The North Shore was waking slow that Monday — first light catching the break, a few early surfers paddling out, food trucks setting up for tourists. Beau Walker had been awake for hours. He stood outside his small rental, steaming coffee in hand, boots on, Zeus stretched at his feet. The dog's ears flicked toward every car that passed but otherwise stayed relaxed.
The last few days had been a whirlwind: the gun-running bust, Kono's reinstatement, and the long, quiet talk they'd had about keeping things simple. Friends. Partners. Benefits when the walls slipped. No promises — but no awkwardness either. Somehow, it worked.
Beau scratched behind Zeus's ear. "New week, boy."
The Malinois groaned, pleased.
His phone buzzed. A message from Steve McGarrett:
0700. HQ. Briefing.
Beau smiled faintly — SEAL time. He drained the mug, grabbed his gear, and whistled Zeus into the Bronco.
HQ Morning
Five-0 Headquarters hummed with Monday energy: Chin at his desk with files, Danny already pacing with a coffee, Steve bent over the big table. Kono leaned against a pillar, reading a tablet, looking every bit the confident detective again.
She glanced up as Beau and Zeus entered. For a half-second something softened in her expression — warm, private — then she tucked it away. Professional. He tipped his ballcap slightly in greeting; she smirked just enough for him to notice.
Danny noticed too, but only enough to squint and mutter, "Cowboys don't do mornings?"
Beau set Zeus's harness bag down. "We're here."
"Barely," Danny grumbled.
Steve cut in before Danny could dig deeper. "We've got a body in the dunes at Mokuleʻia. Male, 30s, Mexican national. HPD thinks cartel — tattoos, execution style."
Chin's brows rose. "Cartel on Oʻahu?"
"Looks like," Steve said. "Victim's an accountant who stole a pile of cash from the Sinaloa organization. Rumor says he ran to Hawaiʻi to hide. Someone found him first."
Danny sighed. "Great. Sunshine, beaches, and headless bodies."
Steve ignored him. "We need to find out who's hunting here before it turns into a war zone. Walker — your Intel contacts?"
"I can shake a few trees," Beau said evenly. "Spanish-language networks, maybe a buddy at DIA owes me."
"Good," Steve nodded. "You and Kono take the scene with HPD. Chin, run financials. Danny with me — visit our Fed friends."
"Lovely," Danny muttered.
Road to Mokuleʻia
Kono tossed her gear into the Bronco and slid into the passenger seat. "So… partners."
Beau smirked slightly as he pulled out. "That's what the boss said."
She gave him a sideways look. "We good?"
"Yeah," he said simply. "Work's work. No drama."
She relaxed. "Good."
Zeus, sprawled in back, let out a low groan like agreement. Kono laughed quietly and reached back to scratch his head. "Still can't believe you got a K-9 cleared for the task force."
"Steve signed off quick when he saw what Zeus can do," Beau said.
"And last night at Steve's — Grace adores him."
"He's a softie off duty," Beau admitted.
"Sounds like someone else I know," she teased lightly.
He didn't rise to it, just smiled faintly and kept his eyes on the road.
Crime Scene
HPD had cordoned off a strip of remote dunes where the body lay half-buried in sand. The trade wind pushed fine grains across footprints. Detective Kaleo met them.
"Male, early 30s," Kaleo reported. "Tat sleeve — cartel symbols. Two rounds to the back of the head. Wallet gone."
Kono crouched beside the body, studying entry wounds. "Clean execution. Professional."
Beau scanned the area, noting tire tracks half-covered by shifting sand. He snapped photos, then released Zeus with a low command: "Such."
The Malinois sniffed along the tire trail, then veered toward scrub. Beau followed, eyes narrowing.
"Got something?" Kono called.
"Tracks to a side road," Beau said. "SUV, heavy tread. Maybe 4Runner or Prado."
HPD techs snapped photos as well.
Kono rose, dusting sand off her knees. "If the cartel's here, they're organized."
"They'll have safehouses," Beau said. "Money runners need quiet spots."
"Think your contacts can help?"
"Worth a call."
Intel Calls
Back at the Bronco, Beau dialed an old Navy Intel buddy. Spanish flowed easily between them, Beau slipping into fluent, relaxed slang. Kono listened, impressed but pretending not to be.
When he hung up, he said, "Name was Luis Ortega — mid-tier accountant for Sinaloa. Stole five mil last year. Cartel sent a cazador team to hunt him. My guy says two shooters flew in from Baja last week using fake IDs. Likely more support here."
"Great," Kono muttered. "Cartel vacation."
"They won't stop until money's back," Beau said. "Or until we stop them."
She looked at him curiously. "You sound… personal."
He shrugged. "Intel ran plenty on these crews. They're efficient. Ugly efficient."
HPD Info Drop
Steve checked in via comms. "Danny and I got confirmation from DEA — small Sinaloa cell using Oʻahu as mid-Pacific refuel stop. No big ops, just quiet money movement. Until Ortega."
"Tracks fit," Beau said. "SUV headed east from scene. We'll canvass side roads."
"Careful," Steve warned. "These guys don't play."
Beau's voice was dry. "Neither do we."
Danny cut in: "Yeah but we're supposed to arrest them, not start a war."
"Copy," Beau said, but his faint smile suggested otherwise.
Kono chuckled quietly once comms went silent. "You and Danny are gonna be best friends."
