanced back at her, only to see that she was asleep again.

***

It was nearly noon the next day when Marta awoke. What felt like a migraine headache throbbed in her head. Rubbing her eyes she squinted at the sunshine that poured in through the window. When she realized that she was in bed, she curiously lifted and looked at the sheets. Vaguely she remembered that she was on the sofa earlier. But the pain in her head convinced her not to pursue the answer. With a groan she threw back the sheets and staggered to the bathroom to take a shower. She stopped at the mirror and looked at herself. She saw a face that was drawn and her eyes were still red and puffy. Groaning she felt like she had a hangover but without the pleasure of having gotten drunk the night before. After showering she dressed and emerged from the bedroom only to be startled to see a police officer in the sitting room.

"Where's Mr. McGarrett?" She asked.

"He had to leave." The officer replied. "He should be back in a few hours. Is there anything I can get for you?"

"What time is it?" She asked.

"Nearly noon." He replied after looking at his watch.

"Noon?" She groaned, "Oh brother." Making her way out to the lanai. "I could start with a boatload of aspirin. I've got a killer headache."

"I'll call room service and have them send some. Anything to eat?"

"Some fruit will do, some juice and a pot of coffee."

"Coming right up." The officer replied enthusiastically as he picked up the phone and dialed room service. "They've got a great blended juice at this hotel, it might help that headache."

Marta leaned over the rail and took a deep breath as she took in the view from the 20^th floor suite. How fantastic it was. The expansiveness of the Pacific Ocean was a breathtaking sight and it couldn't be a more beautiful blue. She closed her eyes as the sunshine warmed her face and the cool breeze that accompanied it.

Her thoughts went back to the previous night and what McGarrett said about the witness protection program. A new start wouldn't be too bad, she thought. A new name, new history, but that meant leaving everything and everyone she has ever known behind. Which was a difficult prospect. And relying on the discretion of others to ensure her safety, again. That part of it she wasn't comfortable with. Look what happened the last time, she nearly died. A shiver went through her body and she felt like running as far away from this situation as possible because she could take care of herself. But that wouldn't resolve the bigger picture.

Poor Maxwell, she thought, he thought could do it himself too. And look what it got him, a plot of ground in his hometown cemetery. Well, she mused he always wanted to own real estate, and finally did, sort of. But McGarrett was right. Lou Sanders can't continue to destroy people's lives like this. He has be in jail where he can't harm anybody else. She wondered why Steve McGarrett wasn't he involved from the beginning? He seemed to be very efficient at his job. Her thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of the food as the officer brought the tray onto the lanai containing a continental breakfast. With a carafe of juice and a pot of coffee. At the corner of the tray was a small bottle of aspirin.

***

When McGarrett returned to the suite he heard voices coming from the lanai. Marta was relaxing on a chaise chatting with the officer. She was nibbling on what was left the fruit and sipping the fresh pineapple and orange juice blend. Her back was to the doorway so she didn't notice him as he casually leaned against the doorframe and listened. He couldn't help but smile at what he saw. Compared to a couple of weeks ago this woman was lying in a hospital near death. Her physical recovery was remarkable he thought. But what of her emotional recovery?

The officer happened to glance up toward the door and saw the Five-O chief standing there. The officer began to stand and excuse himself from the table, he informed Marta that McGarrett was back and pointed to the doorway.

Marta turned around to see McGarrett as he started to walk toward the table. And watched him as he sat down in the vacated chair.

"How do you feel this morning?" He asked.

"Wishing I could substantiate this headache by saying I had a good time last night." She answered as she took a sip of juice. "Other than that I think I'm doing okay."

"Good, glad to hear that." He replied smiling at her comment. "Except for the headache of course."

"Mr. McGarrett," She smiled faintly and stared into her glass a little embarrassed. "I want to thank you for what you did yesterday, I guess I needed that."

"I was glad I was able to help." He replied as he poured himself some coffee and took a sip.

"I must admit that I had been thinking about running away. But what you said last night made me realize that it wouldn't be right if I didn't finish what I've started. Not only for those officers who were killed but for Bonnie as well as myself."

"I'm glad to hear that." Steve said as he smiled at Marta and she put the glass down. "Have you given the Witness Protection Program any more thought?"

Marta settled back into her chair and held the glass on her lap and shrugged. "The jury is still out on that one. I don't know, guess I could wait to see what happens if Lou Sanders gets convicted."

"Oh he'll be convicted all right." Steve said assuredly, "With the case the DA has against him and your testimony, he hasn't got a chance."

Marta half smiled back at the Five-O chief, and unconsciously rubbed her shoulder near her wound with her hand. She still had her doubts.

