Pretense of Justice
The typewriter had not been friendly. Ben wrestled, wrote, rewrote, crumpled paper for over two hours in hot debate with himself about how to write his resignation. I need to make the break -- but I don't need to burn any bridges. How can I tell Steve I am leaving? Maybe he'd be glad if I did. We don't have the same philosophy of work, that is pretty clear. Maybe we don't even have the same principles of life. Do I tell him I am quitting my job for a woman? I can just see the expression. Does it matter? What will I do? He had tried to see himself as a substitute teacher of middle school -- not be pleasant thought. Could I be a cop-in-a-box for some hotel? Kono did that. I don't think he's very happy. I can't see myself going back to school -- I not the book-learning type. If Iliki's dad hates me because of my job now, what would he think if I'm unemployed? Maybe I could drive a tour bus. I wish we hadn't decided to marry in just a few weeks.
It was nearly 2:15AM when he awoke with a start from where he was slumped over the typewriter. Muscles aching, he peeled off his outer clothing and dropped onto the bed of his studio apartment. He had never needed more than one room, a small fridge and a 13" TV. Things just weren't that important. Now that would all change. He wanted to give Ikili the best he could -- maybe I need to stay at Five-0 somehow . Sleep clouded over his awareness .
It was still dark when the phone beside his bed rang. Ben had never made it into a deep sleep and the sound of the ringer startled his nerves. What time is it? Am I late? It's still dark. The red gleaming alarm clock announced 4:04AM.
"Kokua," he muttered into the receiver.
"Meet me at St. Francis right now." McGarrett's smoldering voice ordered and he hung up.
Ben jolted from the bed. God alive, what has happened? Like the rest of the Five-0 team he kept a set of clothing at the foot of his bed in fireman-style always prepared for the late night calls that seemed to happen too often. He pulled on his pants as he shoved his feet into loafers -- then pulled on the pink and yellow aloha shirt, turned and grabbed his car keys with his left hand, his gun belt with his right and was out of the door before his brain could even attempt to process what the emergency might be.
The 15 minute drive to St. Francis was cut to 5 as the empty early morning streets granted him permission to exceed 70 miles per hour through downtown. By that time, his mind had kicked in. Steve called, not Danny, not Chin, not Duke ..St. Francis, not a crime scene ..He knew I was at home and not at the Moana Surfrider. Those three pieces put together did not promise a good exchange.
He did not worry about legally parking the car. As he literally slid the old black Ford into the ER lot he noticed the rest of the team's cars: Steve, Chin, Duke. Panic was settling in his brain by now -- something happened to Danny on the case I was supposed to be working.
The electric doors hissed back as Ben bolted into the ER waiting room. An old man sleeping it off on one of the couches looked up at him, then went back to sleep. Ben was at the desk in two steps. "Five-0." He uttered.
She hit the door buzzer and he passed back into the department -- spotted Chin instantly and what Chin held in his hand -- Danny's notepad.
Chin looked up, no emotion on his Asian features except the merest hint in his eyes of very well controlled anger. "Trouble, Ben."
"Chin, what's happened?" Ben asked around the growing lump of dread in his throat.
"Don't have all the pieces. Danny was found in the fourth floor stairwell at the Moana Surfrider by a cleaning lady around 3:10 this morning. Looks he fell or was pushed down the stairs."
"What?" My worst fear is true. I never should have agreed -- but Iliki .
"We don't know what happened." He tapped the notepad. "No reference to anything after 8:30 when he talked to Allison Stamper's mom. Hotel clerk says he left the lobby around 2:00AM. We've requested the video tape. HPD just called to say they found the cane on the 6th floor outside the crime room, so he was up there." Chin stopped talking.
Ben wondered what he was to say next. "Chin -- it was his idea." Boy, that sounds lame.
"His idea! He wasn't even supposed to be on assignment! You knew that! You let your better judgment be swayed by personal issues!" Chin exploded, then just as quickly brought himself into check. "Not professional, Bruddah," he added quietly. "You got somebody hurt."
The accusation from Chin of all people, an officer married and eight children, cut like a knife. I would have thought Chin would see this -- that he would understand -- maybe he does -- maybe I am the one who doesn't understand. "Is Danny okay?"