"Sure we are," Beau deadpanned.
Partner Vibes
They drove deeper into farmland roads, scanning for isolated rentals or shacks. Kono finally said, "You're good at this. Intel stuff."
"Did it long enough," Beau said.
"Why leave?"
He thought a beat. "Wanted to stop reacting to wars someone else started. Five-0's more… direct."
Kono studied him sidelong. "Makes sense."
Silence stretched, easy now. Whatever awkwardness they'd feared after their night together had settled into something workable — comfortable, even. Partners who happened to know each other a little too well.
First Clue
Zeus suddenly perked up, nose twitching. Beau slowed the Bronco and pulled off on a sandy track toward an abandoned plantation house half-hidden by kiawe trees. Windows boarded, but fresh tire marks scored the dirt.
Kono eyed it. "Could be them."
"Could be," Beau agreed. He parked out of sight and killed the engine.
They both checked sidearms and tac vests. Zeus quivered, ready.
Kono smirked faintly. "First field day since reinstatement. Feels good."
Beau gave a small nod. "Let's make it count."
They moved toward the house in silence, SEAL and detective falling into smooth rhythm.
The plantation house looked like it hadn't seen a family in decades. Sun-bleached paint peeled from boards, kiawe trees clawed at the roof, and broken shutters rattled in the trade wind. But Beau saw the signs that mattered: tire ruts still damp from the night rain, one window pried open recently, footprints in the sand where the porch sagged.
He signaled to Kono with two fingers — slow, quiet. She nodded, slipping her pistol free.
Zeus crouched low at Beau's knee, every muscle coiled. At a whispered, "Voran," the dog crept ahead, nose to the ground, moving with uncanny silence.
They advanced to the porch. Boards creaked softly under boots but nothing stirred inside.
"Front door's ajar," Kono breathed.
Beau leaned close, voice barely sound. "We clear room by room. Watch windows."
She gave a single nod.
Entry
Beau eased the door open with his boot. Dusty air rolled out — but under it, a faint chemical tang. Gun oil. Someone had been here.
They moved in: long hallway, faded wallpaper, light leaking through broken slats. Zeus padded forward, nose working. His tail went stiff, body tense.
"Got scent," Beau whispered.
They moved toward the first room. A makeshift sleeping space: thin mattress, open duffel with men's clothes, water bottles, energy bars. No people.
Kono scanned, lips tight. "Recent."
Beau crouched, checked trash: fresh tortilla wrapper. "Hours, maybe less."
They cleared a kitchen next — propane stove, half-empty tequila bottle, maps of Oʻahu pinned to the wall with thumbtacks.
Kono traced a line on the map. "Harbors, rental houses, cash drop?"
Beau's eyes narrowed. "Looks like."
Zeus suddenly froze, ears forward. Low rumble.
Beau's instincts spiked. "Contact."
Ambush
The back door slammed. Two men burst in — bearded, tactical vests, AK variants up. Spanish barked: "¡Manos arriba!"
Beau shoved Kono sideways just as rounds shredded the wall where she'd been. They hit the floor hard, rolling behind a kitchen island. Zeus launched forward at a single sharp command — "Fass!" — and sank teeth into the first gunman's arm. The man screamed, weapon clattering.
Beau came up firing. Two rounds — center mass. The man dropped.
Kono pivoted, precise, and took a knee, firing three fast shots. The second gunman ducked back out the door, bullets sparking off wood.
"Cover!" Beau barked, and sprinted after, Zeus at his heel.
Yard Fight
Outside, the second man scrambled toward a waiting SUV. Beau fired twice — tires blew, vehicle sagged. The man spun, spraying wild return fire. Beau ducked behind a kiawe trunk, calm under the storm, and put one clean shot into the man's shoulder. He went down screaming.
Kono emerged fast, gun steady, covering Beau as he advanced.
Beau kicked the fallen man's weapon away, barked in Spanish, "¡Quieto!" (Don't move.) The man froze, bleeding but alive.
Kono came up, cuffs ready. "Nice work."
Beau knelt, cuffing the shooter. "This one's not local cartel — Baja accent."
"DEA was right," Kono muttered.
Zeus circled, low growl still in his throat until Beau gave the release. "Aus."
The dog backed off obediently but stayed between the man and the Bronco.
Quick Sweep
They searched the house fast: no more shooters, but evidence everywhere — ammo crates, burner phones, a ledger with coded payments, a photo of the dead accountant Ortega pinned with a knife.
Kono flipped a cheap prepaid phone open. "Texts in Spanish — hits confirmed, cash drop Waikīkī."
Beau grabbed a duffel: bricks of cash, maybe two hundred thousand. "Partial payout."
Kono's radio crackled — Steve. "Status?"
Beau answered, "Two tangos. One down, one alive. Safehouse clear. Evidence: maps, cash, phones. Waikīkī drop referenced."
"Copy," Steve said. "HPD inbound. Sit tight and hold the survivor."
"Roger," Beau replied.
Holding the Line
They dragged the wounded gunman to a chair and zip-tied him. Kono pressed gauze to his shoulder to keep him alive — barely.
She glanced at Beau. "You didn't even flinch back there."
"Training," he said simply.
She gave him a sidelong look. "Still impressive."
Beau didn't answer, just checked Zeus's harness and gave the dog water. The Malinois drank, then sat poised, eyes locked on the prisoner.
