A
KEEP THE DRAGON IF YOU CAN
By
G M
Napoleon Solo and Illya
Kuryakin no longer work for UNCLE -- they are independent agents. Steve McGarrett and Dan Williams are retired from
*****
The Man From UNCLE series ran from 1964 -1968. Starring Robert Vaughn as Napoleon Solo, and David McCallum as Illya Kuryakin, it set the pace for slick, fun, hip, intrigue/drama for television spies. Using futuristic technology, The United Network Command for Law and Enforcement, an international crime-fighting organization, utilized James Bond-like agents in their quest for world justice. Leo G. Carroll played their irascible leader, Alexander Waverly. Napoleon and Illya, the two highest ranking Enforcement agents, globe-hopped to exotic locales to romance a new girl of the week and usually battle their arch-enemies, THRUSH (Technological Hierarchy For The Removal Of Undesirables And The Subjugation Of Humanity). A reunion movie, The Return Of The Man From UNCLE, The Fifteen Years Later Affair, aired on CBS in 1983, with Patrick Macnee as the leader of the UNCLE organization.
Because the characters are contemporaries,
and with Intelligence backgrounds linking Napoleon and McGarrett, the
possibilities for encounters came naturally. The Man From UNCLE is owned by
TNT,
February 1981
As the leader of
Muttering incoherent curses, Steve sat back in his chair and squinted a malevolent glare at his latest foe. More than any criminal he had ever fought, this monster was the worst. Alone -- abandoned by his partner and by his secretary -- he faced off with this new and formidable enemy. Whose idea was it anyway to run their business on a computer?
Taking his eyes off the maliciously evil machine he glanced at the clock. Danno should be back from lunch any minute. Should. Was he eating alone? Steve bet not. Frequently he and Williams went to the Sizzler in the nearby Koko Marina shopping center for lunch. Michel's or Maile's were common alternates. Today, Steve opted for a business lunch with a potential client from Waimanalo. As soon as he'd returned Danno had whisked out, saying something about owing someone a lunch. A female someone no doubt.
Mrs. Kenau, their faithful secretary, had taken half a day off to tend a family emergency. Her daughter-in-law fell and broke her ankle and Mrs. Kenau had to shepherd the young woman. Normally a reliable, steady woman (former neighbor of Steve's from his Ala Wai apartment, she was pleasant, efficient, and no longer needed to tend her grandchildren after school), Steve grudgingly acquiesced to her crisis. The dilemma briefly prompted him to consider employing a younger, less encumbered secretary for AIKANE SECURITY CONSULTANTS, but not too young or too pretty or Danno would never get any work done.
Private enterprise certainly proved different than being the head of Five-0. Here, Steve frequently answered the phone, fielded inane questions, turned away solicitors and today, did hand-to-hand combat with a computer. Now in his early fifties, the tall, fit former cop was a commanding presence -- his blue eyes sharp, his strong chin and dark hair distinctive and distinguishing. A formidable opponent on any turf, now he was determined to win this battle no matter what the odds. McGarrett squared off against his adversary and once more attacked the keyboard.
Quickly frustrated, he leaned back in his chair and gazed out the window, sighing at the picture of breathtaking beauty. Dark storm clouds drew a misty curtain over the far horizon. Rain and wind promised a late afternoon arrival, but for now the day was tropically warm and sunny.
On the makai/Ewa/second floor corner
of a set of six commercial suites, their back lanai overlooked
With a less contented sigh, Steve turned back to his nemesis, the personal computer Danno insisted he master, and stared at the screen saver daring him to engage in battle.
"Oh how the mighty have fallen."
McGarrett started, surprised at the close, familiar voice. He had not heard anyone enter the office. Looking around he was delighted to see Napoleon Solo and Illya Kuryakin watching him with bemusement.
"Napoleon! Illya! Your timely rescue only enhances your reputations."
Kuryakin, a slight, blond Russian nodded toward the computer. "A wily opponent to be sure. I think we arrived just in time to save its life."
Solo grinned at his partner's dry wit. "Steve definitely had murder in his eyes."
Rounding the desk Steve warmly shook their hands. "Are you visiting for business or pleasure?"
"Does it matter?" Solo's expression and tone light, his brown eyes harbored a serious undertone. "You're not the boss cop anymore, old friend. You don't really care, do you?"
Now suspicious, Steve eyed them warily. "That depends. What's going on?"
Napoleon grimaced. Kuryakin held his hand palm up to his partner and snapped his fingers. "I win. It's your delivery, Napoleon, you baited him." The Russian's smirk was as smug as his voice. To McGarrett, Illya's blue eyes twinkled as he explained. "Napoleon thought you would at least cover the amenities of offering us a cool drink or a conformable seat before nosing around about our purpose here. Although he is your old friend, I seem to know you better."
"Because you and Steve are incurably suspicious, tovarich." Solo reluctantly handed over a ten-dollar bill to his partner. "Never bet against a sly Russian, Steve." Gesturing toward some cozy chairs near the desk he suggested they get comfortable. "Nice, I must say. You and Dan know how to retire in style."
The Russian 'hrmphed'. "Retire? They could no more retire than we could. So where is your young friend?"
"A late lunch."
Smoothing his expensive linen suit, the forty-ish Solo retained the handsome elegance of his youth. Meticulous in dress and manners, the slight greying in his perfectly-in-place dark-brown hair lent distinction to his appearance. An easy grin lit the brown eyes and chiseled face with humor. "Ahh. With a beautiful young woman if I know Dan."
McGarrett snorted. "You know Danno, all right. The travel agent downstairs just happens to fit that description."
Napoleon smiled at the shared appreciation of women. "Maybe we'll see him later. For now, Steve, we'll forgo the complimentary tropical drinks because I can see you're anxious to know what mysteries we bring to your paradise."
Steve took a seat on the edge of his desk.
"Yes, what brings you two to
Illya's face grew grim, bringing a shaded soberness to the fair, blond, blue-eyed Russian. "Two words."
Solo supplied the solemn answer. "Wo Fat."
Despite the warm winter day, Steve fought down a chill racing over his skin. The name still sent him into momentary emotional upheaval. Then reason prompted that the dreaded Chinese spy, after their last encounter [Episode and fan-story -- WOE TO WO FAT** / WOE TO WO FAT: CONCLUSION***], sat behind bars in Oahu Federal Prison, and the momentary panic abated.
Steve reminded them of Wo Fat's permanent residence for the past ten months. He would have known if the spy escaped, which was highly unlikely in the maximum-security facility.
Clearly uncomfortable breaking the bad news, Solo gingerly explained. "We have information that Wo Fat is a hot commodity. His people in Red China want him back -- another internal power struggle going on there. The Americans want to keep him here."