Steve paced the empty ER cubicle. The wait was intolerable. Bergman had been his usual cautious self about what was going on. Bergman just doesn't like to panic people. He's usually pretty close-mouthed until all the information is in. He'll tell me when he knows something. When. Dammit, Danno. You were supposed to be off on disability. We were cutting the corners allowing you to do light duty. You were supposed to just interview witnesses. You were supposed to be home in bed. Ben and his woman -- knowing you, this was all your idea, but now I'm going to have to do something about Ben. But what? And when IAD discovers we've had Danno on duty He kept his mind on these thoughts, they were easier to control than the deep darkness of his soul that was pushing its way towards the surface. I let him get involved. I did not control the situation, just like I did not control it when Camp used him. I should have done something more, something better. I should have been at the Moana Surfrider myself tonight. Jameson keeps telling me to delegate more to the team -- he called it micro-managing which has to be the latest catch phrase cooked up by personnel. What has happened tonight is no managing.
The curtain parted and Doc Bergman stepped into the cubicle. "Thought I'd let you know he woke up back in X-ray, so that's a good sign."
Steve noticed the X-ray in Bergman's right fist. "Will he be okay?"
"Well, the leg is okay." He slid the X-ray up onto the illuminating box and flipped the switch. The fluorescent bulb flickered an instant, then glowed brightly, revealing the profile of a skull and upper spinal cord. Bergman pointed to a spot on cervical spine. "Verbetral compression fracture -- C6."
"Which is?" Steve asked hotly. He was always annoyed when Bergman showed off his medical terminology.
"He broke his neck," Bergman said bluntly.
Steve stared at the X-ray which told him nothing. There was something abnormal about seeing the bones of your closest friend in a photograph. "Come on, Doc. How bad?"
Bergman crossed his arms. "There are only two choices: critical and dead and he's not dead. I don't know much more than that. Steve. We'll need to monitor him -- there could be more complications."
"What kind of complications?" Steve demanded. Why isn't he just telling me plainly? Doc is not usually so secretive. He knew Danny was supposed to be off duty. So is this the way he gets me -- by just refusing to tell me anything? His jaw flexed with anxiety.
Doc could see Steve's stress rising as surely as if it could have been measured by a meter. He has always hid his fear behind fury Does he think I am his enemy? Loved ones usually shoot the messenger in these cases. Is there a way to be gentle with this? Bergman sighed. "Let's just worry about it if it happens, okay? Seems to me you have enough to worry about right now." He reached out a put a hand on Steve's shoulder. "You know we'll do our best."
He's patronizing me. Steve's instinct to pull away was stayed by sounds of rubber wheels on tiled flooring. The curtain was parted by an orderly bringing the gurney bearing Danny into the cubicle.
Steve was by his side instantly, thoughts of anything else temporarily dismissed. "Danno?"
He blinked in the bright light, tried to locate Steve's voice, but the cervical collar restricted his movement. "Steve?" he murmured.
McGarrett moved into his field of vision. "How are you doin', bruddah?"
"Think I'm okay," he whispered. "Nothing hurts. I think I got lucky."
Steve glanced back at Bergman who did not make eye contact with him. McGarrett was suddenly awash in sorrow and the stark realization that no pain might not be a good thing. "Danno, what happened? Can you remember anything?"
"Dark .couldn't see chased him ."
"Him? It was a man not a woman?" If he was chasing the person at least it is unlikely he was pushed -- I am not looking at an attempted murder.
He muttered. "Let's go home, okay?"
"Not right now. They want to check you out a bit more," Steve offered gently.
"I can't find the flowerpot," Danny mumbled.
"What flowerpot?" Steve wondered what piece of information this could be.
"It was right here," he added.
McGarrett glanced up a Bergman who shrugged. "I'll find it," Steve promised. "Get some rest." He stepped away towards Bergman. "Doc?"
"I said he was awake -- not that he was cognizant."
Steve looked back at the gurney, then at Bergman. "Leonard," he murmured intensely, trying to fight his own cascading emotion. "Please -- just give me all of it. What is happening to him? He says he doesn't hurt anywhere."
Bergman placed the hand back on his shoulder. I wish I had something better to say, something to ease Steve's mind, but I don't. "Steve, he doesn't hurt because he's paralyzed from the mid-chest down. That may be temporary, then again, it may not."
Chin had looked through the notepad for clues that would help, but aside from Danny's note about the questionings, there was nothing. "We need to follow up with the mother."
"I'll do that," Duke offered.
