A Matter of Trust
by Peg Keeley


Part 3

An exhausted Ben Lu sat huddled over the small kitchen table, a pencil clutched so tightly in his hand that his fingers were white. It had been 35 minutes. He slowly lay down the pencil and, as he did, Gorek snatched up the paper.

"Is this real?" he demanded spinning to the short dark-haired newcomer.

Jan Schroeder straightened his glasses and examined the lines, and numbers. His brow knit and he uttered an occasional grunt as he studied the paper. "It is so simple a school child could design this."

Gorek turned on Lu with a snarl and the captive cringed against the table.

Jan touched Gorek's arm. "But you never know -- these Americans can be very simple people."

Gorek glared at Jan. "Yes or no."

He winced. "Maybe."

Uttering a grunt of frustration, Gorek yanked Lu up from the table and stormed back to Danny's prison. He noticed that Danny's leg wound had bled more and that the kidnapped officer looked pale in spite of his tan. "Williams," he snapped.

The bruises on Danny's face had swollen both eyes so that when he opened them, they were little more than slits. The whites were blood red giving him a mildly demonic appearance.

Gorek stuck out the drawing. "Is it true or false?"

Danny blinked, trying to see through the edematous tissue. "I don't know anything about this," he whispered.

"You tell me truthfully or I will kill Mr. Lu," Gorek said calmly.

Kachan rose, drew his gun and began to screw on the silencer.

Lu issued a whimper, memories of six other killings flashing before him.

If I tell them this is right, when they know it is not, they may kill Ben as they said. If I tell the truth, they may still kill him -- or me. Locked in a scenario with no good outcome, he gritted his teeth. "No. It's not right."

Gorek sighed. "Mr. Lu, after all this time you still would lie to me? You think I cannot find another person, that he is the last? You are wrong, Mr. Lu. I shall bring your six year old daughter in here next -- I will have the truth!" His voice had risen until he was shouting. He stopped a glanced at Kachan. "Shoot him."

Kacahan lined up on Danny, but at the same instant he fired, Lu with a shriek like a wild man, threw himself forward. The shot intended for Danny's head struck Lu in the neck. There was a brilliant spray of blood as the architect-agent collapsed across the bed, eyes wide. He twitched once, then was still. The three men froze momentarily, all stunned by the unexpected turn of events.

Kachan slowly glanced at Gorek in a mix of awe and fear, keeping the weapon in his hand. He gingerly stepped past Gorek and unemotionally pulled Lu back off the bed by the shirt collar. The body thudded to the floor where Kachan fired another bullet into his head.

Gorek clenched his fist in momentary anger. "What a stupid man!"

"Smart man," Danny whispered. "You cannot threaten his child if he is dead."

Gorek kicked the bed frame in fury and the jarring sent a wave of agony up Danny's leg. "Do not think too much of your value," he remarked to Danny. "You life may just have become much more complicated. Do not be mistaken, Mr. Lu may not have done you any favors." He spun on his heel and started up the hallway.

Kachan chased after him. "Wilhelm, Williams is now more trouble than he is worth. Let me relieve us of him."

Gorek stared at an invisible distant object. "I need, him. Andrei. We will leave and take him with us in place of Lu for now. You may get your wish in a day or two, but in the mean time mark my words -- he is dangerous. It took you three days to capture him. Keeping him may be more difficult than capturing him was. Contact Schroeder. He and Drosnins need to get the boat. Meet us there according to the plan."

"What about Keaver?"

"He has served his usefulness. Leave his payment." Gorek slammed the door on his way out.

By the time Kachan re-entered the bedroom, Danny had already reasoned that he might not get one-on-one odds again and decided to act. He wasn't sure exactly how bad his leg was, but hoped that somehow he could walk or run on it if necessary. First to get this moose to untie me. "Hey, you!" he yelled at Kachan, "I want to use the can."

Kachan hesitated as he tucked his gun back into his belt and placed the silencer on top of the small dresser in the room.

"You've either gotta let me use the can -- or your gonna have to do the honors over here," Danny persisted, praying the Russian would be too proud to consider providing bedside service.

As Danny had hoped, Andrei looked at him in disgust. "You better have no tricks, or I will be explaining to Wilhelm why I had to shoot his prime source." He untied Danny's legs, then his arms. "Get up." He placed his hand on the gun butt in his belt.

As Danny rolled to rise, his leg felt like fire. It was much worse than he had hoped. When he stood, his head swam and he reached out touching the wall to steady himself. He carefully eased himself around Lu's body, pulling himself along the wall. He was unable to put weight on the left leg at all.