"And my fellow countrymen want him for the information he could provide," the Russian finished.
Steve snorted in irritation, in incredulity. "I wanted him for twelve years! I finally got him and no power on earth is going to take him off this rock!" For emphasis he slammed his fist on the desk and launched to his feet, hostility lending sharpness to his pacing stride and snapping fingers. "His powerful friends haven't been able to spring him yet, and they won't, either!"
Solo winced at the passionate outburst.
"Don't kill the messenger, Steve. That's why we're here to help you. We
don't want him out any more than you do. His Nine Dragons tong has a vendetta
out for us and they are pretty ineffective without him -- or his family -- to
run things in
As a polite reminder, Illya pointed out, "There is no need to mention how much danger we are in if Wo Fat escapes."
The front door slammed. "Wo Fat escaped?" The gasped question came from a pale Dan Williams as he entered the grim conference.
Napoleon and Illya stood and shook hands with the man. Shorter and younger than the others, Dan retained much of his boyish good looks into his early forties. Stress and trauma from the last few years [TALONS OF THE DRAGON, GHOST OF THE DRAGON ***] now curbed the youthfulness and his hair was now predominately grey.
"Napoleon and Illya have disturbing news, Danno. It seems several powers want Wo Fat out of prison."
Napoleon issued a warning. "I'd say both of you have a lot to worry about should Wo Fat be freed."
When Wo Fat wanted control of the Red Chinese
government, he went to underground control of a powerful
McGarrett kept his voice even, calm,
struggling not to reveal the dread shaking his nerves. Wo Fat. Steve hadn't
visited the pudgy spy since last May, literally closing the door on the
Chinaman, then walked away from
Illya explained their suspicions to Dan. As he talked, McGarrett pondered the strange path that had lead them here to this current crisis.
Having met in the late fifties, Solo and Kuryakin were partners in the elite international intelligence agency UNITED NETWORK COMMAND FOR LAW ENFORCEMENT -- UNCLE. In the early seventies they grew disillusioned with the politics that had entered into spying and both left the organization. Almost paving the way for the same 'retirement' by McGarrett and Williams, the spies started freelancing as international intelligence gatherers. Between their skills and experience, they were formidable and made a lucrative living globe-hopping from one spy job to another.
Shaken from the shocking news about Wo Fat, Williams sank into a chair and listened to the agent's report. Considering Wo Fat's notoriety as a spy, they should have anticipated his value. Too close to the emotions of anger and hate, McGarrett and Williams had not seen the larger, international implications.
"He's in maximum security." Dan's obvious observation was proof of his dazed mental state. Nervously he fingered the bullet scar on his right temple, a souvenir from a previous encounter with Wo Fat's diabolical daughter. "Did you check on him, Steve?"
"We did that when we arrived." Illya assured them in a calm, certain tone. "He is still behind bars. And, no, do not expect an escape by hiding in a laundry basket or any such elementary ploy. His allies, his enemies, are professionals. Whoever reaches him first will extricate him by masterful means."
McGarrett's admonition was foreboding. "And we're going to be there to stop them like a wall of lava."
*****
The drive out to the federal prison was endured in mutual silence, each man trapped in painful, private recollections of Wo Fat and his legacy. McGarrett tried to push his thoughts away from the dreaded Chinese spy and shifted only as far as the ill-fated messengers, Solo and Kuryakin.
When the former spies visited the islands they seemed to bring bad news or bad experiences. The unfortunate incident when Solo, on UNCLE business, worked as a cat burglar [fan story --THE NAPOLEON OF CRIME AFFAIR***]; then there had been the nasty experience of Napoleon and Illya's return from Vietnam and the old enemy who followed them back to Honolulu. [fan-story -- Soem Wats Never End***] This time the news was worse than any other bombshell. Wo Fat free again? The thought nearly froze him with anger and dread.
As they were about to exit the car, Dan grabbed onto McGarrett's arm. "Are you sure you want me in on this, Steve?"
So keyed up with his own turbulent emotions, Steve had failed to take into account Danno's feelings on seeing Wo Fat again. The patriarch of the insidious dynasty was responsible for Williams' downfall. This was not an interview which would be easy for either of them. For the first time Steve realized Danno had self-doubts about this encounter.
"I need you in on this, Danno. Where else would I want my right hand? Come on."
Encouraged, Dan gave a nod and exited with McGarrett.
The warden was surprised to see the former Five-0 officers, but allowed them the unusual request of visiting the notorious prisoner. When Wo Fat walked into the isolation booth and sat at the interview table, only a mere few inches of glass separated McGarrett from his greatest foe. Behind a rigidly self-controlled mask, McGarrett felt his nerves crawl as the Chinese agent smugly surveyed his former victims. Steve did not look over to Williams, but felt Danno's tension fairly sparking from the younger man.
Steve swallowed hard, clearing his dry throat, forcing calm into his nerves. His palms lay flat on the cold surface of the metal table. Dan was the one to flip on the microphone connecting them to the isolation room.
"McGarrett, Williams. It's been so long." Wo Fat smiled pleasantly. "To what do I owe the condescension? From what I hear -- deplorable to indulge in gossip, I fear, but a weakness nonetheless under my confined circumstances -- you are no longer official minions of the law." His cold eyes and sharp voice hardened. "I don't have anything to say to you. Citizens." He glared at Williams with a dagger-edged hate. "Especially with the man who killed my daughter." A haughty smile snaked briefly across his face. "Mine is not a loving family, but we know how to avenge our own. Your time will come. Just seconds before your death you will know it is a gift from the Nine Dragons."
Before an irate Dan could respond, impulsive anger nearly overwhelmed McGarrett, but he held the emotions in check under an iron grip of control. The anger served to push out the previous doubts and fears, bringing him back into proper balance. Wo Fat was the one behind bars -- McGarrett put him there. The last whisperings of dread trickled away in a wash of righteous indignation.
With a motion he waved Williams to calm down. Wo Fat knew all the right buttons to push and McGarrett wouldn't give the spy the satisfaction this time. Taking a breath he slowly exhaled, catching the attention of the others and forcing them to wait for his response. It served to calm his friend and irritate his enemy. Feeling on high moral ground now, Steve felt prepared to proceed. Calmly. Controlled. He could match Wo Fat's cold facade anytime.
"Not even if we talk about your freedom?"
The quiet, even tone, the tantalizing words caught Wo Fat's attention. Inside, Steve smiled and silently thought the words: 'Gottchya.'
Wo Fat's eyes flicked between the two former detectives. Williams, as inscrutable as his colleague, merely stared at the Chinaman. This time the spy revealed the emotions -- surprise and interest.