Kono studied him a moment longer — the calm under fire, the quiet efficiency. It made something shift in her chest, something she hadn't expected when they'd agreed to keep things light.
She shook it off and got back to work.
HPD & Five-0 Arrive
Sirens whined in the distance. Steve's Silverado roared up first, Danny hanging half out the passenger side.
Steve strode in, eyes sharp but relieved. "Everyone good?"
"Good," Beau said. "One down, one in custody."
Danny whistled low at the scene. "You two throw the quietest war parties."
"Guy tried to kill us," Kono deadpanned.
Steve clapped Beau on the shoulder. "Nice work."
Beau just nodded, already sliding the evidence bags toward Chin, who'd arrived with HPD backup.
Chin examined the map wall. "Cartel definitely set up shop. These markers — stash houses."
Danny eyed the wounded man. "Think he'll talk?"
"Eventually," Steve said. "We'll let HPD and DEA pull that thread."
Debrief Outside
Once the scene was secure, Beau and Kono stepped out for air. The ocean glimmered beyond the dunes; sun now high and hot.
Kono exhaled. "Welcome back to work, huh?"
Beau gave a dry half-smile. "Better than paperwork."
She looked at him, head tilted. "You're good under fire. Not surprised, just… noticing."
"Job for a long time," he said.
"Yeah." She hesitated, then added, softer, "Glad you were there."
Beau met her eyes — warm, steady — but didn't push further. "Glad you were too."
Something unspoken hung there before Steve called from the porch, breaking the moment.
New Lead
Steve strode over, phone to his ear. "DEA just confirmed: another hit team might already be on island. They're hunting Ortega's money drop in Waikīkī. We need to move."
Danny groaned. "Of course we do."
Steve looked at Beau and Kono. "You two up for another round?"
"Always," Beau said.
Kono smirked. "Let's go hunting."
Zeus barked once — sharp, eager — as if to say he was ready too.
Waikīkī was waking up in slow waves of tourists and early surfers when the task force rolled in. The cartel wouldn't care about surf breaks or mai tais — they'd care about cash, drop points, and escape routes. Steve parked the Silverado at a nondescript curb near a boutique hotel while Danny grumbled about traffic. Beau pulled the Bronco in behind them, Zeus's head poking out of the window like a furry sentinel.
They gathered on the sidewalk for a quick huddle. Steve pointed to a tablet map.
"DEA intel puts the cartel money drop here," he said, tapping an alley behind the Royal Hawaiian. "Old-school: cash for IDs and flight info to get their hitter out. We move quiet, observe, grab if we have to. No public shootout."
Danny threw up his hands. "We're in the busiest tourist strip in the Pacific. Quiet, sure."
"Try," Steve said flatly.
Beau studied the satellite view, then looked up. "There's a rooftop across from the alley. Good eyes on target."
Steve nodded. "You and Chin up top. Kono and Danny street-level cover. I'll float and coordinate."
Danny scowled. "Why do I always get street-level where the bullets fly?"
"Because you talk too much," Steve said.
Kono smirked as she adjusted her comm. Beau caught her eye for a fraction of a second — a silent you good? She gave the smallest nod. They had an unspoken language now: partners, secret allies, something more when no one was watching.
Rooftop Nest
Ten minutes later Beau and Chin were prone on a low roof with long rifles and binoculars. Zeus lay flat between them, ears pricked.
"Dog's well trained," Chin murmured, impressed.
"Best I've seen," Beau said. "Saved my ass plenty."
Chin studied him a second. "You settle in fast. Not many can walk into this team and belong."
Beau shrugged, eyes never leaving the alley. "Your ohana's good people."
Chin hesitated, then said quietly, "Kono trusts you. That's rare."
Beau didn't glance over, but something flickered across his face. "I trust her too."
Chin's gaze lingered a beat, but he didn't press. Just went back to glassing the street.
Street Cover
Down below, Kono and Danny walked the busy sidewalk in casual clothes, trying to blend with tourists. Kono's board shorts and tank top fit; Danny looked like someone who'd lost a bet with an aloha shirt.
"I hate undercover vacation cop," Danny muttered.
"Try smiling," Kono suggested.
"Smiling gets me pickpocketed."
She bit back a laugh. Their banter was cover but it helped keep eyes off the fact she was scanning every alley shadow.
Her comm buzzed softly: Beau. "Two possibles, west end of the alley. Tactical bags."
"Copy," she murmured.
Danny's head snapped slightly. "He's good."
"Yeah," Kono said before she could stop herself. She hoped Danny didn't hear the warmth in her voice.
He did. He glanced at her sideways, suspicious but said nothing — for now.
Target Arrives
Through Beau's scope, two men appeared: lean, sunburnt, tactical backpacks. One checked a burner phone, scanned the street like he'd done this before. Cartel sicarios, no doubt.
A third man followed — local contact — carrying a nondescript duffel. Likely cash.
"They're here," Beau reported softly.
"Eyes on," Steve replied from his floating position in a café across the street.
"Wait for handoff," Chin murmured.
The trio moved into the narrow service alley behind a surf rental shop. Out of casual view but perfect for a quick deal.
"Positions," Steve said quietly. "We take them after exchange."
Tense Seconds
Beau slowed his breathing, scope steady. He could see the cash man unzip the duffel — stacks of U.S. bills. One sicario showed IDs and a plane ticket envelope. They spoke in rapid Spanish. Beau caught enough: confirmation, next flight, kill order completed.