"I've been on the phone this morning with the Las Vegas District Attorney, and they want to talk to you before the trial which starts the day after tomorrow." Steve said changing the subject. "Arrangements have been made for you to be on the eleven o'clock flight tomorrow for the mainland."

Marta frowned and got up from her chair and walked over to the rail. She gripped it tightly as she gazed out over the ocean toward the horizon. She had begun to wonder if this day would ever come, and now it's finally here. The thought of returning to face Lou Sanders in the courtroom was distressing.

Steve joined her at the rail and leaned his tall frame on his elbow. He took notice of the grip she had on the rail and thought that she still must have anxieties about her testimony. "Is there anything I can do?"

Marta looked over at the Five-O chief and saw that he had moved next to her. She had seen the same compassionate expression and genuine concern on this man's face before from her hospital bed.

She weakly smiled at him. "No, there isn't." She replied slowly, "Thanks for offering Mr. McGarrett, but I think I'll go lie down. All of a sudden I feel tired. If you'll excuse me." She turned and left the Five-O chief and walked back inside the suite. He watched her as she entered the bedroom and closed the door.

Poor kid, Steve thought. She could use a pleasant memory to take with her because this would be her last night in the islands, and she can't leave with only bad memories. Confident with his decision he walked off the lanai and picked up the phone and requested to be connected to the hotel restaurant. And made reservations for two for dinner. Replacing the receiver he walked over the bedroom door and knocked. After a moment he heard Marta say. 'Come in.' He entered the room and found her curled up on the bed holding a pillow close to her body. Her face showed evidence that she had been crying.

"Are you worried about the trial?" He inquired as he sat down on the bed next to her.

Staring at the pillow she stifled a sniffle and said. "I've waited for this day for months. I was ready to point my finger at that rat in a courtroom and accuse him of killing my best friend. Now that that day is here, and I'm not sure I can do it now." She looked at McGarrett, "That sounds silly, doesn't it?"

Steve smiled and said. "No, it doesn't sound silly at all. It sounds quite honest."

"I thought this protective custody thing would be a walk in the park." She said as she ran her hand through her hair. "But I was so wrong. I had no idea Lou Sanders would go this far to save his own skin by trying to have me killed."

"Marti," Steve began, "I want to tell you something. From the first day I met you, I've formed a hypothesis about you. Do you want to hear it?"

Marta turned her head and looked at the Five-O chief. "What." She replied with a skeptical eye.

"That day I met Marta Michelson. I saw a woman who had such inner strength that nothing was going to get in her way or stop her from doing the right thing. Since then she has been shot at and nearly killed, and yet she has persevered. And has overcome everything that has been thrown at her. And I believe she will endure, as long as it takes."

"Some hypothesis." She replied. "I not sure if I believe that."

"It's true. And you should believe it, too."

She feigned a smile as she looked at the Five-O chief.

"Sure, now get some rest." He said with a small grin. "I've made dinner reservations for six and I expect my date to be ready."

Marta eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. "Dinner reservations? Date?"

"I thought that you should have at least one pleasant evening to counter everything else, don't you agree?"

"Well----yeah----sure----I guess so." She stumbled over her words not quite sure of what she just heard.

"Good." He said as he stood to leave the room. "I will come back then and pick you up." He looked back at her and her face still showed a stunned expression combined with surprise of the dinner invitation. With a grin he turned and left.

***

To Marta's surprise, the restaurant turned out to be the best one in the hotel. Their dinner conversation covered everything from Marta's future aspirations to how Steve got involved in police work and everything in between. After a leisurely dinner they left the restaurant a couple of hours later when Marta expressed a desire to take a walk on the beach. Steve obliged and extended his arm. She soaked up the evening atmosphere as they strolled along Waikiki Beach. A half-moon hung in the clear night sky accented by the stars that sparkled brightly above. The beat of native drums could be heard from the floorshows at the nearby hotels that added to the atmosphere.

Marta's mind drifted aimlessly not necessarily on any one thing. But wished the night would never end. She noticed that this walk was nicer than the one the previous day. Their idle conversation continued as they strolled along until returning to the hotel where Steve escorted her back up to the suite.

"Steve, thank you for a lovely evening." Marta said. "I'll remember it for a long time."

"The dinner companion was just as lovely." Steve replied as he looked pleasantly at the woman.

"Yeah?" Marta smiled and replied. "Are all cops as insightful as you, or are you just special?"

"I'd like to think so." Steve replied as Marta's smile lit up her face. He had never seen her smile before and was pleasantly surprised. "That's the first time I've seen you smile. It's very nice."

Somewhat embarrassed by his comment her smile faded as she dropped her purse on the sofa. "I really haven't had a reason to before, because of everything --- you know."

"From now on things will get better, once the trial is over and you get on with your life." Steve assured "You'll find lots to smile about."