"You intrigue me, McGarrett. Please, proceed."
Steve stared into the dark eyes; superior in the knowledge he was in control of the conversation. "As one who indulges in gossip, Wo Fat, you will be interested to know that I know what you're doing and it won't work."
Confusion instantly flickered in the dark, slanted eyes. "Gossip?"
Chiming in smoothly, Dan scoffed dismissively. "You didn't think you could keep it from us, did you?" The question, biting and rhetorical, whipped out like a lightning-strike, quickly followed by the next. "Don't think because we're retired we're not keeping tabs on you."
Just like old times, McGarrett comfortably fell into the interrogation routine with his colleague, playing the veteran Communist like a common criminal. So far they had their opponent off balance and that was the only way to trick information out of this wily enemy.
The Chinaman laughed. "You fear me." He glanced negligently from one to the other, as if they were insignificant in his universe. "My culture prizes the strength and power of the dragon. Westerners fear the dragon as a fire-breathing beast." Again he chuckled, holding McGarrett's eye contact. "You fear me."
Steve remained in complete, calm control. "Your culture also honors the tiger as a noble protector. A tiger stalks its prey until it triumphs. Who is the prey and who is the tiger here, Wo Fat?" Staring at the old foe McGarrett went for the jugular. "We know your old friends are planning to spring you, Wo Fat." A pause to gauge the affect of the bombshell. The declaration hit the target dead center. Momentarily the Chinese's eye's widened with surprise, then irritation, and then anger.
"McGarrett!" The name a curse, he spat it out in livid animosity. "Get out!"
Steve smirked. "I have a message for your friends, Wo Fat. Tell them not to bother. There's only one way you're ever leaving this prison. That's feet first."
They left the cell. As the steel bars slammed shut McGarrett paused, maximizing the dramatic impact, he smiled slightly. "By the way, Wo Fat, I was born in the year of the dragon. Think about that."
Exiting the prison, McGarrett stood in the
afternoon
Dan leaned on the car, rubbing at his right temple. Noting his friend staring blankly at the ocean, he stepped over to offer support. "You all right, Steve?"
"Yeah." Steve finally looked at him and made an effort at a brief smile. "You?"
"Yeah. It was tough." His voice filled with admiration. Warmly, he recounted his respect for McGarrett's technique, insisting his friend's interrogative skills had not diminished. "You were great. Even I didn't expect you to trap him up so quickly."
"Surprise." McGarrett had to admit he had managed the anxious interview far batter than he expected. It seemed a huge accomplishment on a personal level to triumph over not only Wo Fat's wily cunning, but also his own volcanic temper, which could have ruined the whole interrogation. A fractional grin trembled at his lips. "Wo Fat had no idea I was bluffing about his friends. His frustration at me blowing another of his schemes was just too much for him." Opening the door, he suggested, "Let's go back and see what trouble Napoleon and Illya have managed on their own."
"What's our next step?"
"Why don't you hit the streets, some of your old informants? I understand Illya has a few contacts here, too. Take him along. Napoleon and I can cover a more official channel."
Before McGarrett climbed into the car, Dan quizzically studied him over the roof. "That bit about the year of the dragon -- is that really your birth year?"
Steve winked, then smiled. "I have no idea, Danno, but it sure shook up that old Chinaman, didn't it?"
Williams laughed. "Man, I never tire of seeing the master at work."
Feeling surprisingly buoyant, McGarrett climbed into the car, ready to attack the next angle of the investigation with invigorated energy. What did they have to fear from Wo Fat? The Chinese spy had a lot of tricks up his sleeve, but he couldn't get much up on two old seasoned detectives teamed with two sharp spies.
*****
Returning to
Aloha shirts under off-white linen suits offered a compromise for fashion and business. The tropic-weight suits afforded Solo and Kuryakin the opportunity to conceal their weapons and familiar shoulder holsters, the fashion-style enabled them to blend with the tourist motif.
When in
Brushing up against a grimy wall at the corner of Nuuanu and King, Solo wiped at his linen jacket, grimacing at the mar to his clothing.
"We must prepare to act on our own is all I am pointing out."
Solo brought his attention back to the conversation with the cynical Russian. "As always," he assured smoothly.
Illya glanced at him with narrowed eyes. "You know what I mean. They are used to acting within a structured legal system, Napoleon. They will follow the rules, even when it concerns Wo Fat. Their blood is not burning with vengeance."
Stopping, Solo gestured across the street to the tattoo parlor. "Looks like Archie is open for business and without customers." Before they crossed, Solo touched Kuryakin's arm, halting him. "Let's give Steve and Dan the benefit of the doubt, hmmm?" He raised his eyebrows and offered a flash of a smile. "I think they're vengeance is hot enough."
"We have no way of knowing how stable they are after their encounters."
"You think an escape by Wo Fat will send one of them over the edge?"
"No," Illya admitted after a moment. "But the Chinese can always surprise us."
"True enough." Napoleon shrugged his shoulders under the expensive material. "That's why we're the back-up, partner. To make sure no matter what happens with Steve, we will stop Wo Fat from leaving this island." Kuryakin nodded with agreement. "Let's go talk to Archie."
Archie, never a last name given, grimaced and spun his wheel chair around when he saw the visitors. "What do you two want?"
"The usual, of course," Illya blandly countered. "We would hardly be here for a tattoo."
The disabled man, his arms covered with complex tattoo work, sneered at them. "The last time I helped you two I ended up losing one of my best customers."
Solo pushed around some equipment with the end of a pen and Archie raced over to quickly slap away his hand. "Tsk, tsk." The agent barely stepped out of the way to save his pricey shoes from being run over by the wheels. "Archie, we pay you very generously -- "
"Too generously," Illya corrected.
"Much more than you would have made from -- what's-his-name's business."
"Ki Dong was his name." Archie cruised back into a corner of the room and distrustfully surveyed the spies. "He was a useful little snitch, no reason to waste him the way you did."
Kuryakin leaned against a table close to the owner. "Mr. Dong had the bad judgement to believe he was superior to me in using a weapon. Most men who make that ill estimation end up the same way."
"Dead." Solo smiled humorlessly. "Now, shall we move on to today's business? Or shall Illya and I take our money somewhere else?"
Archie threw up his hands in irritated
surrender, admitting he would rather take their money than see it go somewhere
else. Asked about connections to the Red Chinese spy currently held in Oahu
Federal Prison, Archie gave them two names. One or both of whom could lead them
to Wo Fat's friends. The first was Wong, a local travel agent in
"That wasn't so bad, was it?" Napoleon slipped several folded bills into the man's shirt pocket. "There's a little something extra there, Archie. Use it to clean up in here, would you?"