Then Zeus gave the faintest low growl. Beau's instincts spiked.
"Movement," he whispered.
At the far end of the alley another pair of men appeared — bigger, heavier guns visible under shirts. Backup shooters.
"Four total," Beau corrected calmly.
"Copy," Steve said. "Danny, Kono — adjust."
Danny muttered, "Of course there's more."
Kono slid casually closer to the alley mouth, hand near her concealed sidearm.
Bust Goes Hot
The exchange finished. One sicario slapped the duffel closed and turned. For a split second Beau thought they'd walk — but then the lead man spotted Kono's subtle comm and froze.
"¡Policía!" he barked.
Guns came up.
"Move!" Steve snapped.
Beau's rifle cracked once — lead sicario dropped. Chaos erupted: tourists screamed, scattering. Kono shoved a tourist out of the line of fire and drew, taking cover behind a trash bin. Danny cursed and joined her, firing controlled bursts down the alley.
Steve sprinted from the café, flanking.
Beau worked methodically: one shot clipped a gunman's weapon arm; Chin took down the second with a clean chest hit.
Zeus waited for Beau's hand signal, then charged the third man trying to flee. The Malinois hit like a missile, teeth sinking, dragging him down until Steve cuffed him.
Within thirty seconds it was done — brutal, fast, no bystanders hurt.
Clearing Scene
HPD sirens screamed in the distance. Steve barked into comms: "Scene clear. Weapons down."
Danny blew out a breath, leaning against the wall. "I hate vacation crime."
Kono checked her side — grazed by a brick chip but fine. She glanced up at Beau on the roof and gave a small nod. He returned it, calm and solid.
Chin grinned slightly. "Clean shots, Walker."
Beau only said, "Training pays."
Zeus sat panting happily, waiting for praise. Beau knelt to scratch behind his ears. "Good boy."
Tourists filmed from a distance; HPD moved fast to corral them and secure suspects. Steve managed the scene with practiced authority.
After-Action
Back in the SUVs once HPD took custody, Steve drove lead, Beau and Kono following.
Steve's voice crackled over comms. "Nice shooting. No civilian casualties, suspects alive enough to talk."
Danny replied, "Minus one, but he started it."
"Walker?" Steve asked.
"Clean," Beau said.
"Good work," Steve said simply — high praise from McGarrett.
Quiet Drive
In the Bronco, Kono leaned back, adrenaline ebbing. Zeus slept, head on her knee.
"You were a machine up there," she said quietly.
"Years of practice," Beau replied.
"I'm glad you're on our side."
He glanced over, a flicker of a smile. "Me too."
Silence for a beat, warm but charged. They were good at this — the mission, the cover — but the current under it was harder to ignore with each op.
Kono finally broke it with a small laugh. "Danny's suspicious."
"Of us?"
"Of… something. He's looking."
Beau shrugged slightly. "We're careful."
"Yeah," she said, though her smile suggested she wasn't sure how long that would last.
New Intel
Steve called back as they hit the highway. "DEA wants the evidence — cash, IDs — but they'll let us keep the phones. Chin's digging. Could lead to the rest of the cell."
Danny groaned, "So, more fun ahead."
Kono looked at Beau. "Think this is just about the money?"
"No," Beau said softly. "Cartel doesn't chase one accountant this hard unless there's more — maybe laundering channels here."
Kono's eyes sharpened. "So bigger problem."
"Yeah," Beau said. "We'll find it."
Zeus thumped his tail as if to agree.
By early afternoon the task force war room looked like an organized storm. The table was buried under cash bundles, burner phones, and hastily translated notes from the plantation house. DEA agents had come and gone, happy to take the dead sicario and the wounded one into federal custody, but content to let Five-0 chase local leads.
Steve leaned over the table, hands braced, studying a burner phone's cracked screen while Chin typed furiously.
"DEA says our wounded guy clammed up," Steve reported. "Won't talk without a lawyer."
Danny muttered, "Of course not."
"But we got these phones," Steve continued. "Chin?"
Chin turned his monitor so the group could see. "I've pulled text backups. Spanish mostly — Walker?"
Beau stepped in, already scanning. His Spanish slid out smooth as silk as he read. "These two: logistics. Car rentals, boat schedules, cash drops. This one…" He tapped another phone. "Name comes up — El Gavilán. Means 'the hawk.' Likely a handler."
"Sounds friendly," Danny said dryly.
"Mentions Lauhala Bank," Beau added. "Private offshore accounts."
Steve frowned. "Lauhala's been whispered in Fed circles — quiet place for gray money."
"Ortega must've stolen more than cash," Beau said. "Maybe account keys."
Kono was leaning over his shoulder, watching his eyes move quickly across text. She wasn't fluent, but she liked the way he was — calm, precise, quietly intense.
Chin looked thoughtful. "If Ortega had account data, cartel needs it back."
Steve nodded. "And if we can get to it first, we cripple their Hawaii pipeline."
Intel Network
Beau stepped back, already pulling out his own phone. "I know a guy — ex-DIA contractor, does quiet banking digs. Might get a trace on those accounts."
Steve nodded once. "Do it."
Beau moved to a quiet corner and dialed. Spanish again, low and fast: favors called in, encrypted codes exchanged. He didn't mention Five-0 by name, but the caller understood enough.