"I was there for Rickie's questioning. I think I know how we want to approach him," Ben commented.
"I'll see if Steve wants me to follow-up with the morgue this morning," Chin shared. "And that video got leaked to the press last night. Wiseman's death was played over every major news network."
"Does Steve know that?" Duke asked.
Chin gave a single nod. "I imagine so." He had kept one eye on the door and now turned as Steve came through it. Chin had known Steve longer than any of them and often been accused of reading his boss's mind. This moment was no different. "This is not good news," he remarked quietly.
Steve entered the small circle and there was a chilly silence. How many times have we banded together to support each other in moments like this -- just three months ago we were a team combating the Stasi and our own Special Ops. But this time is different. We did this to ourselves -- it was totally preventable. "Anything in that to help us?" he asked gesturing to the notepad.
Chin curled a hand tightly around it, as though the notepad itself was a priceless object. "Just stuff about the questionings."
Steve nodded and glanced out of the window towards the parking lot. The sky was beginning to melt into a deep purple of approaching dawn. His attempt to control his emotion was rapidly unraveling. Setting his jaw he turned on Ben. "Ben, you're suspended without pay. Immediately."
Ben's jaw dropped in astonishment.
"Steve!" Duke exclaimed.
Ignoring the shocked looks, Steve continued. "Duke, go down to HPD and pull me the best detective you can get -- Nick Takea if he's available." He turned away. "I will see the rest of you at the office."
"Hold it!" Chin announced loudly at his superior's back. "There is no rest of us, Steve. You are over reacting here. You know as well as I that Ben did not neglect his duty."
Steve froze, but did not turn back.
Duke was thankful the waiting room's only other occupant was the drunk who was in a stupor. "Steve," he decided to add his own words, hopefully calming ones. "What did Doc say?"
Steve took a slow deep breath and then gradually exhaled, mildly surprised with himself. I didn't tell them anything at all. I have had to share bad news before. This is no different. Yet it is. Ben wasn't where I told him to be. He quietly turned around and focused on Ben as he spoke. "He has what Doc calls a compression fracture in his neck. Nothing to do but wait. There is nothing more we can accomplish here. Let's get to work."
There was a hiss as the outer doors opened to admit a uniformed officer. All four Five-0 officers' attention was instantly riveted to the black walking cane the man held lightly in one hand. He held it out towards McGarrett who in almost a dream-like trance very slowly accepted it.
For a moment Steve just stood in the center of the waiting room looking at the object in his hand, then turned away. "I'll see you back at the office."
Duke, Chin and Ben exchanged glances and for a moment no one said anything. "He's upset, he'll calm down," Duke offered. "He didn't mean it."
Ben gave a smirk. "Steve McGarrett is always very sure of everything he says and does. He meant it. Maybe he's right. Chin, you said it yourself, I screwed up my priorities." He gave a snort. "Well, I was thinking about resigning anyway -- so maybe he helped me make the decision."
Chin scowled at the floor. "So you'll just walk away?"
"Walk away!" Ben gasped in exasperation. "I don't think I've been given a choice here! I am one step away from having my ass fired -- or did you miss that? Better to resign and stand some chance of doing something beyond animal control officer for the rest of my life."
"I suppose so -- if you're only gonna think about yourself," Chin remarked.
Ben pressed his hands against his tired eyes. "I'm on suspension, Chin. Just what am I supposed to do?"
"You said you thought you could get to Rickie's dad."
"Do it. Follow the guy, talk to him." Chin shrugged. "So what if it's off the record? You can be a good citizen, can't you?"
Ben hesitated, shaking his head slightly. "I don't know, Chin."
"Yes, you do." Chin carefully handed him the notepad. "And you have a couple of hours to think about it. Steve wants Duke and me in the office. I would sure feel better if you were here with Danny right now."
Ben's eyes met Chin's and for a brief instant, Ben felt intense fear and apprehension in Chin Ho's mind. It astonished him. "Sure, Chin," he murmured, feeling almost like he'd just seen Chin naked. "I'll be glad to do that."
Chin looked away and gave an unexpected slight bow of
his head. "Thank you. One of us will come later."
Steve had gone to the Moana Surfrider, having picked up a duet of HPD uniformed officers. Andersen saw him coming from where he was discussing the morning's work with the gaffer.
"You," Andersen said sharply, pointing in Steve's direction and marching across the drive towards him. "You are the police chief, right?"