Archie jeered at the commentary, but protectively patted his pocket to safeguard the money.
On the street the partners decided to stop for lunch at the Red Dragon, Ming's restaurant located on the same block. While there they observed nothing unusual or suspicious, but learned the owner did not frequent the restaurant, but did business out of an office by the wharves. They decided to return to Hawaii Kai and report their progress to McGarrett.
*****
After lunch, the two ex-Five-0 cops were not yet back at the security offices. Not one to waste an opportunity, Illya suggested they drop in at the travel agency on the first floor of the building. Kelly Hatsuyuki, the pretty owner, welcomed them and asked how she could help. Solo mentioned Williams' name and the young woman because much friendlier. Knowing there was no time to dawdle, Napoleon asked her out to dinner for Chinese. She declined, confessing she never dated strangers, only friends. Napoleon promised to alter their relationship over the next few days and asked if she would have dinner with him on the weekend.
"By then we'll be very good friends."
Illya reminded that they were there on
business, but neither seemed to hear him. Forging ahead, he asked what Kelly
knew about the business rival Wong. She confessed hardly knowing the man, but
his reputation was solid. He focused mostly on business to the
"Now about that date?" Solo prompted.
Her smile was impish. "I'll have to ask Dan for your references."
"Somehow I doubt that will happen," Illya predicted. "But we can ask. He and Steve just arrived."
Solo promised to drop in again and he and Illya followed McGarrett and Williams up to the Aikane Security office. Dan suspiciously asked what they were doing at the travel agency.
"Planning a trip, of course."
Solo's
"Napoleon and I have come up with two promising leads to Chinese sympathizers. They are local businessmen. Perhaps we should split with each of you and cover double the ground."
McGarrett chose the restaurateur Lo Ming as the target for Solo and his queries since he was well acquainted with Ming. Dan and Illya were assigned the travel agency, with instructions to investigate from afar, preferably using contacts instead of the direct approach. Whoever was the Wo Fat sympathizer, Steve didn't want to spook them just yet.
Napoleon volunteered to investigate the travel bureau by working other agents -- such as Kelly Hatsuyuki -- but McGarrett steered him away from that. He didn't want Solo getting too interested in a woman who was a close family friend.
"Can we trust you two with Wong?" Solo asked his partner. "Or will we have to come rescue you from the twelve course luncheon special?"
Steve ignored the levity, warning the two ex-UNCLE agents that they were to use conventional methods first -- -- no renegade tactics. These men were respected citizens who may not have any connection to Wo Fat.
Reluctantly Napoleon and Illya agreed, but it was obvious they thought the restrictions a waste of time, much too safe, and no fun at all.
*****
Following retirement from Five-0, Steve was
forced to purchase his own automobile after years of using the state's
vehicles. His choice was similar to what he was used to -- a white Lincoln
Continental with plenty of room and luxuries. The mild weather of
"What makes you think your NI pal will talk to us?"
Steve could have interpreted the query, casual and easy, as a challenge to his territorial sovereignty. Instead, he took it as the natural skepticism of his old friend.
"Because he's an old salt who's unimpressed with titles. Like 'head of Five-0', or 'agent for UNCLE' or things like that. He'll give us whatever he has."
Solo's obvious suspicion surfaced. "Must be a good friend."
McGarrett glanced at the former agent.
"An old colleague who's on the same side. You know, Napoleon, you are so
suspicious."
"It's kept me and my partner alive this
long."
"Not everyone has a price, or a catch. Some people still like the good guys and are willing to help us."
Napoleon ran a hand through his thick, dark hair. "Are we the good guys?"
McGarrett shook his head. "They really did a number on you at UNCLE, didn't they? You've never been a very trusting person, but you were never as cynical as this."
Solo shrugged, glancing out the window to
avoid eye contact with his fellow ex-Naval Intelligence operative. So many
things had changed -- for both of them -- in the twenty-odd years since
A typically bright, winter day for
Before McGarrett and Solo reached the small front porch, a tall, muscled man with short-cropped white hair and a tanned, wrinkled visage emerged from the creaky building. A beaming smile showing crooked teeth and a lot of affection softening the startling figure.
"Steve, good to see you again." Wearing the suntan uniform of a captain, the man's mild voice contradicted his sea-weathered looks. His curious, easy grey eyes rested on Napoleon. "You brought a visitor."
"Captain Sam Rohr, Napoleon Solo."
The officer shook hands with the spy, then turned his attention back to his old shipmate. "So, what help can I be for you, Steve?"
McGarrett indicated an asphalt path to a nearby dock. The others feel into step with the former detective. Briefly, he explained the situation with Wo Fat and the rumors of an escape attempt. Confidentially, and off the record, he asked his old Naval Intelligence colleague to share any unclassified information he might have on the Chinese.
"My usual sources are unable to
ascertain any more details, Sam. I was hoping you could help. The
Rohr glanced at Solo, then back at McGarrett.
With a nod Steve confirmed the silent but wary concern. "Yes, Napoleon is one of my usual resources. He's come to a dead-end about the details."
Solo gave a shrug. "Informants aren't what they used to be."
Without further question Rohr accepted the
endorsement. "The only remotely interesting thing that might concern Wo
Fat is a little tidbit I picked up last week from a contact in
"Yes." McGarrett automatically clenched his teeth at the memory of his last encounter with the deadly tong. [episode -- NINE DRAGONS**]
"I've already checked them out,"
Napoleon dismissed. "My partner and I were in
"Not the Russians?" Steve asked, recalling Illya's comment that the Soviets would like to siphon out some of Wo Fat's secrets.
Solo shook his head. "As a seasoned gambler, I'd put my money on the Chinese."
Rohr agreed. "General Ji Tai is a big
gun in
Eager now at the strong scent of a trail,
McGarrett urged Rohr to give them any possible contacts Tai might have in
Steve left a message with Williams' answering service explaining their progress. Pleased to have corroboration of the two leads, he and Napoleon discussed their next move.
*****
Cultivating informants was a talent Dan
Williams refined early in his career as a cop. Previous to that career, even,
if truth were told. As a kid he earned money on
Typical of the Russian's mysterious nature, Kuryakin had drifted away on his own for part of the afternoon. Dan pursued his own leads near the waterfront. Somehow Illya tracked him down and they decided to lunch at Nick's. Choosing a booth in a corner, they ordered beers, grilled opakapaka with the trimmings, and then discussed the case briefly. After the food arrived they fell into a comfortable silence
Kuryakin concentrated on his meal until satisfied it was of sufficient quality and quantity, then started a conversation. "I see you no longer carry a weapon."