When he hung up he returned. "Contact says Lauhala's accounts use token fobs. Ortega likely had one — might still be somewhere on island. My guy will see if any pings pop up."
Steve's jaw tightened. "Cartel's probably hunting it too."
"Yep," Beau said simply.
Personal Beats
While Chin kept digging on the digital side, the rest grabbed a quick breather. Kono perched on the edge of a desk, sipping water. Beau leaned nearby, Zeus stretched at his boots.
"Your network's impressive," she said quietly.
"Old favors," Beau replied. "You keep enough doors open when you leave Intel, sometimes people pick up."
"You miss it?"
He thought a beat. "Parts. Mostly not."
"Why?"
He looked at her, eyes steady. "Too many shadows. Good to be in sunlight now."
Kono smiled faintly. "Five-0 isn't exactly sunshine."
"It's lighter than where I was."
Her smile lingered, warm. Then Danny passed by and she straightened fast. Beau hid his grin.
Danny glanced between them suspiciously, muttering, "Secrets… always secrets with you two."
"Just work," Kono said lightly.
"Mhm." Danny walked off but kept looking back.
Steve's Check-In
Steve approached Beau a few minutes later while Kono reviewed a case file. "How'd the network shake out?"
"Got a trace. Might take hours," Beau said.
Steve nodded approvingly. "You move fast."
Beau shrugged. "Old trade."
"You fitting in okay?" Steve asked quietly, almost brotherly.
"Yeah. Team's solid."
Steve's eyes flicked to where Kono was working. Then back to Beau. Nothing accusing, just… observant. "Good."
Beau met the look without flinch. He didn't say a word. Steve gave a small nod — message received but not pressed — and moved on.
Lead Breaks
Late afternoon Chin looked up sharply. "Got a hit. One of the burners pinged a cell tower near an old sugar mill in Waimānalo. Could be a stash or meet."
Steve was instantly moving. "Gear up. Walker, Zeus, you're point. We take it quiet."
Danny groaned but grabbed his vest. "Here we go again."
Kono checked her pistol, then glanced at Beau. Their eyes met — professional but a silent readiness between them.
Waimānalo Setup
The mill was a crumbling giant, rusted steel ribs poking at the sky. Tall grass whispered in the wind; broken machinery littered the yard. HPD staged perimeter while Five-0 slipped closer.
Steve crouched behind a conveyor belt, peering through binoculars. "Two SUVs. Four men outside. Probably more inside."
Beau knelt beside him, scanning. "Standard watch pattern. Zeus can sweep perimeter for tripwires or hidden shooters."
"Do it," Steve said.
Beau gave the low German command. Zeus flowed into the grass like a shadow, silent and deliberate.
Danny whispered, "That dog is terrifying."
"Good boy," Beau murmured into comms.
Seconds later Zeus reappeared, tail stiff but no alarm bark — perimeter clear.
"Clean," Beau reported.
"Okay," Steve said. "We breach slow. Walker and me front. Kono and Chin flank right. Danny hang left."
"Why am I always alone?" Danny muttered.
"You're loud," Steve said.
Kono stifled a grin; Beau's mouth quirked.
Breach
They moved.
Steve and Beau hit the main door at once: Steve swung it open, Beau flowed through low and fast. Inside — wide dusty floor lit by shafts of sun, tables with cash counters, crates of weapons. Four gunmen froze mid-count. For a second everyone stared.
Then chaos: guns grabbed, shouts in Spanish.
Beau dropped the first with a double tap before the man could aim. Steve's rifle barked. Kono and Chin swept from the flank, cutting angles. Danny yelled something about paperwork and fired controlled shots.
Zeus launched at a man reaching for an AK, dragging him screaming to the ground until Beau called him off.
It was over in less than a minute — clean, precise, nobody from Five-0 hit.
Key Find
Chin sifted through boxes while Steve cuffed the last man. "Jackpot," Chin said, holding up a small black token fob with a digital screen. "Lauhala access key."
Steve's face lit briefly. "Nice. That's what Ortega stole."
Beau pocketed it carefully. "Cartel wanted this bad."
"Now we have it," Steve said. "Let's use it."
Quick Fallout
HPD swept in to process. Steve ordered: "We'll take the fob to HQ, see if we can crack the accounts before cartel reinforcements hit island."
Danny sighed. "So… overtime."
Beau leaned to Kono quietly as they walked back to the Bronco. "Good work in there."
"You too," she said softly.
They shared a small, private smile. It felt natural now — dangerous, maybe, but real.
Back at HQ
Night was falling as they rolled back into the palace. Chin set up the fob with encrypted readers; Beau patched in his DIA contact for silent tech support.
"This is big," Chin said. "If we can drain or freeze these accounts, cartel loses Hawaii safe harbor."
Steve nodded grimly. "Let's burn them."
Danny grinned tiredly. "Love when we ruin bad guys' day."
Kono leaned on the table near Beau, eyes bright with the hunt. "Ready?"
"Always," he said.
Zeus lay at their feet, calm but alert — soldier's dog waiting for the next command.
HQ was quiet except for the low hum of computers and the rustle of take-out containers. The night had settled heavy and warm over Honolulu; outside the windows the city lights shimmered across the harbor. Inside, the Five-0 table glowed with monitors.
Chin worked one keyboard, Beau another. A secured video call was open to Beau's DIA contact — a weathered man in a dim office somewhere CONUS.