Kachan seemed satisfied by the limited ability of his prisoner. "End of the hall," he instructed.

The bath was little more than a closet. There was no way out. Kachan came up inches behind Danny, scrutinizing each movement.

Danny balanced himself carefully on his good right leg.

"Hurry up," Andrei complained.

"All right." He slammed his elbow back, catching Kachan off guard in the stomach. Kachan gasped and bent double as Danny swung around, grabbing the gun from the Russian's belt with his left hand.

Issuing an oath in Russian, Kachan came back, clawing for the gun, throwing his full weight forward. They both landed on the floor, wedged between the toilet and the tub still in a life and death grapple for the tokarev. There was an ear-shattering blast as the gun went off, piercing the toilet tank which fragmented, spraying water everywhere. Danny got his right knee up and pushed Andrei back with a fierce kick. Kachan fell into the hall but did not release his grip on Danny's hands and so pulled him over in a somersault. Danny got one hand free and slammed it into Kachan's nose, adding more blood to the amount already flowing freely between them. As they fought, the gun discharged again, blasting a large hole in the ceiling. The weapon popped loose and skidded down the wet hall, both of them leaping and slipping after it. Danny reached it first, but at the same instant, Andrei came down solidly with both knees on the inured left leg.

Danny gave a cry of agony, let go of the gun as his hands flew to his leg.

Kachan, snatched up the gun instantly and, in rage, rammed the gun barrel under Danny's jaw so hard it cut off his breath. "It is only Gorek that keeps me from sending you to hell right now!" He jabbed Danny's leg wound against in sadistic fury.

"Oh God! Stop it!" Danny gasped through the stranglehold, writhing in pain.

"You gonna beg and plead for death when I finish with you!" Kachan drew back his arm and pistol-whipped his victim across the face, sending him slamming into the wall and unconsciousness.

Keaver had taken his time getting the lunch. He needed to rethink his situation with Kachan and Gorek. He now approached the tenement carrying a bag of hamburgers and munching on fries. Tomorrow he would insist Kachan pay him and he would split. Just vanish. Gorek was too dangerous a guy to fool with. Every person Keaver had seen come in contact with the German was dead. Al's better judgment told him not to return now, but he needed the money Andrei owed him.

"Hey, got your dinner!" he called opening the door. "Anybody here?" He closed it. The room exploded, breaking windows and knocking out the door.

McGarrett stepped carefully around the police barricades, Chin and Ben at his heels. Officers were milling about on the sidewalk and through the two-story tenement placing little flags and plastic bags amongst the possible pieces of evidence. Frightened tenants stood behind the barriers staring in shock at their damaged building.

Kono had been interviewing a young girl clutching a crying baby that was dressed just in a diaper. He turned away from her and followed Steve and the others inside the building. "Upstairs," Kono offered.

The directions had been unnecessary. The hallway still smelled of smoke and gunpowder. Large fire hoses were snaked up the stairway and water was drizzling down the steps. The fire marshal gave the thumbs up sign for them to go up.

"Explosion was at 3:15PM," Kono reported as he panted up the stairs. "Girl outside said she heard something like gun shots about 30 minutes before that."

Steve paused and glanced back at him. "Gun shots?"


"She didn't call the police?"

Kono shrugged. "Guess she thought it was none of her business -- till the place blew up."

The wall in the corridor outside the apartment was scorched from the small fire the explosion had started. Inside, fortunately, was flame free. Keaver's body was sprawled against the kitchen table.

"Have a name?" Steve asked.

The officer standing nearby handed him a wallet. "Albert Keaver."

Steve glanced at the license.

"History of small stuff, nothing major," the officer continued.

"Gorek has maintained his MO," came a voice as Camp walked up the hallway from the bedroom. He toed Keaver's body. "No loose ends. Must have been a little tight up here. Doesn't usually use anyone but his trusted few -- and certainly not Americans. Maybe he had a little trouble getting his people in to the Islands."

Ben and Kono blinked at Camp, not knowing who he was or why he was briefing Steve.

Steve was less than pleased that the CIA director had gotten to the scene before they had, but did not comment. Nor did he introduce Camp to his men. He exchanged looks with Chin.

Marten motioned into the narrow passage between the kitchen and the bedroom. "Signs of a struggle."

Steve noticed the water on the floor, blood on the walls. There was a hole in the ceiling from a bullet. He allowed Camp to lead the way, noting more blood on the walls, the shattered commode in the bathroom. As they stepped into the bedroom, he saw the body of Ben Lu.

