When the Stars Begin to Fall
By Peg Keeley


Part 5


Providing an explanation of Mali's verbal attack was not something Lukela wanted to do and took a direct order before he reluctantly provided McGarrett with loose transliteration. The tall, muscular Hawaiian who looked like he would be able to handle just about anything had been very timid as he quietly offered: "She was telling him that he lacked in --uh--the--um--manhood department," he started, his face flushing. "And that sexually he was less than adequate. She went on to include all --um--haoles--non-Hawaiians as --um--unable to perform--if you take my meaning---Sir."

"Thank you, Lukela."

Uncertain what kind of response to give, surely 'you're welcome' seemed inappropriate, Duke escaped back to the squad room.

Steve was exhausted emotionally and physically. There were several hours of paperwork ahead of him. He also wanted to check in on Kono who was watching Polski. By now Polski must have come back to his apartment. He must have realized that the police had been there. He opened the door to the small office and stopped in disbelief.

The room was lit by dim candlelight from a single taper set into a gleaming silver candlestick on the desk covered by a white linen tablecloth. Service was two was laid out and a bud vase containing a single hibiscus flower served as a centerpiece. As this initial visual image registered, his olfactory senses reported the mouthwatering aroma of meat and gravy.

Diane turned towards him wearing a smile and a pale yellow chiffon evening gown. "You couldn't come to dinner, so dinner came to you," she explained. "Hungry?"

The tired face melted into a warm smile. "Starved." He squeezed into the office. "How did you do all this?"

"It was nothing," she said as she spooned the meat and juice onto his plate. "I just couldn't let our evening be spoiled. You look so tired." She planted a gentle kiss on his forehead.

He reached up, hand caressing the back of her neck, and gently pulled her downward where he returned a more passionate demonstration on her lips. "You are a beautiful lady," he whispered quietly to her.

She blushed. "Do you say that to all the girls?"

He gave a half smile. "Most assuredly, no." Somehow the cramped space didn't seem so dank and second hand. Maybe it was the candlelight, then again, maybe it was Diane. Steve watched the smooth curve of her neck as she finished serving the meal onto the plates. In this light, her skin seemed to give off a porcelain sheen. I love her, as amazing at that may seem. I feel as though I would give anything for her. He slipped a hand around her waist and gently pulled her close and down onto his lap.

She smiled quietly and kissed him.

He brushed her stray strand of hair away from her face and studied her features, her chin cupped in his hand, while time seemed to catch its breath. Do I dare to open my life to this angel and bring her into all this? Can I hope to have a life devoted to her as well as to my duty? And if I should have to choose? He closed off the voice of reason that too often controlled his actions. We are together now and that is enough. His lips again met hers.


Kono had a perfect seat for the view of Polski's apartment. The apartment cattycorner to Polski's was vacant and not only provided a view of the hallway to the apartment, but from the window, he could see into the apartment as well. It was nearly nine o'clock and he had lost at solitaire for the twenty-third time. A half-empty carton of chow-mien sat with chop sticks poking out of the top. He had begun to wonder if Polski would return at all. Maybe he'd been tipped off.

There were footfalls on the stairway.

Kono abandoned the cards and stepped closer to the door.

Shuffling feet had reached the top of the landing and started down the hallway. They stopped.

From his place behind the door, Kono could see Polski had stopped in the corridor halfway to the apartment. He was looking at the doorway.

He had a system of some kind. He knows someone was there. Kono recalled Steve saying Polski would know. Their plan counted on him knowing.

Polski had a small caliber pistol in his left hand now as he carefully examined the frame of the door. With a sudden quick kick, he burst through the door, gun hand first.

Kono waited, mentally seeing the image of Polski carefully pacing the apartment, looking for signs of the intruders and determining they were no longer present. He has to go to the hiding place. He has to.

But the spy was cool. Kono moved to the window view and could see him slowly circle the living room, disappear into the kitchen, and then come back into view again. Kono ducked as Polski came over to the window, then pulled the blinds.

Polski crossed back to the other side of the room, then entered the bath. He moved to the secret tiles, and examined them. Nothing here looked touched. Maybe it was not found. He gingerly used a penknife to remove the two tiles and gave an audible sigh as the light reflected on the surface of the small metal box. Deciding to take no further chances, he lifted the container from its hiding place, slid it inside his jacket pocket then hurried out of the his apartment.

Kono watched Polski hurry down the stairs, then ran to the car to maintain the pursuit. "Kalakua to dispatch," he said into the radio. "Give me McGarrett."