Dan smiled slightly at the unsubtle observation. Kuryakin never wasted time on nonessentials. He sobered quickly when explaining. "No, not since the last time I came up against one of Wo Fat's clan."
The Russian nodded, aware of the story behind
Jin Wu's visits to the
Flinching at the tone as well as the ominous empathy, Williams had also visited that dank shadow in the soul where only guilt and pain remained under the emotional scar tissue. "I'm sure you know about that from your old business. And, from what I've seen that hasn't changed much."
A brief ghost of a smile flittered on Illya's lips. "Some change. No longer working for a -- corporation -- has its advantages. Napoleon and I have no other priorities than our partnership now."
Williams could appreciate the advantages of freelancing now that he and McGarrett were out from under the auspices of the government. Still, there were dangers firmly connected with the past. Like Wo Fat.
"Some things don't change at all, do they?"
Shrugging, Illya returned to an intense concentration on his food. "Some day if ever you find me insensibly drunk I may tell you of such examples." An extended silence followed. Illya glanced up, studying his companion. "You are disturbed at carrying a weapon after nearly killing your friend and yourself. A waste of your considerable talents, Dan." Seeming to weigh some mental alternatives, he continued somberly. "It may surprise you to know I have done something similar in all-too familiar circumstances to yours. In some instances I have done worse to my friend. We have come through such crises by relying on the strength of our friendship, not the weakness of a bad experience. Especially one that is something we are not able to control."
It came as no surprise the ex-agents had encountered things at least as nasty as Wo Fat and Jin Wu before. They had survived the worst their occupation had to offer and come out triumphant. Steve and he had done the same in their own way. In his non-judgmental manner, Illya was both reassuring him of what had passed, and encouraging finding bravery enough to get through this -- maybe even conquer the residual fears left behind by Jin Wu.
During dessert the waiter brought the checks and Dan took both. Illya, with a mouth full of macadamia nut pie raised his eyebrows.
"Mahalo," Williams replied in gratitude for the pep talk. Kuryakin nodded in understanding.
At the desk Williams called in to check his messages and told Illya about the instructions to investigate Wong's travel agency. Happily, Dan related, an old snitch of his once did part-time work for this suspect agency.
In his years with Five-0, Dan had discovered
an informant that seemed a bit more dangerous and untrustworthy than most.
Shorty Lao was supposedly a refugee from
Although a native of
Williams parked the Mustang along the curb
adjacent to
"Many." Typically cryptic, the Russian
gave no information away freely -- even to allies. "Fortunately,
Vietnamese is one of them. An advantage since so many refugees have fled to
your shores."
Dan took Illya first to Shorty Lao, who spent
more time in
Atypical of the usual refugee, Lao set up a
lucrative information brokerage on the streets of
Today Dan found Shorty at one of the nicer
spots in
Watching the surfers on
Dan pushed Illya's pistol down to aim at the ground. "Too crowded, Illya. Come on."
They dashed to the Mustang parked at the curb
a few feet away. By the time Dan spun the sports car around the sedan was
almost out of sight. Racing to the nearest intersection, he skidded through in
pursuit. The powerhouse Mustang easily closed the distance, but traffic on the
back streets of
Under his breath, Illya growled. "You should have kept going!"
Irritated and frustrated, Dan retorted that if still with Five-0 he could have radioed for back up and raced through the streets to catch the criminals. "I have no right to recklessly pursue bad guys and endanger innocent lives anymore than what I already risked. I don't have a badge to back me up."
"I doubt that will be of much comfort after Wo Fat is freed."
Williams' eyes widened as he interpreted the
acrid scorn. "You think I've lost my nerve, don't you?" Without
waiting for an answer his expression soured and he itemized what he thought
Illya saw as his shortcomings. "I don't carry a gun! I might encounter
more of Wo Fat's clan who might know how to control my mind! If I can't handle
a little car chase through
Kuryakin's mask remained implacable, but his tone was compassionate. "I have not lived this long in a dangerous profession by being reckless with who I trust. If I did not trust you I would not be here."
When the light turned green Dan crossed Ala Wai and prowled the streets half-heartedly searching for the car, but knowing the shooters were long gone. "Lao won't show at the café again after this. But we still have the travel agency."
With a sigh Illya agreed. "Yes. And at least one good thing has come out of the incident."
Dan was wary. "What?"
Kuryakin's matter-of-fact reply was casual with the nonchalance of a veteran target. "We have panicked someone in our search for information. Fortunately nervous criminals react with sloppy reflexes." He extracted his communicator and by voice command opened a satellite channel to his partner.
It didn't seem like good news to Dan. They would have to be very careful from now on. Grimacing, Dan released a breath of frustration. "It also means the coconut wireless is fast. Our enemies must know our moves as soon as we do."
The sound of sirens was second nature to him and he didn't pause when the flashing lights of two blue and white HPD sedans slid into line behind him. After a moment it registered that they expected him to pull over. When a third squad car screeched up to block him from the front he had a bad feeling.
"Great."
Illya watched with interest as three HPD officers approached them, guns drawn. "Know anyone who can fix a ticket?"
*****
Lo Ming was well known in the
"We're what?" Solo was incredulous. "Steve, you're a free man! No more paper-pushing hardheads over your shoulders. No more reading rights and walking the line." He shook his head, the familiar cynicism surfacing with his wry reproach. "I just can't believe you have sunk to this level."
"We are utilizing my tax dollars and using official channels. Maybe you should try it sometime, Napoleon."
"I don't pay taxes anymore." With a sideways glance of exasperation he concluded, "And I don't think I'll bother explaining -- you wouldn't take advantage of my skills anyway."
Habitually McGarrett swung into one of the
parking slots at the front of
"Coming?" he asked crisply, stalking toward the front steps.
Without a word Solo followed the brisk pace set by his friend, never making another crack. Round the final landing to the second floor, Solo's communicator beeped. Requesting McGarrett continue, the covert agent slipped out the glass doors to the mauka lanai.
McGarrett entered the main office without a pause. The entire area had been rearranged, but Steve didn't miss a beat as he walked over to an unfamiliar receptionist and requested to speak to James Carew. The young woman asked his name and if he had an appointment. Spotting Carew just exiting the private office that used to be his, Steve bypassed the new clerk and moved to intercept the new head of Five-0.
"Kimo!"
Carew stopped, surprised at the unexpected guest. His face then revealed a series of emotions easily readable; uncertainty at McGarrett's motive for returning, guarded defense of what was now HIS territory. Wariness clouded his welcome. "Steve. Didn't expect to see you here."
Without invitation McGarrett kept moving toward the old office and closing the door behind them. Here too it was completely rearranged and redecorated. A western motif dominated and made the room darker and smaller. Strangely, one of the first things he noticed was that the lanai doors were closed on such a magnificent day.