"Evening, Walker," the man greeted. "Heard you've got a Lauhala token."
"Right here," Beau said, holding the black fob up to the camera. "We need access before Sinaloa knows we've got it."
The man whistled. "Risky. Lauhala's tight."
"Can you help?" Steve asked, standing with arms folded.
"I can get you read-only and maybe freeze," the contact said. "But you need two-factor — a voiceprint or Ortega's credentials."
Kono frowned. "Ortega's dead."
"Maybe he left something," Chin murmured.
Beau pulled up the burner phones again. "Texts mentioned 'abogado viejo' — old lawyer. Could be a local contact."
"Check contacts," the DIA man said. "If you find his phone or email we might spoof."
Team Hunt
They split the work. Chin dug through the digital backups; Kono searched Ortega's paper ledger; Beau cross-referenced Spanish names. Steve and Danny hit the phones, calling feds and bankers.
After half an hour Kono called out, "Got something — 'Lic. Manalo,' with a local number."
Beau leaned over. "Licenciado Manalo — lawyer honorific. Could be him."
Steve called HPD. "Get me everything on a Manalo, immigration law, maybe offshore trusts."
Minutes later an HPD analyst patched back: "Manuel Manalo, 63, Filipino-Mexican attorney, lives Kailua, specializes in shell corps."
"Bingo," Danny muttered.
Steve looked at Beau. "You and Kono go. Take Zeus. We'll keep cracking."
Beau nodded once, already packing.
Kailua Stakeout
Night deepened as the Bronco rolled into a quiet Kailua neighborhood. Modest house, lights still on. Zeus sniffed the air but stayed calm.
Beau parked a house away. "We go friendly first," he said quietly. "If he's spooked cartel might've been here."
Kono checked her pistol. "Friendly I can do."
They walked up the drive, badges visible but hands loose. Beau knocked firmly.
An older man in a guayabera shirt cracked the door, eyes wary. "Yes?"
"Manuel Manalo?" Beau asked. "State task force. Need to talk about a client — Luis Ortega."
Manalo flinched just slightly before schooling his face. "Not safe here. Come in."
They exchanged a look — then followed.
The Lawyer's Tale
Inside smelled of books and old cigars. Manalo shut the door fast.
"They killed Luis, didn't they?" he said, voice shaking.
Kono softened. "Yes. We're trying to stop them coming for anyone else."
Manalo sagged into a chair. "He stole access tokens. Said he wanted out — new life. Gave me a backup voiceprint in case he died."
Beau's brows rose. "He trusted you?"
"I saved him once in Manila," the lawyer said bitterly. "Didn't save him this time."
"Where's the print?" Beau asked.
Manalo fetched a small encrypted USB from a safe behind books. "Luis said: if he dies, use this to destroy the account."
Beau accepted it carefully. "We're going to shut them down."
Manalo looked at him with haunted gratitude. "Do it fast. They'll come."
Return to HQ
Back at HQ, Chin plugged the USB into an isolated laptop.
"Voiceprint confirmed," he said. "Matches Ortega on file with Mexican banking regulators."
Beau patched his DIA contact back in. "We've got print."
"Alright," the man said. "Token + print = full access. Once you enter, cartel will know someone breached. Expect noise."
Steve's eyes sharpened. "Do it."
The Digital Fight
Chin typed quick commands; Beau read Spanish prompts; Kono stood behind, alert.
On screen, Lauhala's portal opened — sleek, dark, coded with gold logos. Numbers cascaded: shell corporations, hidden routes of cash to Hawai'i. Tens of millions.
"Got them," Chin said quietly. "So much money."
"Freeze what you can," Steve ordered.
Chin hit commands; Beau entered Ortega's last key phrase in Spanish: "El halcón cae." (The hawk falls.)
Bars shifted from green to red. Accounts locked.
"Done," Chin said. "Funds frozen."
The DIA man whistled. "You just pissed off some very bad people."
Instant Reaction
Almost immediately one of the burner phones on the table buzzed to life. Unknown number. Spanish text flashed: "Hawk lost. Kill the thieves."
Steve's jaw set. "They know."
Danny threw up his hands. "Of course they know!"
Beau translated calmly. "They just put a hit on whoever did this. Us."
Steve turned to the team. "Security up. We move safehouse, keep token secure."
Kono looked at Beau. "They're coming."
"Let them," he said simply.
Quiet Moment in Chaos
While Chin and Steve coordinated HPD coverage and sent Grace and other ohana contacts warning texts, Beau leashed Zeus and stepped onto the lanai to scan the harbor. Kono followed after a beat.
"You always this calm?" she asked softly.
"Used to worse odds," Beau said.
She smirked faintly. "You're terrifyingly steady."
He glanced at her, a hint of a smile. "You're steady too."
"Not inside," she admitted.
"You were rock today."
She hesitated, then said quietly, "Last time IA had me twisted up. Felt like I'd lost everything. This… you make it easier."
He didn't reach for her — they were still at work — but the warmth in his gaze said enough. "I'm here."
Kono looked away, fighting a small, real smile. "Good to know."
Steve Interrupts
Steve stepped out. "Walker, Kalākaua — HPD's got eyes but I want us staying mobile. We'll set up at the old airstrip overnight in case cartel tries to land more muscle."
"Copy," Beau said.
Kono nodded. "Got it."