Steve was astonished when the phone rang. The peaceful, romantic atmosphere was suddenly shattered. It rang again.

Diane rose from his lap as he grabbed for the receiver. "McGarrett."

"Polski came back. Now he's on the move. My bet is he has the box with him, boss," Kono reported.

"Stay on him. I'll get you backup. Where are you."

"Just turning left onto Pali Highway."

Steve disconnected and called the dispatch. "I need two unmarked cars to co-ordinate with unit two in following a suspect in the Hastings case." This isn't fair. We should have had the evening. Will a life of my own be possible in this job? He gazed at Diane. "I-I'm sorry."

She gave a smile and a shrug. "It's all right. We got our dinner, didn't we? This is what you have to do. Maybe we can get together tomorrow?"

"Yes," he agreed. "I'd like that. I promised you a sailing venture. How about I'll come by your place around twelve o'clock?"

"Twelve it is," she agreed with a smile. "And if we are out in the harbor maybe your friends won't find you."

Steve hurried out of the office, feeling a little guilty at leaving Diane to clean up the dinner and make her way home alone. This was not how I thought the evening might wind up.


The night away from the busy lights of Honolulu was dark. There was a half moon in the sky, but it did not offer much illumination. Kono parked his car and began to make his way down the crushed shell road he'd seen Polski turn down. The breeze off the ocean was tainted with salt and the waves could be heard rolling up on the beach below the cliffs. He knew there was an old fisherman's cabin out this way. It had to be where Polski was headed. Kono found the small hut without difficulty and carefully crept into the thick undergrowth of bayonet and Kawai close to a window to listen…


…"You should not have come here," Ling Tu snapped at Polski. "You were to wait for instructions."

"Things changed," the young man replied. "Someone was at my place. Cleaned up pretty good, but they tossed it. They did not find the microfilm. I decided not to let them have a second chance."

"So who is on to you?" Tu demanded. "CIA? Police?"

Polski frowned. "I'll deal with whoever it is later. I just need to get this off my hands."

"It may not be that easy," Ling growled, "They detected you. They may have followed you here."

"Nobody followed me," he answered. "Now I want my pay and I'm gone."

His brows knit together. "You were to do this quietly."

"Murder is never a quiet affair, Tu. Nobody knows about your boss and that's how he wants it. I did my job good enough for you. I want my pay."

"Where are the plans?"

"First the money," he replied.

Ling looked apprehensive. He picked up the phone and dialed a number. He spoke in hushed Mandarin, listened, then hung up. "Very well. Those of us in this -- profession -- must be honorable." He opened the drawer of a small dressed and took out a black attaché. "Your fee."

Polski gave a nod and handed the metal box over to Ling.

Ling reverently opened the seal and carefully lifted the sliver of microfilm to the light, then returned it to the small container...


….Kono jumped as the brush before him parted. He was staring into the face of a stern looking white man who held a small caliber gun aimed towards the officer.

"Out here, slow like," the man ordered quietly.

Where did this guy come from? I know there were only three guys here; Polski, Ling, and the bodyguard on the door. Who the hell is this guy? Kono slowly stepped out onto the walkway.

"Out here," the man whispered intently.

Hands raised, Kono moved a few steps farther from the hut, glancing back to attempt to keep an eye on what was happening inside.

Another man stepped out, and quickly frisked Kono finding the officer's .38.

"Who are you?" the first man demanded in a fierce whisper.

Whoever they are, they aren't with Ling or they'd already be yelling. "Who are you?" Kono asked instead.

The man's expression of control intensified. "Don't get cute with me, coconut boy. Who do you work for?"

Indignant, Kono stood his ground. "Who you think you talkin' to?" he said a little more loudly than he should.

"You'd better talk, boy, you're not the one in control here," the man snapped.

"Want to guess again?" came a voice as Frank Kamana stepped from the darkness, his weapon drawn on the two men.

One of them cursed under his breath.

"Guns on the ground," Frank ordered as Kono relaxed. "Now."

The first one bent down to place his gun on the ground. The second began to oblige, then spun and fired at Frank who avoided the shot and returned fire, hitting the man in the upper leg.

Inside the hut, the three men scattered.

Kono raced for the side of the small cottage, but was too late as Ling and associates vanished into the night. He turned back towards Frank and the two men, one of whom lay on the ground clutching his leg.

"Better go call McGarrett," Frank muttered showing the first man's ID in a flashlight beam. "I just shot a CIA agent."


"I told you to leave this to me," Marten Camp snarled at McGarrett. "I thought you'd get the idea."