"A reliable source has warned me that Wo Fat might escape. The warden at the prison is aware of the possible plot, but I wanted to get your help on this."
Unsubtly, Carew gritted his teeth, obviously affronted at the domineering attitude of the former detective. Taking an assertive stance that gave no ground; he folded his arms and did not make any attempt at civilities.
"That so? Why haven't I heard about it before this?"
"Then your sources have nothing? I was afraid of that." Steve moved over to the desk. Taking a memo sheet and pen he scribbled out some information. "It's possible that Lo Ming is involved somehow. I'll need you to check him out quickly. We've got to move fast on this -- "
"Whoa, whoa, wait a minute, Steve." Carew was huffing and moved around to confront his ex-boss. "Let me remind you you're not a cop anymore. You're some kind of private eye or something. I can't give you information about other private citizens."
McGarrett's parting from Five-0 had been amiable, from some sources, reverent. Crew had felt a little overwhelmed at the turnover, but Steve felt confident the malihini could handle the load and responsibilities. Coming here was a logical matter of course and the refusal confused him.
"Security consultant," he corrected with asperity. "I'm not asking favors for my business, Kimo, I'm telling you an international murderer is about to escape from your jurisdiction! I'm helping you do your job!"
As if reminding the former officer who held the authority, Carew took the paper and went around to sit behind the desk. He did not offer McGarrett to stay. "I'll look into this Lo guy."
McGarrett was almost out of patience. "Lo Ming. He's a community leader. Don't you know him?"
Carew shrugged. "Don't go out for Chinese much, but I've got a bright young lad on the staff who can take care of it."
He called on the intercom for officer Yoshi Nakamura. McGarrett smirked. So the young officer finally got his wish to join Five-0. [fan-stories -- ASPECTS OF FALLING STARS, UNDERTOW***] The receptionist reported Yoshi was not in at the moment.
With a shrug Carew raised his hands and crossed the room to stand by the door, his hand on the knob. "I'll look into it, Steve, promise."
McGarrett was not about to be ushered out of his former office by a former subordinate. "This is important, Kimo! Don't you understand? We're talking about Wo Fat escaping!"
The intercom buzzed. At the same time Carew moved, surprised as the door opened. Solo stepped in. "Steve, we've got a problem --"
The receptionist angled past the intruder, explaining to Carew that she tried to stop him. She also handed her boss a note, which Carew scanned quickly, his expression darkening.
"Seems you've gotten yourself involved with the wrong help, Steve. Your boy Williams was just involved in a chase and a shooting --"
"Shooting? Is he all right?"
Napoleon waved his communicator -- a slender, silver, pen-like high-tech communications device. "Illya just called. They're okay -- "
Carew ignored the gatecrasher. "You've hitched up with a reckless --"
"That's enough, Kimo!" From Napoleon he wanted confirmation. "They're okay?"
"Fine. But you know what this means, don't you?" Solo glanced at the belligerent Five-0 chief. "Our interview is over. Nice meeting you." With a false smile he gave a short bow and gestured for Steve to meet him out front.
"I'm gonna have your hot shot boy behind bars for shooting up the town --."
"No you're not." The cold, crisp tone stopped Carew's tirade.
More than anything Steve wanted to remind the
acrimonious cop that he was a renegade when he came to
"We -- Dan Williams, my other friends, and myself -- are trying to help you. I'll get back with you later about that information, Kimo. I hope you'll understand the urgency and get that data as soon as possible."
Steve took the koa steps two at a time as he raced back toward the car, anxious for a detailed report on Dan and Illya. Going into this Steve knew there could be danger -- usually was when Wo Fat entered the picture. Should he have involved his friends in this personal quest for justice? Or was this just simple revenge? Steve wanted Wo Fat behind bars for the rest of his life and would do anything to accomplish that. His friends had willingly joined in the fight, but Steve had to stop and consider that price now. Dan no longer carried a weapon and would be unable to defend himself against the ruthless forces pitted against them this time.
Steve still packed -- his .38 service revolver in an ankle holster. Illya and Napoleon still carried Walthers. By choice, Williams would not carry a gun again after his last shooting. Was this getting too dangerous to include an unarmed civilian -- even if he was an ex-cop?
*****
Relating the café shooting and subsequent
chase to McGarrett, Solo felt, might be the most perilous moments of his
current stay on
"They're all right, Steve. What else is bugging you?"
"Besides Wo Fat and -- " McGarrett heaved out a sigh and decided not to bother denying what must have been obvious to the old friend at his side. "Okay." Admissions of weakness or floundering were hard for Steve to confess. "I don't like being on this side of the fence when it comes to something as important as Wo Fat."
Solo raised his eyebrows, then raised them higher, placed his hand on the steering wheel and made a slight course correction.
Steve kept his eyes on the road now. "Don't give me that look. I told you not to worry about Danno and me on this operation."
Napoleon smoothed out a wrinkle in his
elegant linen trousers. "I know what you told me." The flash of a
tight, humorless grin. "Easier said than done, my friend. I understand
completely." He sighed; observing the old buildings of downtown nestled
next to the new high-rise offices soaking up the tropical paradise. "Dan
doesn't carry since the shooting with Jin Wu. Two problems -- one psychological
because he can't get over the shooting and his part in it. Number two --
hazardous in a practical sense because he's no use in a firefight." Steve
was about to object and Solo forestalled him with a hand on his arm. "It
made us a little nervous -- made me nervous sending my partner out there with
him against tongs or Chinese spies or who knows what. There was always the
possibility of latent programming left over from Jin Wu, too, which you didn't
need to mention. Illya and I already thought of that. There might be hidden
programming her brothers -- even her father could click back into existence and
Dan could be a walking assassin. I can accept the risks because I know Illya.
He can handle almost anything. And so can Dan. The shooting on
*****
The home office of the Wong Travel Agency kept a suite at a new shopping center near Ward Warehouse. Exclusive jewelry shops, art galleries and upscale restaurants rounded out the high-priced neighborhood.
McGarrett pulled around the far, mauka side to a parking slot out of the main view of the offices. Illya and Dan were already waiting there and joined the newcomers at Steve's car. McGarrett's concern, or anger, or both, contributed to his glowering expression. Dan hastily assured his friend the shooting wasn't his (or Illya's) fault, the chase was short and non-threatening to anyone, especially bystanders, and the HPD officers even let him off without a ticket after he explained the situation.
Grimacing, feeling like scowling and smiling at the same time, McGarrett just shook his head and put an arm on Dan's shoulder. "I'm just glad you're both all right," he assured as he led Dan over to the Mustang. Over his shoulder he mouthed a 'thanks' to Kuryakin, who returned the gratitude with a slight nod.