He flexed his jaw, attempting to be civil. "McGarrett, chief of Five-0."
"Five-0, yes that's right," Andersen commented, although it was obvious that information was trivial and did not matter. "I want my officer back."
Steve frowned. "These two officers will be handling security today," he stated.
"No, no -- I want MY officer."
"The officer from yesterday -- that tall, dark Hawaiian good-looking one. I want that one."
"Mr. Andersen, you are a film director -- you will be protected by whomever I see fit to assign."
"Well," Andersen placed his hands on hips. "That just will not do." He quickly glanced at the two officers. "No and no. I want MY officer back and I want him now."
Steve bit down on the inside of his lip, and struggled to control his temper. His emotions had taken quite a pounding and the day was still young. "Your opinion is noted, Mr. Andersen." He turned and walked into the hotel.
"Hey! You can't just walk away from me!" Hans shouted after him. He looked around. "Tina! Tina!"
She popped her head out of Jack's trailer where the make-up people were already at work.
"Get me Governor Jameson on the phone!" Hans squealed.
The sixth floor room was now guarded by a uniformed officer. Steve regretted that the need had not been anticipated earlier. They exchanged monosyllabic greetings and Steve went inside. He'd been in the room yesterday, but since then it had been violated. He stood in the center of the room and very slowly turned to take it all in. Something must have changed.
Forensics would be going through it again today, re-dusting for new fingerprints, re-vacuuming for the possible stray hair, anything that might lead a clue to the newest twist in this case.
Steve carefully passed the distance to the window again. The fingerprint dust from yesterday was still on the sills. They had not been touched. Something caught his eye near the bed-side table and he stooped down. Beneath the edge of the table was something plastic. He probed the corner with a pen -- and a red sharpie marker rolled out. He carefully scooped it into an evidence envelope. Now the question was if it had been there all along. His next stop would be at Che Fong's.
Bergman brought Ben a cup of coffee and a small cellophane wrapped pasty. He'd steered him to the small staff snack room while the medical personnel arranged to transfer Danny from ER to Intensive Care. "I hear congratulations are in order," the burley doctor commented.
Ben stirred sugar into the foam cup, sadly shaking his head. "Probably the shortest engagement on record."
"Oh?" Bergman sat down opposite him with his own coffee.
"When the thing went down and I got wrapped up in the case, I forgot I was supposed to meet Iliki's parents at six."
Doc lifted an eyebrow.
"When I remembered, it was nearly 8. Iliki was angry with me. Danny told me to go get it straight with her." He shook his head sadly again. "She's still mad, and now all this. None of it would have happened if I hadn't asked her to marry me."
Bergman sat stirring his coffee without making any comment.
"Danny said I hadn't thought it out. Guess he was right."
Bergman cracked a slight grin. "Don't think any of us would get hitched if we thought it out -- that's the way love is, Ben. Doesn't seem to me that Dan Williams would be the best source of advice on marriage."
Ben took a drink of the hot coffee. It was fresh and good. "I managed to lose the woman I love, my job, my future and probably one of my best friends all in just a few hours."
"Things look pretty discouraging right now," Doc agreed. "Fortunately, women do have a way of changing their minds. Iliki will come around if she really loves you. If she doesn't -- well better to have found out now then after you'd been married for three years. You probably really have screwed over your job, but from how I heard it, you weren't the one that made that decision. As for losing your friend, I know some pretty good people upstairs who are going to do everything they can to keep that from happening. Don't give up on Danny -- or on yourself."
Ben held Doc's words on encouragement tight in his mind. They were some of the few of consolation he had heard since this horror had begun. As soon as word came that Danny had been settled in, he went up to the room. Williams was still awake.
"Danny," Ben came close to him. "They get you comfortable?"
"I don't know why they're keeping me," he mumbled. "I told him that my leg is okay. I just need to stretch it a bit."
"Danny, it isn't your leg. Doc told you that you hurt your neck, remember?"
Danny gazed at Ben. "I have this collar on."
"Right," Ben agreed. He's acting confused like old men do. My grandfather got like this. Couldn't remember anything except his childhood.
"Is Steve here?"
"No, he's at the office." Ben tried to convince himself that Danny asking for Steve had not hurt. No matter what, he wants Steve. McGarrett is like some kind of god image to him; it's always about Steve's approval.
"Let's go to the office," Danny commented.