"I got your idea all right," Steve replied. "But it did not impress me much." Anger blazed in his eyes. "Now I have an investigation that is being conducted by the State of Hawaii and you are in the way. I will haul your butt in for obstruction of justice just as quick as any other civilian. You got that?"

Camp's eyes narrowed. "You are a little fish in the big pond, McGarrett. State Police do not matter squat next to Feds. CIA takes charge and you back out or I'll make it official through the people upstairs, you got that?"

McGarrett never wavered. "Then you'd better make it official -- if you can. You have a covert group here, Camp, and it is compromised. You know that, I know that, Wo Fat knows that. I'm not certain there isn't anyone who doesn't know it. What is Hastings? Double agent?"

Camp glared at him, flexing jaw muscles. He had just put one of his men into an ambulance. It was a major embarrassment to have one of his agents outwitted by these local amateur cops. Washington would not be happy. Heads were already going to roll because of this Hastings mess and things were getting worse by the minute. Kaye seemed to have been unable to leash this new Island cop.

McGarrett glanced around in the dark. There were five HPD people talking with Frank and the other CIA agent. Kono's statement had been taken first and McGarrett had already sent him off to try and pick up the trail of Polski. "Marten," he referred to Camp by his first name in effort to put aside the power struggle. I guess I can afford to do that since I possess the power and we both know it, "if we'd pooled our efforts from the beginning, we'd be better off right now. You can either work with me or I'll work alone. My guess is that we are already ahead of you on this one."

He sniffed. "Not likely. All you have in conjecture."

Steve raised an eyebrow and moved even farther away from the cluster of people. "Join me in my car." He slid into old blue Ford and shut the door.

Camp glanced around at his surroundings, then got in the passenger side and shut the door. "Okay, McGarrett. Tell me what you know."

Why? Because I know more than he does? So he can deny it? He is not likely to suddenly fill in all the holes for me. He decided to give a small piece and see how Camp responded. "Hastings is one of your people. Chances are, he was living a new name the past few years. The publishing house he works for is a front for your CIA post in Honolulu."

Camp stared out of the windshield in silence.

At least he did not deny it. "My guess is he turned double agent and was going to turn something over to the Chinese for a price."

Camp now looked at him. "His real name was John Franks. We trained together. I don't know what went wrong with his cover here, but I know he would never have sold out his country. Never. "

Steve gave no response.

"They threatened him, must have."

"And Lynette?" Steve asked.

He nodded. "They came to the Islands because they needed to come in from the cold. Until six years ago, they'd been working with a team in Europe to smuggle out German rocket scientists. They'd retrieved three of them from the Russians. In 1954 Lynette was captured, tortured---John came apart as you might imagine. We got her back but---" he sighed, "--well, they needed out -- she needed out. We relocated them here, retired her. She didn't even know John was still with the agency." He stopped talking.

"So what happened?" Steve asked.

Camp shook his head slightly. "I don't know. Honestly, Steve, I don't know. When Natalie was killed, I thought it was a local thing -- until…" he stopped again.

"…until the missile plans turned up missing at the same time?" Steve finally put in.

Camp scowled at him.

"Yeah, we know it was the reason she was killed," he supplied. "Hidden in the wall in the bedroom."

Camp gave a slow exhale.

Steve waited. "So, why, Marten?"

"Why?" He turned to face Steve. "Why what?"

"Why this whole thing. We could have brought in Polski, his contact, the whole thing. Instead we all look like saps going after each other."

Not as much as I do for letting locals get the better of trained agents. "You were in NIS, you know there are things we can't just blurt out to anyone."

"Where were Hastings - Franks - when their daughter was killed?"

"Off the Island."


He lifted his eyebrows. "Book sellers convention in Cleveland, I think."

"So where did you whisk the Hastings away to now? I still have questions for them."

Camp gave a little shake of his head. "We removed Lynette during the night last night. You won't be asking anything of her."

"And the man I knew as Roger?"

"He did not meet his contact."


Camp pursed his lips. "He failed to meet his contact."

"This is the guy you said would never sell out his country?"

"Look, it was Lynette, okay. The Russians did something to her mind. They triggered something in her with a phone call. Dammit, I even have the stinking call recorded and it isn't much. All they said was 'When The Stars Begin to Fall.' She used her top security clearance, stole the prototype and hid it. John did not know. He was gone a lot. I won't go into it, but he was working with Intelligence on a little affair starting to heat up in Southeast Asia. He figured it out when he was approached by a Chinese agent who demanded the plans. Of course, he refused -- at first. Polski was involved and Natalie was dead before John realized what was happening."