"From your lips to God's ears, I certainly hope so." Marta sighed. "I could sure use it."

Steve glanced at his watch and noticed how late the hour was. He walked over to where she was stood. "It's nearly midnight and you need to get some rest. You have a plane to catch in the morning."

Marta looked at the Five-O chief with a pout. "Oh, yeah, I almost forgot about that."

"I had a great time tonight." He said as he caressed her face with his hands and softly kissed her on the lips. "Goodnight, pretty lady. I'll pick you up morning to take you to the airport." As Steve left a police officer entered the suite for her protection.

Marta watched as Steve left. She still felt his kiss as it lingered on her lips. Her expression softened as she thought about how greatly flattered she was that he kissed her. She walked out onto the lanai and looked out at the lights of Honolulu. What a beautiful sight she thought. She'd miss this place despite of everything that has happened.

Her thoughts drifted to Steve McGarrett, the head of Hawaii Five-O. When she first met him, she thought he would be another cold and lifeless cop, she had met such a variety since this all started. The Las Vegas PD guys were okay, they did what they could after Bonnie's death, but lacked in the compassion department. Then there's the FBI guys, they did their jobs, probably just waiting for retirement and didn't care much about the feelings of the people they dealt with. Then there was Paul Maxwell, he cared, and look where it got him. She sighed despondently as she remembered the man who gave his life for hers. But McGarrett, this one was different, he cares, a lot, about everything. She thought, you don't find cops like that much anymore. She remembered all the times he was there when she needed someone to talk to. All the encouraging and positive things he said. And annoyingly insightful, too. She began to smile as she concluded her thoughts 'all that wrapped up in a class act.'

***

The next morning came quickly as McGarrett arrived to take Marta to the airport. The hotel porter carried the suitcases down and placed them in the trunk of his car. She sat quietly in the passenger seat during the trip out to the airport. As Steve approached the curb she saw Danny standing there holding a lei in his hands. She recognized the big Hawaiian man standing next to him but cursed herself when couldn't remember his name. She was glad to see Danny since she hadn't seen him at all since he left the hospital ahead of her. She was anxious to see him.

Just as Steve stopped the car she opened the car door and bolted out and rushed over and hugged him so that she almost knocked the man over. He was equally glad to see her and returned the hug. He placed the lei around her shoulders and gave her the traditional kiss on both cheeks. She lifted the floral necklace and breathed in the sweet smell of the flowers.

"Oh Danny, it's beautiful, thank you." She gushed and gave him a quick kiss on the lips and hugged him again. "How are you?" She asked as she looked at him.

"I'm fine, Marti. And you look great." He replied.

"I like the new look." She said referring to the short haircut. It was trimmed very short to even out what the hospital had shorn off to stitch up his wound.

Steve unlocked the trunk for the skycap and walked over to the group. "Kono, what's Danno doing here? He's supposed to be home resting." He said jokingly.

"Sorry Boss," Kono answered with a smile, "He insisted, and I couldn't talk him out of it."

"How do you feel Danno?" Steve asked his young friend.

"Still have a headache Steve, but feeling much better."

"Good to hear it Danno."

"Danny I want to thank you for everything you did." Marta said.

"Anytime." Danny replied with a smile.

Marta smiled and hugged him again.

"We need to go Marti." Steve interrupted. "Your flight leaves in 45 minutes."

Marta waved goodbye to Danny and Kono and left with Steve for the gate. Along the way he bought a lei and placed it on top of the one that Danny had given her earlier, and kissed her on both cheeks, too. Once outside they walked toward the gate.

"Steve, last night you told me your hypothesis of me."

"I remember."

"Well, I have one for you."

"You do?"

Stopping the top of the stairs that went down to the tarmac where the airliner waited, Marta turned and looked at the Five-O chief. "I've met several kinds of cops over the last couple of months. And I've had the opportunity to watch you. What I see is a man who's a no nonsense cop. Who also has a kind heart and cares a lot for people. And when necessary, would go out of his way to help in any way he could."

Steve smiled at then enlightening statement. "Now, I wouldn't want that get around, it'll ruin my reputation." He replied with a grin.

"Don't worry I won't say anything to anybody if that's what you're worried about." She replied with a smile. "And it’s all wrapped up in a class act."

"A class act, huh? No one's ever said that to me before. Marti, thank you. I'll remember that."

"Then you need to get out more." Marta jokingly replied with a smile.

Out of the corner of Marta's eye she saw two men approaching which made her smile fade and catch her breath. She pointed them out to Steve as the two men continued to approach. She saw that they were suited and wearing sunglasses. This frightened her enough that she moved behind the Five-O chief as he turned to greet the U. S. Marshall's. Steve introduced Marta the men and informed her that he was expecting them. After he shook hands with them, Marta hesitantly said 'hi.' Then excused herself and said that she wanted to speak to McGarrett alone for a moment.