Camp had been friends with Lu, but Steve could detect nothing of emotion as he gestured to the body. "Took two -- one to the head, one to the neck. Real messy. Neck one was first."

Steve examined the dead man. There was almost no blood from the head wound. "Let's find the slugs," he remarked.

Chin was frowning at the rumpled bed and the bloody sheets. "I'll call Che."

Steve nodded, wiping his hands. "Plenty of evidence." He stepped closer to the bed and noted the scratches on the posts. "Someone was tied up here. Marks on all four posts."

"No rope marks on Lu," Camp commented.

Steve met the gaze, but gave no response. "I want this Gorek. I want his photo, his MO, what he has for breakfast. Everything. You know this bastard. Get me something I can use."

Camp pursed his lips, gave a nod, and left the apartment.

"Who is that?" Ben asked.

"A PI," Steve remarked.

Ben scowled, knowing that Steve would never bring a private investigator into a Five-0 matter, but also aware that Steve wasn't going to give him a straight answer. He felt free to hold Camp in open suspicion.

Chin had stepped aside to accept information from an officer. He now came back to Steve. "Guy from the apartment downstairs recognized one." He held up Kachan's photo.

Steve set his jaw. "Tear this place apart to the beams if necessary. I don't know how good these guys are at disappearing, but no one can vanish completely. They left in broad daylight and they had to go somewhere. Let's find them."

Gorek, if he had vanished, had reappeared in a 38 foot yacht in the Waikiki Marina, moored fifty yards out into the bay. He sat on the afterdeck appreciating the warm tropical sun placidly listening to Kachan's tale. At the conclusion, Gorek waved a warning finger. "I warned you about him."

Kachan put aside the towel and ice he'd been holding to his bruised nose. "Well, he won't try that again," he remarked gruffly.

"Well," Gorek sipped his drink, "at least not very soon."

Jan Schroeder had been sitting on the gunwale listening to the exchange. "Well, Gorek, what shall you do now?"

Gorek squinted at him. "The mission is not yet complete. We do not yet have all that we need to acquire the records of Politickov. We are entitled to that data, it was stolen from us and we will get it. We must come back with information for accessing the security structure."

"If the Americans know about this, they will move the data, or change the security," Schroeder argued.

"They do not know. They will not know."

Schroeder shook his head. "They may already know! They have two bodies: Shang and Lu. It will only be a matter of time for them to put this together."

Gorek snorted. "We are dealing with little local law men."

"We are dealing with Steve McGarrett -- of ONI. Did you real the file on him? I have. Let Kachan have his thrill. Let him kill Williams, dump the body at sea and let's get out of here."

Gorek slammed his fist on the arm of the chair. "I will not fail! I will not be dictated to by a coward. There is still time and I shall take very moment I have."

"Time? What time?" Schroeder argued. "There is no time. If McGarrett is on to you it is already too late. We must cut our loses and go. As for Williams, he will die before he tells you anything. It is unfortunate about Lu. He was the better choice."

Gorek stormed away across the small boat to the foredeck to avoid Schroeder. He did not like the younger field agent. Schroeder was forgetting his place when he attempted to lecture to a man that'd been in this game longer than Schroeder had been alive. Schroeder wants everything safe. It is be best when it is not safe.

McGarrett strolled through the peaceful botanical garden inwardly anything but peaceful. It was early morning. Cries of birds and the wind touching the leaves added to the tranquility and serenity around him. He pretended to read the tourist's guide, but his jaw muscles were flexing. Where is Mason anyway?


He turned to see the small, thin man of Japanese descent standing nearby. "Clarence Mason?"

Mason did not turn to face him. "It is not good for my reputation to be seen with you."

Steve continued to look down at the brochure. "I didn't drag you into my office, did I?"

"That would not have been productive," Mason formed each syllable with care. "What do you want?"

"I believe you already know," Steve said quietly.

"Hum. My medical license was lifted two years ago. The State of Hawaii decided I was not fit to practice medicine. Is the state now reversing that opinion?"

"You lost your license, but Dan Williams kept you from serving hard time. Fifteen years at your age would have be a considerable part of your life," Steve remarked.

Mason smiled gently. "This is true -- but Williams is not making the request, you are."

McGarrett dared to look at the former doctor. "Don't play games with me, Mason. This is not my mark I am calling and you know it. You owe Danny a big one."

"Not this big."