McGarrett glanced towards Camp. "So Polski wooed Natalie to get her to steal the plans?"

"Maybe. Or maybe just to get into the house where it was. Clever twist to drug the boy at the house so he'd take the fall. Nice piece of police lab work there. We were hoping Polski and Ling would take us to the top Chinese operative."

"Wo Fat?"

"Probably, but that isn't confirmed. Garrison's people found Ling Tu for us and we were following him -- until tonight."

"And the Russians?"

"Front man is dead. I'm sure there is another on his way, or maybe here, but we haven't picked up on him yet. Too bad the Chinese have the plans, it would have been nice to pit the Ruskies against the Chinese."

Steve said nothing for several minutes. "We'll find Polski, Camp."

He snorted. "You never should have left NIS, Steve. These Hawaiians won't ever appreciate your talents."

"Perhaps," he replied.

"It's Ling to follow now," Camp remarked. "He's the one with the plans."

"Polski has committed a murder here. I want him for that," Steve replied. And I know that Ling doesn't have the plans. It won't be long before Ling knows that and he'll go after Polski whereever he is. No, Camp, Polski is the player to watch -- but I don't think I'll tell you that.


Steve went back to his second floor apartment, but in spite of his exhaustion and the emotional drain of Saturday that was now well into the early hours of Sunday, sleep did not come easily. He had the nagging sense that there was something he was forgetting -- something that might make a difference. Over and over he played the pieces of the Hastings case, but could not remember what it was. He at last fell into a light sleep shortly past three a.m.

The phone rang at 4:30 and he lifted his head from the dazed slumber and fumbled with the receiver. "McGarrett," he muttered into it.

"Kono," came the painfully alert voice. "I found Polski."

Steve sat up, alert, tingling. "Good work, Kono."

"He's boarding a plane for Hilo. You want me to take him off?"

"No, get on the plane, too."

"What?" Kono asked.

"Get on the plane."

"I -- you want me to follow him to Hilo?"

"Yes, Kono. Get on the plane. The state will pay for it."

"I -- um -- I don't like flying, boss."

"That's too bad, Kono. Get on the plane." Upon saying it, Steve tried to ease up. Kono had been up all night and the day before, too. "Just stay with him. I'll have Chin come after you later this morning and you can come back and get some rest."

"Okay, Boss." He glanced a little fearfully at the gateway out to the small prop plane that sat on the runway. He walked over to the stewardess and flashed his badge. "Room for one more?"


After the short conversation with Kono, Steve lay awake again, pondering Polski. He's running. From whom? Us? CIA? The Chinese? Probably everyone. Why Hilo? Maybe no reason, maybe just to put distance between himself and everything. Maybe not. Hilo is a bit remote, hard to supervise, but strangers stick out there. His weariness won out again close to 5:30 and, just as the sun was cracking the horizon, he drifted back to sleep.

The phone rang at 8:00. Steve had a headache. It rang a second time as he picked up the receiver and again murmured a hello.

"Steve," came Jameson's enthusiastic voice, "I've got to show you this! I got some people to put their heads together and -- well, I think you'll be pleased."

His joyful excitement was painful to McGarrett's ears. It's too early for this, whatever it is.

"Will you meet me at the Iolani Palace?" The Governor sounded like a school child with a secret.

"Hum, yes, sir. When, sir?"

"Nine o'clock."

"I'll be there." Steve rolled out of bed, aching all over and wishing he was asleep. Before stumbling to the shower, he called Chin Ho to ruin his Sunday, too. He told him to catch the next plane to Hilo.


Jameson led Steve up the flight of mahogany stairs, chattering excitedly all the way. "I cannot tell you what a wonderful impression you have made on the city council with the way you handled the Palmer incident. Even HPD is lining up behind you!"

Steve did not give an immediate response. It was just another day's work. A lot of people were in pain and it did not seem right for him to celebrate and profit from the tragedy.

Jameson unlocked the heavy wooden door to an office suite. "We'll get the office logo on the door right away," he promised.

"What?" Steve felt unusually dull. Lack of sleep, no doubt.

"The new offices for Five-0," Jameson proclaimed like he was showing off a new baby.

The outer office was large enough to contain two secretaries' desks and still place a row of chairs for those waiting and a large file cabinet. To the left were three cubical offices and straight ahead another thick mahogany door with "Steve McGarrett" stenciled in gold lettering. He paused, looking at it.