Steve looked between them for a beat, something unreadable in his eyes, then said simply, "Gear up."
When he left, Kono exhaled. "Think he knows?"
"Maybe suspects," Beau said quietly.
"Danny definitely does."
Beau chuckled low. "We'll keep it clean."
"For now," she teased softly.
Rolling Out
Minutes later the convoy — Steve's Silverado, Chin's SUV, Beau's Bronco — rolled east toward the old military airstrip. Zeus lay silent in back but alert. The night wind rushed through open windows.
"Here we go," Kono said, more to herself than to him.
Beau glanced at her. "Whatever comes, we handle it."
She smiled slightly. "Yeah. We do."
Outside, Honolulu's lights faded as they headed for the dark coast where trouble was already on the move.
The old airstrip lay on the windward coast like a forgotten scar. Once a Navy auxiliary field, it was now cracked tarmac swallowed by ironwood trees and salt air. The moon rose half-hidden behind clouds, throwing long silver shadows.
Beau parked the Bronco behind a hangar and killed the lights. Zeus jumped down silently, nose to the wind. Kono followed, scanning the dark with calm precision. Steve and Chin rolled in a minute later; Danny grumbled about being awake past midnight.
Steve handed out comms. "DEA says cartel may try to evac the rest of their crew by private plane or boat. We hold the strip. HPD's a few miles back for backup if needed."
Danny muttered, "Translation: we're the first wave."
Beau checked his rifle, calm and unhurried. "Good ground here," he said. "Clear lines of sight. Zeus can sweep perimeter."
Steve nodded. "Do it."
Beau gave the German command, and Zeus melted into the dark grass, a silent ghost. Beau watched his GPS tracker on a small screen — the dog circling wide around the strip.
Kono leaned against the Bronco fender beside Beau. "Doesn't bother you? Middle of nowhere, waiting for trouble?"
"Feels like home," he said.
She smirked. "Figures."
Setting the Net
Chin set up a small drone for overhead eyes. Steve posted Danny on the far flank with a carbine and extra radios, though Danny was audibly unhappy about it. Kono climbed a hangar roof for sniper cover while Beau chose a low rise near the runway's edge.
"Eyes up," Steve ordered quietly over comms. "Let's end this before sunrise."
Silence settled except for wind and the occasional hiss of waves on distant reef. The team sank into the kind of waiting that old soldiers know: patient, alert, coiled.
Zeus Alerts
Around 0200, Zeus's tracker blipped twice — his silent signal. Beau tensed. Through night vision, he saw the Malinois crouched low at the far tree line, ears flat, tail stiff.
"Movement east treeline," Beau whispered into comms.
"Copy," Steve replied instantly.
A faint hum followed — boat engines. Then headlights flickered offshore as a small twin-prop plane approached, lights blacked out until the last second.
"They're coming in both ways," Chin murmured from the drone feed. "Boat offloading to trucks; plane trying to land."
"Walker, call Zeus back and cover boat," Steve ordered. "I'll take runway with Chin. Kono, overwatch."
"On it," Beau said.
He clicked the recall tone; Zeus streaked back like a shadow, barely making sound. Beau gave a low "Such gut" and they shifted toward the beach side quietly.
Boat Landing
Through NVG Beau saw the inflatable hit sand — four men, heavy packs, suppressed rifles. Professional. They moved toward the tarmac to link with the incoming plane.
Beau whispered into comms: "Four-man boat team, suppressed weapons."
Steve: "Hold. We'll ambush after touchdown."
Danny muttered, "We're letting them gather? Fantastic plan."
Beau smiled faintly to himself, unseen.
Touchdown
The twin-prop flared and touched down rough on the cracked strip, kicking dust. As its props wound down, the boat team jogged forward to meet it.
Steve's voice was steel: "Now."
The Fight
Spotlights snapped on from the hangar, blinding the cartel crew. "¡Policía!" Steve roared as he and Chin opened fire, controlled bursts that shattered tires and engines.
The smugglers scattered — some firing back, muzzle flashes ripping the night.
Beau dropped prone, rifle already steady. One clean shot dropped the first boat man; Zeus launched at the second, taking him down hard. Kono's rifle cracked from the roof, precise and surgical. Danny yelled colorful New Jersey curses and poured fire from cover.
Steve and Chin advanced tactically, taking the fight toward the plane. Two cartel gunmen tried to flank — Beau swung, double-tapped both before they got far. A third charged the hangar ladder toward Kono; she coolly shot him off before he reached the roof.
The plane's pilot tried to spool engines to escape. Steve sprinted through fire and shot out a prop with cold Navy accuracy. Sparks showered as the craft died.
Within two minutes the night fell silent again but for the groans of wounded cartel men and the bark of Zeus holding one pinned.
Securing Scene
"Clear!" Steve called.
"Clear!" Kono echoed from above.
"Clear," Beau confirmed, rising from the grass.
Danny muttered over comms, "I'm still alive somehow."
HPD sirens wailed closer — backup finally rolling in. Steve signaled them forward while the team regrouped.
Beau checked Zeus — the dog was panting but uninjured. "Good boy," Beau murmured, rubbing his neck. Zeus leaned into the touch, tail thumping.
Kono climbed down the hangar ladder and approached. "Nice shooting."
"You too," Beau said.
She grinned a little despite the adrenaline, brushing dust from her arms. "Not bad for a Monday night."