"Danny is injured, bleeding substantially from the looks of it. If Gorek wants to keep him alive, and I think he does, he will come looking for you -- he has to. When he does, you'll do as he says: Keep Williams alive. But leave me a trail."

Mason gazed at the floral scenery. "I am a good doctor, McGarrett. I continue a modest effort in spite of your harassment."

Steve cast a sideways glare at him. "Mason, stop playing Mother Theresa. You went to jail for pushing drugs and insurance fraud, not to mention treating a murderer's gunshot wound without reporting it."

"In spite of what you might think, I do have ethics," Mason said a calmly as if Steve had just complimented him. "I do not choose to let someone die -- regardless of their legal situation. If you had a heart attack right in front of me this minute, I might even try to save you." He cracked a fleeting smile. "I will, of course, try to save Williams because that is what I do, not because you demand it. And you are right -- I do owe him. Freedom is a sweet thing to be cherished." He took a deep breath.

Steve stood in silence for a moment, recalling Danny's appeal to the parole board on the behalf of Mason over Steve's objection. Mason had cancer -- inoperable -- he had about a year left to live.

"If there is anyone for whom I would forfeit my life, it would be Williams. And that is likely to be exactly what I am doing. If Gorek even suspects I am double-crossing him, he will kill me."

"Well, I'm a lot closer to you right now than he is," Steve remarked, unimpressed by Mason's speech.

Mason gave another simple smile and a shrug. "Ah, but you are bound by the law -- you are the law."

"No man is the law, Mason, not even me. And everyone has a point at which he will go past the law -- even me."

Mason stopped and turned to look Steve full in the face. "Williams means a lot to you -- even more than I had imagined." He turned back to the view again. "Very well, I shall do all I can for you, but there are conditions."

"Name it."

"I am ill. I have a son who is in high school. The boy does not even know who I am, but his mother does keep me informed. I want the funds for his college."


"I want the governor to give him a full scholarship."

"I don't think I can arrange that," Steve muttered.

"I am certain you can," Mason said with confidence. "His mother will contact you. One more thing."

Steve bit his cheek.

"If, by some miracle, I live through this I want complete immunity -- regardless of the outcome."

McGarrett started to protest.

"You don't understand this thing, McGarrett. It has already been over 36 hours. It may be too late already. I don't want you blaming me. And I want protection from Gorek and his people -- if such a thing is possible. Perhaps your friends in government can get me into the witness protection plan. I hear southern Florida is nice."

"Anything else?"

Mason gave a forced grin. "I believe we understand each other."

"Yes, I think so."

"I will attempt to communicate to you by leaving a series of 'x's from one to four. I get to four and you had better make any move you can. I cannot promise you anything else."


Mason moved off towards the pathway. "Pardon me if I do not shake your hand." And he was gone.

Danny has spent most of his second day of captivity being lulled in and out of consciousness by the gentle lapping of waives against the hull of the boat. He knew they were not moving, but wasn't sure they hadn't traveled before he had regained consciousness the first time. Time dragged. His arms were tied behind his back in a most uncomfortable fashion and his elbows and shoulders throbbed. They were easily out done by the deep hot pain in his left leg. The swelling on the left side of his face reduced the vision from his left eye to just a slit, but the right was swollen completely shut.

As the day progressed, the small cabin became hot and stuffy. In spite of the temperature, Danny kept shivering from chills. About mid-afternoon, a stream of sunlight came in the far porthole and he could sense time of day as he tracked its way across the deck.

The sunbeam had just passed the midpoint of the deck when Gorek entered the cabin. He pulled up a canvas-folding chair and lowered his tall thin frame into it. "Well," he said casually, "so here we are."

Danny did not respond.

"I need not, I think, to remind you of your complicated situation. Mr. Lu, in his attempt to be heroic, has probably done you a great disservice. Nevertheless, we shall make the best of a bad thing." He relaxed back in the chair for a moment studying his captive. "Actually this entire exercise would not have been necessary had Mr. Lu not be allergic to the truth serum we used. More old-fashioned techniques had to be employed. Much more time consuming, but then your friend Andrei feels more at home using the old methods. I weary of this assignment, Williams. You and your -- injury -- have added another unfortunate complication. I can keep you alive, if I so desire. Kachan would like very much to do otherwise. You broke his nose, you know."

"What a shame," Danny commented dryly.

"You are going to give me what I want either by will or by force. The choice is yours."