"Danny, you need to stay here," Ben said patiently.
"Nope. I can sign out AMA. Where's my clothes-"
Ben, they've tied me to the bed," Danny said in sudden alarm.
"No, Danny -"
"Ben, get me out of this thing -- I can't get my hands loose!" He was rapidly getting panicked and agitated.
"Danny!" Ben had his hands on Danny's shoulders. "You are not tied. You are unable to move."
"I can't get free! I want to get up!" Danny shouted back. "Ben -- get me out of here!"
A nurse had arrived and injected something into the IV line.
"No, don't let her -" Danny exclaimed, knowing she had added a sedative to the line. "Ben, help me, please."
"Danny," Ben pleaded, tears in his eyes of frustration and pain. "You had been injured, you cannot move," a tear slid down his cheek. "You can't move at all."
"What?" he gasped. The drug in the line was already affecting him, slowing his responses even more. "Can't move?" His expression was of disbelief and fear. "Ben help me why is this happening? Where's Steve? ." He dropped into a drug induced slumber.
Ben slowly stepped back, releasing Danny's shoulders and, hiding his face, wept.
Steve was late to meet Chin and Duke, but brought Che with him for the morning report. Duke had the coffee ready for them all as Che set up the film of Ronnie's fall that had now been shown in living rooms around the world.
"No question but that he did not jump to his death. He would have either hit feet first, or flat front. He curled as he fell." Che slowly the speed of the film. "He was either unconscious or already dead when he went out the window."
"How did someone get him through it?" Steve asked.
"We found scuff marks on the upper window sill." Che produced a black and white glossy. "Compared it with the shoe polish on Wiseman's shoes -- a match."
"He was head down when he went out the window," Steve concluded.
"Yes," Che said, smiling at Steve and his talent for drawing conclusions.
"It would have taken at least two people to do that," Duke commented.
Steve eyed his bulletin board and the list of possibilities. "Or someone very strong. Our person returned to the scene last night. Danny thinks it was a male. So, let's separate the list by gender, then by who is staying at the Moana Surfrider. After than look at phsyical build They locked down the doors so after 1:00AM no one came in or left until after the security was beefed up around 3:30AM. Since then, there has been a list kept of everyone coming and going. Let's see who's left."
The intercom buzzed.
"Yes, Jenny," Steve said as he pressed the button.
"The Governor would like to see you in his office, Steve," she announced.
Not much doubt what that is about, Steve thought.
"Chin, I want you to see if you can get alone with Ally Stamper.
Keep the mother out. See what she will tell you about her relationship
with Ronnie Wiseman -- and ask her about this 'playing down' thing,"
he instructed as he started for the office door. "Che, keep on the
team. I want anything we can get off that marker, even if it's just a
partial. Duke, 'nevermore' is out of Poe's poem The Raven. Get
a hold of a copy of it and see if it tells us anything. And while you're
at it--" he tossed a copy of the movie script towards Duke. "Some
It had been twenty minutes since the nurse had given Danny the sedative. Ben had spent most of that time trying to mentally walk his way through all that had happened in the last twelve hours. He remembered Chin's suggestion that he do some stealth followup with Rickie Mattingly's father. With Danny soundly asleep, this might be a good time. He glanced over at the cardiac monitor. He knew nothing about what was normal or wasn't, but the heart rate that had been nearly 100 during Danny's panic before had been gradually slowing and was now 48 and Danny looked to be at peace. At least until he wakes up and has to deal with this again. Ben rose from the corner chair and turned towards the door. As he did, an alarm suddenly sounded on the telemetry monitor and out at the desk in stereo. Ben's first thought was that he had somehow done something. The number on the monitor was 44 in red and blinking.
The nurses hurried into the room, simultaneously checking both Danny and the equipment. "Respirations decreasing and failing -- someone get a doc on the horn or we're gonna lose him," the lead nurse announced. "Intubation set, ventilator on standby, increase the 02 and bag him."
"BP 60 over zip," another announced.
"Get a dopamine drip ready," the first ordered. "And somebody get a doctor's ass up here."
Steve gave a friendly wave towards Jameson's secretary as he entered the outer office.
"He is expecting you," she replied, but her smile was forced.
Steve wasn't quite sure how he was going to defend the decision to allow Danny to ride a desk let alone what had happened earlier this morning. Best to just own it and move on, he told himself.