Stopping, Dan forced McGarrett to pause as well. "Are you worried that I'm not going to get through this, Steve? Napoleon and Illya are."
McGarrett admitted the spies held reservations about both of them, but if those considerations were serious they would have never brought the former cops in on the operation. Dan admitted Illya had said as much -- in laconic Kuryakin-style. To his friend, Dan admitted he thought he would be unnerved by the whole situation, but was not.
"The shooting and the chase -- it was like old times. I acted instinctively. Looking back, I thought I would be falling apart by now -- worried about what might be lurking in my own brain. But, the action kind of settled me. I feel like I can handle about any crisis Wo Fat throw at us. Does that make sense?"
With a knowing smile Steve confirmed he had no doubts about Williams. "You've never let me down in a crunch before, Danno, and you're not going to start now. Let's just get this over with."
Solo leaned against the hood of the white sports car and got a quick recap of the shooting event from Illya. From abstruse expressions, tones and phrases, he easily interpreted between the lines of his partner's narrative. Without the others even guessing of the subtitles, Napoleon learned nothing occurred that Illya couldn't handle, and Williams did not prove a liability either psychologically or physically.
"We still need to keep an eye on the big guy," Solo quietly related. "He's running on a short fuse."
Joining the other two, Napoleon suggested
they split duties. Illya could go in and assess the office, keeping his
communicator open. Napoleon could go in the back and check for any secured
rooms or safes where confidential documents would be kept. He could check out
any connections with
"That seems too simple," was Williams' objection. "Why would they leave confidential information laying around at a business? Shouldn't we try Wong's home?"
Kuryakin shook his head. "Such documents would not be kept at a private residence. This kind of connection is business." The Russian seemed certain of his theory. "Dealings would be done here under the guise of transactions -- nothing to connect Wong or his family with such operations."
Unaccustomed with letting others make the plans, McGarrett objected -- on the grounds it was condoning trespassing, if not more serious crimes. Napoleon curtly reminded the conventional ex-cops that he and Illya were not police and they could use some of their methods to extract information. McGarrett could help as an added distraction -- going to talk to Wong to set up some kind of business junket or something -- as a ruse to size up the head man. Reluctantly, Steve agreed with the plan and walked over to the agency.
Dan asked what he could do. Solo suggested he come with him and help -- nothing illegal, he promised.
"Good." Dan sighed. "After my brush with HPD this afternoon I wouldn't want to bother them again."
Illya entered the above-averagely elegant
agency and did not spot McGarrett. Presumably the ex-cop was meeting privately
with Wong as planned. An attractive, young Oriental lady at a reception desk
personally escorted Illya to another beautiful, young Asian woman in a
partitioned office. On the way Kuryakin commented, to no one in particular, the
pleasant layout of the offices. Fabricating a business trip to
Keeping the communicator open, Napoleon heard all of his partner's conversation. As he led Williams to the back of the mall he quickly found and picked the lock of Wong's back door. As expected, it was a storage area. A narrow hallway led into various rooms, then turned, presumably toward the front offices.
Miraculously no one was in the back rooms and Solo started pushing on walls, looking behind pictures until he found a wall safe behind a blue dragon painting. Williams locked the door while Napoleon quickly tested the combination. Hearing voices approach, Williams grabbed Solo and they hid behind an Oriental screen.
A middle-aged, over-weight Asian man entered the room, Napoleon saw through the hinged panel. Presumably Wong, removed something from the locked desk, then left, locking the door behind him. Napoleon returned to the safe while Dan searched the now unlocked desk.
Muttering, he listed charters for a tour of
the Na Pali coast, a flight to
Looking over Solo's shoulder, Dan was as pleased as the spy. "You think that's Wo Fat's escape plane?"
Knowing better than to voice his pleasure at the ease and luck of the operation, and thus jinxing the whole scheme, Solo still thought it. Scanning over the pages Napoleon memorized the details. "Find anything?"
"Nah. Except the weird intelligence that Wong owns the majority interest in a fishing boat at Fisherman's Wharf."
Perusing the forms, Napoleon gasped. "We better hope this isn't his way off the island. The flight leaves in half an hour!"
"That would mean . . . ."
"Wo Fat's already escaped!"
Quickly, Solo closed the safe and replaced the picture. From the door, Dan gave the all clear signal and they slipped out of the building with no problem. Racing to the cars, they were happy to see Illya and McGarrett already waiting at the Continental. Napoleon hurredly explained what he found even as Illya and Dan jumped into the Mustang and raced away toward the airport.
Not far behind, McGarrett sped through the city streets while Solo used the car phone to call Oahu Prison. Their fears were hastily confirmed when the warden related Wo Fat was missing. They were investigating the laundry truck which recently left the prison.
"Did you get that, Illya?" Solo dryly asked on the communicator.
"No comment." The Russian did not want to be reminded of his earlier prediction that Wo Fat's operatives would be smarter than this.
"You're sure the chartered jet is at the
Solo turned a perplexed eye to McGarrett.
"That IS where we're going." He recited a flight number from
memory. "Jet make and number and destination --
Puzzled at his own confusion, Steve searched for a reason his instincts vacillated about the jet at the airport. "It's too convenient, Napoleon. Too clean. Not at all like Wo Fat."
Ambivalent, Solo shrugged. "We're dealing with an obvious group here, Steve. The laundry truck -- who would have thought?" Clearly his argument did not dissuade the driver. "Okay, what do you think is wrong?"
"Danno said you found something else."
Recounting the paperwork that he remembered,
Napoleon itemized the jet charter to
Napoleon pondered the list. "The jet to
What had been logically decided a few minutes before was now under scrutiny in the ex-cop's suspicious mind. He thought back to the many other escapes Wo Fat engineered when on the islands. The Chinese spy always used a back door, never the obvious and always had a back-up plan. Suddenly it all came together in his brain and he knew Wo Fat's ploy this time. If his instincts were wrong he would kick himself for the rest of his life -- and so would his companions.
Without comment Steve slowed, turned onto a
side street off
Irritated at the thought of missing the capture of the spy, Solo tempered his complaint. He knew Steve well enough to realize the Irish ex-cop's instincts could be very accurate. "Okay, so where is Wo Fat instead of the airport?"
"The fishing boat."
Napoleon extracted his communicator pen and contacted Illya, explaining the situation. "So what do you want to do, tovarich?"
Kuryakin consulted with Williams then related to his partner. "We'll check the airport just in case, we're almost there. Keep in touch."
"Will do."
