Sabrina was late.

Kono, Chin and Danny were talking strategy at how to pressure Keanu Liwai in telling them whether he’s also contracted Weiss and Reeves to kill his mother—and what favor he promised them, while Steve kept vigil on the door to the main office, waiting for Sabrina to show up.

She hasn’t called, she hasn’t texted, she hasn’t e-mailed, and it wasn’t like her to be late without giving notice. Sure, people change, but she couldn’t have changed so much in the past five years. He started contemplating whether to call the hospital or the morgue first, when she marched into the office.

There was no other expression that would fit, but march. There was a militant gleam in her eyes, her shoulders were tense, her chin was defiantly up...And she marched.

“Sorry, I’m late. Got held up on the phone.”

She didn’t offer anything more than that, so the phone wasn’t about the two cases she was working with them.

Reena went into Steve’s office, poked around her computer to gain some semblance of control after the news she’s just received. Her old colleague at NSA had come through with some disturbing news as to the ‘mission that changed my life’, as she so lovingly—notice the sarcasm—called it. It appeared Marc had been right in theorizing that some things might have been buried in the aftermath. Wo Fat had been a player in that LCM a.k.a. life-changing mission five years ago. But someone had gone to great lengths to hide his involvement. Before and after. But who?

She didn’t have to ask why. Money and power. It was always about that. So her newest investigation within the already open one would be to determine whether her LCM and governor Jameson had anything in common. Beside Wo Fat.

But now was not the time to dwell on it. She’d had plenty of time afterward. She put her computer in password-protected sleep mode and joined the others in the main office.

“What do we have?” she asked, avoiding Steve’s eyes. If he was good at something, it was at asking questions she had no intention of answering.

“Peter Weiss and Albert Reeves are part of an, according to IA, criminal society made solely of ex-cops,” Chin supplied.

“Dirty cops, I presume,” she responded.

“Bingo. They all work for Frank Delano.”

Kono sucked in a breath. “I heard about him.”

“Who hasn’t?” Danny said. “They don’t make them as dirty as Delano.”

Chin accessed the HPD database. “Ethics violation, excessive use of force, police brutality, extortion, planting of evidence, illegal appropriation of evidence...You name it, he’s done it.”

“And now he’s running his own little ex-cop club,” Danny finished.

“Hundred percent referral,” Chin continued. “You don’t find them. If you need something done, they find you.”

“Are they in drug trade?” Reena asked.

“Yes.”

“Anthony Roth and a difference in shipping logs. Morphine that has so conveniently fallen off the back of a truck.” Reena drummed her fingers on the comp table. “They’re either selling it pure or making heroine. I’d go with pure morphine, because acetyl chloride or acetic anhydride are rather tough to come by if you don’t happen to live on the Golden Crescent or the Golden Triangle. And obtaining it would’ve raised a lot of flags.” She bit her lower lip, thought. “Still, I’ll call a buddy at DEA. If they don’t already know about it, that is.”

“Is there an agency where you don’t have a buddy, friend, or colleague?” Danny asked.

“No.” She drummed her fingers some more. “Onto Liwai. Though his company is a subsidiary of Firewall, Inc. they’re not really involved in any classified programs.”

“You checked that with another buddy?”

Reena ignored Danny’s question. “Chin, is the HPD planning any raids in the near future?”

He arched an eyebrow. “Yes. With Hesse dead there’s been quite a lot of activity between gun-dealers. Power-plays, scrabbling to get on top. HPD’s planning to use that to its advantage.”

“When?”

“This afternoon.”

She nodded. “Okay, could you tell them to tag the ammo with tracking devices?”

“Why?”

“Because that’s probably Liwai’s form of payment. Hacking into HPD database to gather information on upcoming raids. After it’s done, Delano and his cronies simply waltz in, grab the booty, and waltz back out.” She smiled coldly. “If you can’t find them, you follow them.”

He looked at her for a few minutes, then pulled his phone out of his pocket.

“Oh, and Chin, tell them to keep it off the record.”

“Are you sure about this?” Danny asked.

“What else is there that he could do for them beside hacking? But, to be on the safe side, we could always ask him.”

“Just yesterday you said he’s used to being interrogated and he won’t talk.”

She nodded toward Steve. “That’s where he comes in.”




Five-0 Headquarters, Saturday night

It had all gone as clockwork. Steve had gotten a confession out of Keanu Liwai with apparent ease. He had simply used his ninja powers of persuasion, as Danny had later said. The combination of his icy glare, the bulging biceps brought to attention by his signature pose, and the twenty-seven-minute-long silent treatment in the barren interrogation room, and Liwai had cracked.

He’d been more than happy to tell them everything, when Danny had come to the rescue in his ‘good cop’ role. About his mother’s refusal to sell her bookstore and get the large sum he desperately needed to get his little company out of trouble, about the two men that had approached him in front of his home, offering their services in exchange for a favor in the form of obtaining certain intel from the HPD database, proving Sabrina’s theory.

She’s been feeling a little giddy ever since. She had exceeded her own expectations. And soon, she’d get some much needed action. Sure, kicking the sand bag around her basement was good for releasing tension, making the head go blank, but nothing beat real-live action, the chase, leading with her weapon...

She mentally berated herself, took a deep breath, and once more cleared her mind, finding her center.

“Is she meditating?” Danny asked.

Steve looked up from his disassembled gun, followed Danny’s gaze to his office, where Sabrina sat cross-legged on the floor, her eyes closed. “It appears she is.”

“Sheesh, you sure found a match, didn’t you?”

“Danny.”

“What?”

“Don’t.”

“Right.” He sighed, looked at the monitor where the GPS signal was showing the seized ammo was still where it was supposed to be. “What’s taking these guys so long? I never considered stakeouts to be boring, but with Kono and Chin on a family reunion, you being all broody and her meditating...” He rolled his eyes. “I’m bored.”

“Maybe you could play Ms. Pacman.”

“I must say I like this new you better than Mr. Scowly.”

“You play Ms. Pacman?”

Danny turned and grinned at Sabrina. “Sure.”

“Ever got to the double pretzel level?”

He smirked down at Steve. “I have this strange feeling of déjà-vu.” He turned back to Sabrina. “Triple Banana, girl.”

After a beat, she said, “Liar.”

Danny’s jaw dropped open and Steve laughed.

“What?” She looked from one to the other. “What did I say?”

Before either of them could answer, the GPS tracker started beeping.

Steve reassembled his gun in under a minute, double checked it, then called in for back-up, while watching Sabrina check her own gun, stuff extra mags in her cargo pants, and stick a knife in her boot. He smiled. There was nothing sexier than a woman who knew how to be prepared.

“Ready?” he asked when Danny and Sabrina joined him at the comp table.

They nodded.

“Okay, let’s go get them.”