Danny tried to move, but his restricted arms made greater comfort impossible. "Know what I think? You're in a bind. You screwed up. Your bosses wanted the plans for that security facility yesterday. You don't like them being unhappy. Aren't used to this kind of mess, are you? That's what you get when you hire cheap help."

Gorek betrayed none of his inner anger and resisted the sudden urge to punch Williams' already bruised face.

"You are looking for a facility that doesn't exist," Danny continued. "No high security facility."

Gorek shook his head, indignation rising in his expression and tone. "No, it is there. I have seen the photos."

"That building just houses old documents and such," Danny persisted. "Your physicist, anything he might have known -- not there."

Gorek clenched and unclenched his left fist resting on the arm of the chair.

Good, he wonders if what I am saying is truth. Maybe there is a hope in all of this. Danny tried to keep his mind on his argument instead of his pain. It was difficult to do. "Where did you find me? Not working for the CIA. Wonder why?"

Gorek's eyes narrowed.

"You must never trust them. Not CIA, not KGB. They will tell you lies. I left because I wanted to trust again. Can you trust, uh? Maybe they sent you on this impossible mission to be rid of you. Maybe?"

Gorek's fury was growing by the moment.

Danny let silence provide Gorek an opportunity to think.

Wilhelm issued a slow smile. "You are good, Herr Williams - very good." He waved a finger. "So, if my people are lying, what is in that building?"

"Old documents -- maybe supply requisitions, pay roll history, toilet paper."

"Toilet paper," Gorek said softly, then gave a quiet chuckle. "Toilet paper?" he repeated a little more loudly. "So you say this joke is on me? Then I say this joke may also be on you. No matter." He rose and turned towards the door. "Drosnins!"

A head appeared.

"Pentathol please."

Drosnins made a face. "This is a waste," he remarked, but vanished to obey.

Danny a small grin in spite of his pain. "It's gonna be a waste of time, there is nothing of value I can tell you, but I can use the pain relief -- so have at it."

The night crept softly over the harbor. Occasional boat horns broke the peaceful silence and light shimmered off the water. Karl Drosnins and his partner Jan Schroeder sat on the foredeck of Gorek's yacht playing cards. Gorek sat on a deck chair in the aft second sipping a beer, brooding and scanning the marina between their mooring and the wharf. Kachan had taken the dingy ashore three hours ago and not returned yet. He was slightly overdue.

Drosnins came back and headed below deck. He was back a moment later. He stopped before Wilhelm, arms crossed in dissatisfaction. "This is a mistake," he announced. "The death of Lu was the death of the mission. We have failed."

Gorek eyed him quietly, smoldering rage just beneath the surface. "Unavoidable and unfortunate," he commented. "However, not failed yet."

"You mean Williams?" Karl answered in disgust. "The pentathol was a waste of time. A subject in pain like that. They all just bawl like babies then zonk out. He is still drugged. He may never awaken. Blood loss, shock, infection -- cut the losses and admit the failure."

"You think that is acceptable?" Gorek murmured. "Take the easy road?"

"This has been anything but easy," Karl answered. "That man is going to die before he tells you anything."

Gorek sipped his beer, having spotted the tiny green starboard running light of the dingy beginning its venture across the marina. "And do you have some kind of medical training that would make this judgment of yours valid?"

Karl scowled. "I am here on the part of the KGB to administrate this mission."

"Administrate," Gorek muttered, recalling Danny's accusation regarding lack of trust. Yes, my superiors trust no one, not each other, certainly not me. Administrate. "Then in the name of administration, you will appreciate my securing someone with a bit more professional medical knowledge to officiate this decision. Furthermore," his voice tightened as his rage began to break through, "I do not want your services here. I did not ask for them and do not need them. I have been in this business since before you were at your mother's breast."

"I do not believe I care for your tone," Karl replied, tensely. "I am not that peon Schroeder or that psycho Russian that I should answer to you. I work directly for Stasi. It would be well for you not the forget that. I may speak my mind freely. Williams is going to die and take whatever he knows with him unless you do something very soon."

"You do your job, I'll do mine," Gorek retorted. "I will take care of Williams and his secrets. You and Schroeder take care of getting us off this rock."

Drosnins turned and stomped up the ladder towards the flying bridge. "Where is Kachan anyway?"

"He is coming."

"He had better get here soon. I want to get under way."

"We will leave when I say we leave." Gorek waited until Karl had turned away and had both hands on the ladder to the bridge before calling to him. "Karl."

Karl turned back and froze in astonishment as he focused on the Luger pointed at him.