Jameson gave him a nod and a smile, then opened the second door.

The office was nearly as large as the rest of the suite combined. A large walnut desk with several chairs facing it dominated the room. A credenza was off to one side. The large, tall windows looked out on a lanai. Steve noticed at there were four phone lines, a large bulletin board and, sitting in a place of honor on a small side table was a coffeepot with a red bow on it.

"I want to you to interview Jenny Sherman tomorrow," Jameson added. "I stole her from the DA's office. Marvelous secretary. She's handled six lawyers over there for the better part of three years, I'm sure she can be den mother to you three with no trouble."

Steve looked round, recalling the dinner by candlelight in "termite haven" last night. Just when I'd found a reason to like the place. "Governor, I don't know what to say, this is really nice."

"Well, it does come at a price."

He turned in sudden concern.

Jameson smiled and pointed to a stack of files laying on the desk. "The President is coming in two months. I need you to coordinate with Secret Service. There is also an update on the Kumu from HPD. Maui has evidence of a gun running operation. The University would like you to be guest speaker at their Trustee's banquet." He stopped and smiled. "We have plenty to keep you busy."

Steve carefully sat down behind the desk that would become to hub of Five-0 for years to come and picked up one file.


At just past 11 am, two enormous tectonic plates of earth crust along the fault off the coast of Chili shifted causing an earthquake close to 8.5 on the Richter scale. The shift resulted in a large surge of oceanic activity that started a wall of water rushing northwestward towards the Hawaiian Islands at nearly four hundred miles per hour.


Steve met Diane at the dot of noon and carried the picnic basket down to the marina where he had rented a sailboat for the day. Someday I will own one and I will bring her sailing as often as she likes. Diane had never seen the Island from the harbor, or been in the harbor, so he spent a fair part of their afternoon showing her the sites.

As he maneuvered carefully around the buoys and red marker flags and warned seamen away from where the rusting hulls of sunken ships still rested after nineteen years Diane sighed, her smile fading a little.

"It is so sad," she whispered.

"What is?" he replied.

"All those men who died. Their bodies just stayed down there. It must be terrible for the people who lived here and know that their bones are just down there below the surface." She shivered.

"Actually, money is being raised for a memorial," he explained. "Right over there." He gestured towards the resting-place of the USS Arizona along Battleship Row. "Construction is to start next month."

"It is so hard to believe," she commented. "It is so beautiful here. It must have been terrible. I barely remember it at all. I lived in Michigan and I did not even know where Hawaii was on the map. I was only 10 at the time. I remember my mother crying. My oldest brother came home and declared he was joining the army. It was all so confusing to me."

"I guess Pearl Harbor is one of those events that you can always remember where you were and what you were doing when you learned of it." Steve recalled his own experience. I was seventeen, almost eighteen, standing in my mother's kitchen in Norfolk, Virginia. She dropped a bowl and it broke. He could remember the anger of youth, the righteous rage of wanting to make the world right. I was going to do that -- make the world right. What ever happened to that boy anyway? His mind wandered to the young people who'd been in the conference room the night before and to Williams. "I didn't do it for you...I did it because it was right." He was startled by the splash of cold salty water on his face.

Diane giggled from where she leaned over the gunwale and splashed him again. "You look so serious!"

He smiled, feeling that heavy shroud of responsibility drop away from his back. It's hard to think of anything but her when she is around. And she is joy to my soul. Maybe this is just what I need in my life -- someone to help me gain the perspective that life is more than duty and responsibility. He pulled on the tiller and turned the boat out towards the point. The view was breathtaking out that way.

Diane scooted over in the sailboat until she sat on the deck between his legs, her back against his chest, her head on his shoulder. "I am so glad I came to Hawaii," she whispered. "It is so pretty here, but it would be nothing without you."

He leaned down to give her a gentle kiss, breathing in the floral scent of her dark hair, the softness of her skin, feeling the beating of her heart against him. "Diane, I love you."


Ling Tu stood remorseful and silent, watching as Wo Fat contemplated the choices. Will I die for this? Certainly I had no way of knowing that Polski would take such a foolish risk with his life -- and mine.

At last Wo raised an eyebrow and turned towards him. "Where is our unfortunate Mr. Polski now, Tu?"

"Reportedly he took a flight to Hilo," he replied.

"And from there?"

