The CDC and the hazardous materials response team arrived promptly. They collected every last one of the giveaway bags and decontaminated the scene thoroughly.
All teenagers who may have been exposed to the smallpox virus were temporarily quarantined and vaccinated. Thankfully, none of them showed acute symptoms on the spot, so things looked under control.
Once the dust settled, one particular individual—who had always claimed to hate tropical islands—couldn't wait to rush back to Hawaii.
Of course, as Danny explained, "Five-O" was currently down to just Kono holding the fort, which left him understandably worried. Still, Jack convinced him and Chen Hao to stay one more night.
Together with the NCIS crew, they shared a hearty dinner at Jack's place and polished off the last bottle of Jack's prized American ginseng-infused liquor in Los Angeles.
That bottle had been one of the three to survive a basement explosion a while back. One had been given to Rossi, another to old man Hunter. This was the third.
After their guests left, Jack and Danny remained on the porch facing the backyard, sipping cold beer. Chen Hao had retreated to the guest room upstairs under the pretense of video chatting with his cousin Kono, tactfully giving the "uncle and nephew" pair some space.
The backyard of Jack's newly rebuilt home was still rather barren. The surviving fruit trees had all been transplanted to the Wolf brothers' farm—next door to the plot technically owned by Hanna. According to rumors, the trees were thriving and had even begun bearing fruit.
Maybe it was the drinks, but Danny, now a bit tipsy and stretched out on the rocking chair, fell silent for a long while before letting out a sigh.
"I don't know what all you've been through these past few years... but seeing your life now—it's hard not to feel a little jealous."
Jack remembered the small bachelor pad Danny lived in back in Hawaii. No kitchen, nothing cozy. After the divorce, it was clear Danny's life hadn't been particularly smooth. He considered his words before replying.
"Maybe, besides work and being there for Grace, you should start trying to find something else to enjoy in life.
Your daughter's gonna grow up one day. She'll leave home and make a life of her own. If you could talk yourself into enduring life on an annoying tropical island just for her... why not take it a step further and try to actually enjoy it?"
Danny looked a little dazed, as if lost in memory, then chuckled and shook his head. "You're not the first person to tell me that. Someone else once said something similar to me."
"Your partner?" Jack had been a little disappointed that he hadn't gotten to meet Steve McGarrett during his Hawaii trip.
"No. It was your father. Back before my divorce with Rachel, he told me almost the exact same thing. Something like, 'Danny, you can't just focus on work. Family is a man's foundation. You've gotta learn how to find the balance.'"
Danny paused, his tone filled with emotion. "He was a wise guy. Always had a way with women too—he'd talk about weird stuff like 'emotional value.'"
"You mean things like 'don't just take, and don't always please others'?" Jack recalled a rare passage in the original Jack's journal, one of the few where his parents were mentioned.
"He said that to you too?" Danny's face lit up with nostalgia. It seemed Jack's father had left a bigger impression than he expected.
"That guy always knew what he wanted and always made the right calls. Like when he left his family and brought your mom here to L.A.
When Zoe told me all the stuff you'd been through, honestly, I wasn't surprised at all. You're the kind of guy who owns his fate."
"Ahem." Jack coughed lightly, a bit self-conscious, then raised his beer. "I just got lucky, is all."
They talked late into the night. The next morning, Jack drove Danny and Chen Hao to the airport for their flight back to Hawaii. Danny was still nursing a hangover.
Jack himself was preparing to return to New York for New Year's Eve with his friends. Their task force had completed its latest manhunt around the same time—though not without lasting emotional scars.
Word was that even seasoned agent Jubal had been deeply affected. The New Year's party they'd planned? Canceled.
They'd been working a case in Allentown, Pennsylvania, tracking down an arsonist and two amateur killers. But as the investigation progressed, the case veered into bizarre territory.
First, they discovered that the two supposed amateurs—a man and a woman—were actually the real arsonists. The male suspect, Todd Carter, had been a firefighter with the Allentown Fire Department. The woman, Vicky Brokaw, had been a dispatcher.
They'd been hired to burn down a family-owned entertainment center and, by chance, ran into two unexpected people on-site: William Duncan, the manager of the center, and Ramon Laos, a repairman called in to fix a few arcade machines.
Ramon had brought his young son, Michael, who was not yet ten years old.
The one who'd hired Todd and Vicky was none other than William Duncan's father, Fred Duncan Jr. The family entertainment center was just one part of the Duncan family's business empire. The fire was an insurance scam.
But things went sideways. When the arsonists arrived—believing the building to be empty—they were startled to find William and the Laos father and son inside.
Todd Carter, evidently unhinged, pulled a gun and tried to eliminate witnesses. William Duncan was critically injured. Ramon and his young son were killed.
Then, after the fire was set and the killers fled the scene, someone else entered the burning building.
A mystery figure.
This person somehow left behind a cryptic message embedded inside one of the vintage 1980s arcade machines: "Sicarius"—Latin for "assassin."
Thanks to the injured William Duncan, who survived and later served as a witness, the task force was able to rule out this mysterious visitor as the primary perpetrator. Their investigation confirmed Todd and Vicky's identities, and a warrant was issued for their vehicle.
Meanwhile, veteran agent Jubal had a hunch and followed the money trail—uncovering the insurance fraud.
William Duncan had a severe drug problem and was $200,000 in debt from gambling. The Duncan family, despite still owning various entertainment facilities across the East Coast—bowling alleys, amusement centers, mini theme parks, and go-kart tracks—was struggling.
Even $200,000 was a painful sum for Fred Duncan Jr. So he decided to torch one of their smaller properties to claim insurance. But his greed nearly killed his own son—and cost two innocent lives.
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