Gorek smiled peacefully. "I would like to add -- the sharks would not care whose government you had worked for. There will be no further warnings."

Minutes later that Gorek caught the towline from the dingy and made it fast as Kachan ushered Dr. Mason aboard the large yacht.

Mason glanced across the aft deck of the large yacht and gave a slight bow towards Gorek. "I trust I may be of some small service to you."

Gorek returned the gesture and motioned him in the direction of the cabin. "In there. Tell me how he is and if I can keep him alive."

Mason stepped down into the cabin and went to where Danny lie motionless on the cabin couch converted into bunk. He placed a hand on the officer's shoulder. "Williams, I was summoned to assist you," he said quietly.

Danny gave no response.

Mason examined the bruises, the three-inch long gash over his right eyebrow and then the purple, draining leg wound.

"Well," Gorek asked, aware that Karl and Andrei were both behind him.

"Your partner told me that you had Williams," Mason said carefully. "The newspaper erroneously had published his death -- perhaps to your good fortune. Mr. Kachan said he was in need of medical attention but I never imagined anything quite like this."

"Okay, so we have established your lack of creativity -- what's the answer?" Karl muttered impatiently.

Mason looked at him with mild amusement.

"Forgive my boorish friend," Gorek said pleasantly.

"To help him, I need him untied," Mason stated.

"No," Wilhelm replied bluntly.

"If I am to help, you must do as I say," the oriental doctor said gently.

"He stays tied," Gorek declared. "Do whatever else you can."

"You certainly do not expect him to get up and walk on water, do you?" Mason countered.

Karl sneered. "Maybe Wilhelm here thinks Williams is Jesus Christ, huh?"

Gorek leveled a searing glare on Drosnins. "Tied. That is my final word." He turned on his heel and left the cabin, Andrei with him.

Drosnins hesitated a moment longer. "Whatever Gorek has offered you I double if Williams is dead in 12 hours." He left.

Mason pulled over the canvas chair Gorek had used earlier and sat down next to Danny. There was a deep rumbling as the large inboard engines sparked to life. The boat was moving out of the marina. Mason peeked under Danny's eyelids with a penlight and made a small grunt. Pulling out bandage scissors, he slit the khaki material of Danny's left pant leg the rest of the way to the knee and cut out a large square to better inspect the wound. "I know you are conscious even though they do not," he murmured quietly.

Danny's left eye opened as much as it could. "Gorek sent for you?"


"Is it that bad?" He winced as Mason explored the leg wound.

"Worse. The femur is probably broken. As the broken bone moves, it continues to do more damage. The wound is badly infected." He glanced at Danny's face and gestured to the laceration over his right eye. "You have a hard head, too."

"Don't bother, Mason."

"If you stay still, it will hurt -- and bleed less." Mason finished cleaning out the leg. He drew up a dose of antibiotics into a syringe and injected it deeply into Danny's arm. "Painful injection, sorry," Mason remarked.

Danny blinked back the tears. "Didn't feel it, doc. Maybe you'd better take Karl up on his offer. Better for both of us."

Beneath the deck, the engines throbbed to full power. The boat had cleared the marina.

Mason gave Danny a second injection this time of morphine. "Rest for now." He rose and walked out of the cabin up on deck were the cool sea breeze of the evening was refreshing.

"Well?" Gorek approached him. "How is he?"

"Not very good," Mason admitted. "You should have contacted me earlier."

"Just fix him up so he doesn't bleed to death."

Mason shook his head. "It is very bad. If you move him, it is worse. The bone in the leg is broken. I cannot stop the bleeding without setting the bone. I must have an operating room for that. And there is the infection which is more likely to kill him than the bleeding." Mason placed his hands on the railing and looked back at the harbor they were leaving behind. "Why Williams of all people? Do you know what you have done? McGarrett knows he is alive, knows he is injured and that it is you. He is furious."

"Good," Gorek said with a nod. "Furious men do not think clearly."

"But this is McGarrett you are talking about," Mason persisted.

"McGarrett…McGarrett. I have heard this from you, from Kachan -- like he is some kind of super-hero. What is there about this McGarrett?"

"He is not confined to a comic book like a child's super-hero. He is the law of Hawaii. He is a thinker -- especially when he is angered. He has all the muscle of this state at his disposal. He is not a man I would play poker with. And I would not want him furious with me."

"Well, you are in this now, Mason, just as deeply as the rest of us." Gorek patted the physician on the shoulder. "You must keep me up to date what you think this McGarrett's moves will be."

End Part 3

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