Cruising past the docks filled with fishing boats, McGarrett stopped the car suddenly. Ahead was a white laundry truck. A man in overalls was untying the line from the fishing boat to the dock.
Steve rushed out, Napoleon followed, juggling his pistol and communicator with practiced ease, adroitly managing the difficult task. "Illya, you won't believe this, but the laundry truck from the prison is here. Steve will never let us live this down." When the man on the dock turned and fired at them, Solo dove behind a parked car without breaking his stride. "And Illya, we could use some back-up."
Three other Asians appeared on the boat, firing at Solo and McGarrett. Steve shot the man on the dock before he could untie the line, and another Oriental came out to chop the rope loose from the ship's side.
"We can't let him leave!"
Pinned down by heavy fire, Napoleon glanced around, wondering how they would get out of this alive, let alone with Wo Fat. One well placed shot to the car's gas tank would end their side of the battle very quickly.
Sitting with his back against a rear tire, Napoleon reloaded his silenced Walther P-38. "There's such a thing as a Coast Guard, Steve and --"
"Just another chance for Wo Fat to slip through the net. Cover me." Crouching, Steve dashed to a nearby storage shed.
Solo snapped off quick shots, plastering the boat. "Heaven help us with obsessed hot shots." Firing as he ran, he followed McGarrett.
From the new angle Steve wounded the man trying to cut the line on the bow. Another foe down. The boat's engines started and they started to back out, straining on the ropes.
Napoleon picked off two Orientals, the last one disappearing from view in self-preservation. The ropes broke and McGarrett raced down the dock, Napoleon at his heels. As the boat sped away, Steve jumped the gap, landed a few feet away on the deck, skidding to his knees on the wet planking and losing his revolver. A moment behind, Solo had farther to jump and landed in a roll on top of some rope coils, his Walther tangling in the lines.
"Well, well, so nice to see we shall
have guests with us to
A shot cracked and echoed through the canyons of boats. Napoleon flinched, wondering why he didn't feel the pain of a close range bullet searing through his chest. Then the Oriental with the gun folded and dropped as the boat jolted from a slight collision. Wo Fat spun around in surprise. The three men on the bow looked astern. A small boat piloted by Kuryakin hit them again. In the front of the boat was Dan Williams, the Walther in his hands trained on Wo Fat.
Steve beamed, offering a salute to Dan, then Illya. Then he rammed Wo Fat up against the cabin. "You're taking a very diverting journey right now, Wo Fat. A one way trip."
With Steve binding the Chinese agent, Solo docked the boat and they escorted the criminal to McGarrett's car to await the official police. McGarrett vowed that this time Wo Fat would be handed over to Federal agents who return the spy his proper prison home. Then he asked how Kuryakin and Williams had managed such a timely intervention.
"It's their style," Napoleon smirked, pleased with his partner's usual skill in last-minute rescues.
"Thank you." Illya gave him a nod. To Steve, he explained, "When we drove up we heard the shooting. Dan knew a short-cut across the docks and we liberated a boat to bring us up behind the action."
Solo shook Dan's hand. "Just what partners are for." He gave a nod to Kuryakin, knowing the timely rescue -- and Dan's fortuitous handling of the weapon -- had been expertly engineered by the sly Russian. Leave it to his partner to know just the right thing to help out their old friends. And capture the bad guy. Silently, Illya gave a corresponding nod, acknowledging Napoleon's understanding of events.
McGarrett patted Williams on the back. "Well done, Danno. You saved the day."
Modestly, Dan shrugged, nodding toward Illya. "It was a team effort."
"You were the one with the dead-eye marksmanship," Napoleon complimented. "So I hope I never hear anymore about your self-doubts, Dan. We don't accept false modesty in our crowd."
Williams agreed to the rules and thanked the others for their sustained faith in his abilities and his well being. Upon reflection, it seemed silly he had refused to carry a weapon or had been intimidated by an imprisoned spy.
Subdued, McGarrett admitted that the Chinese agent often unduly influenced them without doing anything. Triumphantly, he glared at Wo Fat. "You know, I don't think I'll wait for the officials. Anybody want to take a ride to the prison with me?"
Solo raised his hand. "Count me in. I can sit in back with our Chinese friend and exchange pleasantries."
Illya and Dan decided to wait with the other prisoners for the authorities.
*****
Steve could hear them coming long before they
reached he office door. Napoleon, Illya and Dan were returning from a
helicopter tour of
Smiling at the argument, which seemed occasionally interrupted for the last few days, Steve decided he would miss Napoleon and Illya when they left the next day. Since their arrival, adventure had been non-stop. First the unpleasant kind with Wo Fat. Now the amusing kind as they socialized and de-stressed from the recapture of the Chinese spy.
"Oh, no," Williams insisted as he opened the door, Solo and Kuryakin coming in behind him. "The last time I set you up with someone on my list she never spoke to me again."
They gathered around McGarrett's desk, Kuryakin slouching into a chair. Solo winked at his old friend McGarrett, letting him know this was a game of teasing-the-youngster. "It's my last night in your lovely islands and you want me to spend it with you three? Think of how much more fun it would be if Dan would just invite some of his favorite girls." Gesturing between he and his partner he concluded, "Rich, good-looking and leaving tomorrow. I think Dan can't take the competition."
Stubbornly, Williams would not be swayed. "You're always saying we never see each other enough, Napoleon. Now's your chance."
Napoleon settled on the arm of Illya's chair. "We could stay an extra few days."
Williams paused, concerned.
Leaning back in his chair Steve smiled behind his hand, then quickly wiped it away, coming to the defense of his partner. "Maybe this would be a good time to let you know I've been useful while you've been playing." Assured of their attention he continued. "I talked to our FBI liaison. Wo Fat was delivered to a top secret Federal mainland lock up this morning. So secret they wouldn't even tell our contact. But he's buried so deep none of his tong will find him."
All were cheered by the news. Illya was surprised at the quick conclusion. "Then the men on the boat were members of the Nine Dragons?"
"Yes, somehow the FBI cooperated with the
CIA or whoever has contacts in
Williams asked the former spies, "Does that mean it's safe for you both to go back to Hon Kong?"
Solo shrugged noncommittally. "Not right away, Dan. We'll let the waters settle for a while, I think."
"It is a big world," Illya philosophized. "There is much room left over for us."
"Even
After they were gone, Dan sat on a corner of Steve's desk and leaned an arm on the computer. "He never gives up."
"Never." McGarrett smiled. "Good thing, or we would all be in Wo Fat's sights again -- with that fat spy somewhere across the Pacific."
"You think he's really gone for good this time?"
"I think we know better than to deal in absolutes, but I'm hoping we don't hear from our old nemesis for a very long time."
** --
*** --