Taking a few steps away from the Marshall's Marta didn't have to say a word. Steve knew exactly what was on her mind. "I know what you're going to say, Marti. I assure you that I had personally checked those men out and you have nothing to worry about."

Marta uneasily accepted his assurances.

The last boarding call for her flight was announced over the airport PA system. Marta asked the Marshall's if they wouldn't mind going ahead and she would catch up in a moment. The Marshall's agreed but went only to the bottom of the first flight of stairs and waited but kept her in sight.

Marta turned to Steve as he grasped her hands. "Thank you seems a too shallow a word for everything you've done for me." She said sincerely as she looked at the Five-O chief with his good looks and blue eyes. "You've saved my life, twice, literally." She said sincerely. "I'm not going to forget that, or you, but thank you."

"Just take care of yourself, pretty girl." He said warmly as he brushed her hair away from her face from the breeze so he could see her face.

"I wish I could keep in touch." She said as she looked into his eyes. "But I don't know what will happen after the trial."

"Tell you what, on your next vacation try Hawaii, I'll be here." He offered with a small grin.

She had been able to control her urge to cry so far but now it was began to tear at her emotions because she had come to want to stay longer and get to know this most intriguing man. And what he just said made it worse. But she knew it was not to be. It took all she had not to burst into tears. And crying was the last thing she wanted to do right now. She smiled against her tears and threw her arms around the Five-O chief and hugged him tightly for several moments. She then caressed his face with her hands and kissed him lightly on his lips. He returned the kiss and they embraced. With this kiss Marta experienced that same moment as the night before. Which she knew would this is all it would ever be, just a moment. Slowly she pushed herself away from the Five-O chief and backed away and whispered 'bye' as she waved a small wave and looked at him for the last time before she descended the stairs to the waiting Marshall's.

The trio disappeared from Steve's sight until they approached the base of the stairs to the airliner. Before entering the jet Marta turned back toward where the Five-O chief was standing and waved to him.

As he waved back he wondered if he would ever see her again. She was an incredible woman he thought, and had such courage. Steve remained on the walkway as he watched her flight take off, then returned to his car and drove back to his office.

***

Five months later, Steve walked into the office just as he has done every morning. Jenny handed him the morning mail, and in the stack was a large bulky envelope. He eyed it curiously until he saw that the return address was the Las Vegas District Attorney's office. He opened it. Inside was a copy of the Las Vegas Sun newspaper. When he saw the headlines he called Danny, Kono and Chin into his office. When all of the detectives were assembled in front of his desk, he announced.

"I've got something to show you." And he held up the newspaper so they could read the headlines. "LOCAL BUSINESSMAN GUILTY OF RACKETEERING" the smaller print underneath read 'Former Employee Gives Key Testimony' "Marti did it." He said with a smile. All the detectives were in agreement and smiled too. Before he put the section down a folded piece of paper fell out onto the desk. He picked it up and unfolded it. He saw that it was a letter. "It's from Marti."

"What does she say?" Danny asked and Chin and Kono also wanted to know what the letter said.

Steve accommodated his staff and read the letter aloud:

"Dear Steve,

Just wanted to send a note to let you know that everything did work out. Just like you said it would. I was on stand for over a week. I was scared but optimistic at the same time. And with Sanders giving me the ugliest looks the entire time, which made it worse. But knowing that he was going to prison gave me the strength not to let him intimidate me.

As you can read in the enclosed newspaper article, Sanders didn't take the conviction well. Furious doesn’t even come close. So the question of whether or not to join the witness protection program was answered. I'm not exactly enthusiastic about the idea but I’ll give it a try. They haven't told me where I’ll be going yet. I guess they'll surprise me, and I hate surprises most of

the time. If they put me in some two-horse town in the mid-west I'm outta there! I'm a big city

girl, and would be bored out of my mind. I just might run back to Hawaii and show up on your doorstep. Or would you know of some deserted island or mountaintop where I could hang out for

a while? (Just kidding)

I want to thank you again for all you did. I owe you my life, literally. I miss Hawaii terribly already. Although my stay wasn't under the best of circumstances, I think I was fortunate to have had the opportunity to get to know some great people. Say hi to everyone for me and I hope to return to your beautiful state someday.

Take care.

Love, Marti

P.S. Has Danny's hair grown back to its cute curls yet?"

The room was ominously quiet as Steve finished and laid the letter down on his desk and thought about Marta and the time he spent with her. Some of it pleasant, and some not so pleasant, but overall it was a pleasure that he had known her. Looking at his team, he saw that they were all wore affectionate expressions on their faces too. And Danny? He was mildly blushing.