epilogue to: HOOKMAN



Gina Martin


McGarrett sat at his desk and turned the evidence bag around in his hands. Compelled to look at the weapon, still, it sent chills down his spine to study the rifle and read the nameplate there:


The bullet with his name on it. The gun with his name on it.

No question Curt Stoner was a lunatic. Murderer several times over. Cop killer. The madman had done everything possible to make sure McGarrett was taken down in series of personal vendettas. [episode -- HOOKMAN] Over ten years and three cops later the score was settled. And Stoner was dead. Bad guy three, good guys one. The score didn't read very even from this side of the badge.

Dropping the weapon on the desk McGarrett sighed and pushed out of the chair, moving out onto the lanai of his office. The sun was low on the horizon. King Street was clogged with quitting-time traffic. Just another day for most of Honolulu. Tomorrow would be another day. The first of three funerals for cops gunned down by a madman bent on revenge.

It could have been four, he reminded ruefully, grateful to be alive. Little consolation for some. What would he say to the widows and families of the murdered colleagues? He had been lucky? Stoner hadn't been good enough to take him down? Being the head of Five-0 he had been surrounded by talented, skilled officers who helped protect him and set a trap for the shooter. The twisted criminal was dead -- McGarrett was alive. An epitaph that could be placed on more than one gravestone in Hawaii.


Duke Lukela poked his head outside.

"Hi, Duke." McGarrett gave no inclination that he was ready to go back in. After a momentary hesitation the sergeant joined him on the lanai.

"Are you done with the evidence? I can take it down to the lab. I put my report on your desk."

Surrendering a nod, McGarrett walked back inside the cool office. "Thanks, Duke." Back to business as usual, he inwardly sighed, thankful for the disruption to his mortal thoughts. "I guess you can call it a day."

Also fascinated by the weapon, Lukela picked up the bagged rifle. "Close call today, Steve."

"Yeah," McGarrett breathed quietly, plopping down in his chair. "Stoner really wanted to add my name to the list."

"Glad he didn't."

"So am I," Dan Williams added as he joined them. As the sergeant had, Williams displayed a fascination for the rifle and observed it over Duke's shoulder. Finally the sergeant handed it over to the younger detective. "Stoner was a good shot."

Steve stared at the long barrel and the scratch marks on the metal, marks made by Stoner's metal hooks. Again he shivered as he looked at his name on the gold plate. "You're a better one I'm glad to say, Danno. Mahalo."

"You're welcome. I'm just glad it's over. Cop killer." He shook his head and stared out the open lanai. "He was pretty scary." With a sigh he handed the rifle back to Lukela. "Score one for the good guys."

McGarrett offered a nod of agreement. He looked around the scenic grounds, smelled the clean breeze, reveled in the warm sun. He was certainly grateful his team -- Danno's sharp shooting -- had pulled him through. It was a good day to be alive. Score one for the good guys.