"It has not been a pleasant morning, Steve," were Jameson's first words.
It's only 8:15AM. "Yes, sir," he replied.
"I just got off the phone with Hans Andersen," Jameson said.
Andersen? Steve had not quite expected that.
"He is claiming you have disturbed his shooting schedule and interfered with his cast. I know all about the sad event of the jumper -- but Steve we need to try to accommodate the man as much as we can."
"He is concerned that the film's backers will pull their financial support."
"Sir, a murder was committed there yesterday, not a suicide."
Jameson blinked. "Murder?"
"Our forensics team miraculously completed the investigation in record time. They are back filming this morning."
Jameson nodded. "What about Ben Kokua?"
"Andersen wants the same contact person. That doesn't sound unreasonable."
"Ben Kokua is on suspension, sir."
"Ben? Suspension?" The Governor looked astonished.
Steve gritted his teeth. "It is a departmental issue."
Jameson frowned. "I want you to put him on the film detail, Steve."
McGarrett felt his blood start to boil. "He is on suspension, sir, not vacation."
"Well, get IAD to back down!" Jameson snapped.
"IAD did not suspend him, I did."
"You -- " He paused and waved a message from IAD. "This has something to do with this, doesn't it? I haven't talked with them yet, but they only call when they have a problem with you and my guess is this has something to do with Danny's accident."
"It probably does. That accident happened because Ben did not follow orders."
Jameson paced behind his desk. "I don't know much of this yet, but let me tell you how I see this. If Danny was even in the office, someone did not follow orders. That was before any mistake Kokua could have made." Jameson stopped pacing and turned to face Steve. "I want Kokua back on the set as fast as possible. I'll talk to Manicote and see if he can help you dodge the bullet from IAD."
Steve was both embarrassed and angry. He turned to leave and as a he opened the door, the secretary looked up, the phone in her hand. "Mr. McGarrett, I have a phone call for you from Ben Kokua."
Steve glanced back at the Governor. Did Ben do an end run around me to the Governor? He took the phone, fighting to speak in a civil tone to Kokua. "Yes, Ben."
Ben's voice was shaking. "Steve, you need to get over here to hospital right away. Things aren't going well."
McGarrett stood in the doorway of the intensive care cubicle trying to understand how the situation had gone from one where Danny had been stable and talking with him only three hours before to what he now saw. There was a ventilator tube taped in place, breathing for him; four IV lines were running with tubing and wires spaghettied all over the bed and Danny lay pale and non-responsive under the bright cubicle light. A defibrillator stood just inside the doorway, close at hand in case of need.
"What happened?" Steve whispered to Ben, any stress between them momentarily forgotten.
Ben slowly shook his head. "I don't know. Everything just stopped."
Bergman left a small staff room and approached them. His appearance was redder than usual and he was sweating. "Steve, I told you there might be complications."
"What happened, Doc?"
"A first year resident happened."
Steve's jaw flexed. "Are you telling me a doctor screwed up?"
Bergman sighed. "Just failed to anticipate what could result. Danny was upset. Nurse called for something. They gave him a sedative. His nervous system was already compromised. Didn't take much. The sedative was a central nervous system depressant. Instead of just settling him, everything shut down."
Steve glanced past Bergman to the young man standing in the doorway of the staff room. He looked very young and very anxious. "That him?"
Bergman nodded. "I'm dealing with it, Steve."
Ignoring the comment, Steve approached the young resident. "I am Steve McGarrett of Five-0."
"Randy French," the young doctor replied and extended a handshake. Steve did not accept the gesture.
"Dr. French, your patient in there is the finest law enforcer I have ever known. And he is my personal friend."
"Yes, sir," French murmured.
"You had better pray he doesn't die, because if he does, I will find a way to bring you up on criminal charges. Do you understand me?" Steve's voice had never risen above a quiet hush but his expression was deadly. Steve turned his back and walked over to Ben. "The Governor has told me to put you back on the film crew assignment immediately."
Ben had been thinking about how much Danny would have given to personally hear the comments Steve had just made about him to the resident. "What? The Governor?"
"You are to return to the film site and oversee the security," Steve stated bluntly without making eye contact with Ben.
This doesn't sound like it has come through Steve's reconsidering events. He's been ordered to do this for some reason.
"When you get there, find Chin and tell him he needs
to call Clara Williams, then get over here."
End part 3