"I do not know. I have sent Kwong Chou to find him, but I believe there are Americans after him as well." He gestured to the photos on the table. "We --"

"Yes, yes," Wo said quietly, "I am aware of them." He scowled at the fuzzy night photo of McGarrett standing beside the car with Camp. It is with pleasure that I encounter a dangerous enemy whom I already know. McGarrett is predictable. He will be seeking Polski, too. He may already possess the missile plans. Polski may not even know he delivered us a fake. Certainly he has always been reliable in the past and he is aware of the consequences for betrayal. I should hear from Kwong Chou shortly. I will know then how best to discuss this event with McGarrett.

Ling could see that his superior was disturbed and contemplating the next move as effectively as one would a chess match. And is that not what this is: an elaborate game of strategy where the winner takes all?

Wo turned with a placid smile towards his subordinate. "You are to be commended for your resourcefulness, Tu. Recommendation will be spoken for you in this affair. Your information about McGarrett and Polski may have saved our mission after all. Now, go back to China and await our next call."

Ling bowed once, then back out of the doorway.


Kono met Chin's plane shortly past 4:00 PM. Compared to the hustle-bustle of Honolulu, Hilo was very quiet and rural. Even the airport had an atmosphere that said time was not measured too closely here and if you took your shoes off and walked through downtown no one would even notice.

"How you doin', Bruddah?" Chin asked noting how exhausted Kono appeared. He has probably been awake nearly three days. He needs to sleep. "No flight back until morning. Do you have a place to sleep?"

"Under a tree will do me just fine," Kono said with a grin. "I think Polski is lookin' for a deep hole somewhere. He ain't found it yet. He was drinkin' a beer on Kekuanaoa Street about fifteen minutes ago. And we ain't the only ones lookin' for him either. There's an Aisin guy I've spotted in the area no less that five times today."

"Must be one of the China agents," Chin commented. "Dangerous to him -- and to us. Why don't you go find that piece of grass under the tree, I'll follow Polski and get back to you later."

Kono offered no argument . He walked away into the nearby park, sat down under a palm, and reclined against its trunk.

Chin, feeling satisfied that he had given his partner a much needed break, went in search of Polski. He was surprised to find him just where Kono had indicated. For a trained spy he isn't very smart -- unless he's waiting for someone here. Who would that be? Maybe he is expecting a contact to get him out of here. And who is that guy Kono saw? By now Wo and his people know the missile plan is a fake. The CIA did not think Polski was important. Chin gave an audible sigh.

Polski left the bar, glancing around himself to see if the same face was showing up. He'd been nervous about a large Hawaiian man whom he'd seen several times throughout the day, but now he was gone. Maybe it wasn't the same guy; maybe they just all look alike. He grinned inwardly at his little joke. I need to find Masters and get his boat to get me out of here. He was supposed to be at the bar, but didn't show. He wandered down towards the waterfront where Masters' boat was tied up, but Masters was nowhere to be seen. He questioned a few people, most seemed to know who Masters was, but none knew where he had gone. Not far without his boat. It was six o'clock, certainly the man would show soon. Polski hung around the dock for a while, then noticed a tall oriental man he remembered from earlier in the day. Carefully dropping behind a cart hauling melons, he used it for cover to move away from the wharf. The maneuver was so effective, it almost lost Chin. Needing to choose whether to confront the other follower, or stay with Polski, he chose to stay with Polski. He would have Kono corner the other guy later and uncover his identity.

The sun was now slowly dropping towards the sea as the time was approaching seven PM.

A police car went by Chin with its siren blaring, headed for the beach. Then the civil defense siren sounded. A few people stopped in alarm. Such sirens were always paid heed to here.

Another police car went by more slowly. "Attention. Attention. This is a tsunami warning. Please tune to your radio station for instructions. This is not a drill. Please to not run, there is no need to panic. Gather your important papers and move to high ground. There will be civil defense personnel to assist you...." The car moved off down the street.

Immediately, some people began to run for their families. Others began to argue about the need to do anything. A few clustered around the TV in the shop window of an appliance store. There was an anchorman on the screen in black and white describing the events and Chin stopped to listen.

"....has confirmed that there is a possibility of a tsunami on the shores of Hilo. Civil defense is advising everyone to collect their important papers and move their families to the high ground areas inland that have been set up as centers. There are civil defense officers to assist people in finding these locations. The areas are also listed inside your phone books. The Red Cross will be there to help anyone who needs bedding or supplies. Please remember to take all necessary medications, infant formula, and diapers. It may be as long as two days before you can return to your homes. Do not, repeat, do not go down to the beach area. The tsunami is expected to strike land around midnight. There is time, but do not delay. Move quietly and quickly."

End part 5

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