"Technically Tuesday," Danny grumbled, limping over. "And I hate all of you."
Aftermath
DEA agents arrived just before dawn, taking custody of prisoners, weapons, and the crippled plane. Steve gave them the quick debrief: cartel attempted extraction, failed, accounts frozen.
One agent eyed Beau with open respect. "Walker, right? Heard of you. Hell of an op."
Beau just nodded, uncomfortable with praise. Steve smirked faintly — he knew the type.
Dawn Quiet
As first light broke pink over the ocean, the team finally exhaled. Steve clapped Beau on the shoulder. "Good work tonight. You and Zeus changed the game."
"Glad to help," Beau said.
Danny yawned hugely. "I need coffee the size of my head."
Chin smiled small and tired. "Worth it."
Kono stood a little apart, watching the sea. Beau stepped over quietly.
"You okay?" he asked.
"Yeah." She looked at him, face soft now that the danger had passed. "Better than okay."
He nodded. "We did good."
"We did," she agreed. For a moment they just stood, shoulder to shoulder, silent in the dawn glow — partners, allies, something deeper unspoken.
Subtle Suspicion
Steve watched from a few yards away, arms crossed. His gaze flicked from them to Danny, who also noticed and raised his brows. Steve gave the faintest headshake: leave it. Not the time. But the suspicion was there now, quiet and sharp.
Return Ride
On the drive back, Zeus curled up in the backseat exhausted but happy. Kono leaned back, half-smiling.
"You're trouble," she said softly.
Beau glanced over. "Why?"
"You make this job feel… steady. That's dangerous."
He gave a small chuckle. "Steady's not bad."
"No," she said quietly. "Not bad."
They rode in companionable silence, the unspoken bond between them a little stronger after every op.
By the time they rolled back into HQ the sun was fully up and Honolulu was humming to life. The team looked like it had been awake for forty-eight hours — salt-stained, soot-flecked, and running on caffeine and adrenaline.
Governor Denning himself was waiting in the war room with two DEA reps in crisp suits. Not a good sign.
"Governor," Steve greeted, still in tac vest but somehow composed. "We have the cartel cell in custody and their accounts frozen."
Denning's brow was severe. "You shut down a major Sinaloa pipeline overnight. Impressive — but I'm getting calls from the State Department and Treasury."
Danny groaned under his breath. "Here we go."
The older DEA agent spoke. "You folks moved fast. We're impressed — but freezing accounts triggers alarms all over the Pacific. Mexico's already screaming."
Steve didn't flinch. "Money laundering through Hawai'i stops now."
The agent gave a grudging nod. "We'll back you publicly. Quietly, expect pushback."
Denning looked from Steve to Beau. "Walker, this kind of Intel work — you're trained for it?"
"Yes, sir," Beau said evenly.
Denning studied him, then gave a short nod. "Good. Keep your channels clean. Hawaii doesn't need a war."
"Understood," Beau replied.
Team Debrief
Once the officials left, the ohana collapsed into chairs around the big table. Paperwork piled high.
Danny threw his arms out. "So, another day, another international incident."
"Good job, everyone," Chin said dryly.
Steve gave Beau a rare, genuine grin. "You made the difference last night. Zeus too."
Beau shrugged. "Team effort."
Kono smiled faintly. "Still — you were rock solid."
Danny pointed between them. "Okay, what is this mutual admiration society I keep seeing?"
Kono rolled her eyes. "It's called teamwork, Danny."
"Mhm," Danny said, unconvinced but dropping it for now.
Quiet Refill
Coffee was depleted fast. Beau went to the small kitchen for another pot; Kono slipped in after a few minutes under the pretense of grabbing sugar.
"Hey," she said softly.
He turned from the coffeemaker. "Hey."
"You okay?" she asked.
He gave a small smile. "I'm good. You?"
"Little sore, but good."
They fell into quiet for a beat while the machine hissed.
"Last night…" she started, then stopped.
He waited.
She tried again. "Last night wasn't just work for me. Not just adrenaline."
Beau's brow softened. "I know."
She looked up, wary. "We said casual."
"Yeah," he said gently. "We did."
"Still okay?"
He took a slow breath. "It's okay if it's more, Kono. Doesn't have to stay one thing forever."
She blinked at him — surprised, touched.
Before either could say more, footsteps approached. They stepped apart just as Chin walked in for coffee. He glanced between them, subtle curiosity flickering, but said nothing.
Chin's Quiet Wisdom
Later, as Beau was checking Zeus's gear by the SUV, Chin joined him.
"You're good with her," Chin said casually.
Beau looked up, noncommittal. "She's good people."
Chin gave a faint smile. "She's family. Been through hell. Be careful with her heart."
Beau met his gaze steadily. "I know."
Chin studied him another beat, then nodded. "Alright."
It wasn't a threat — just quiet family wisdom. Beau respected it.
Governor's Call
Steve came out from Denning's call looking grim. "Cartel wants retaliation. Feds say keep low profile. We're getting more DEA support but… be careful."
Danny groaned. "So normal Tuesday."
Steve looked at Beau. "You've painted a target on your back with that hack."
Beau's mouth quirked. "Wouldn't be the first time."
Kono glanced at him, concern flickering before she masked it.
Post-Op Wind Down
By mid-afternoon paperwork was mostly done and HPD took over holding the prisoners. The team finally had a lull. Steve dismissed them with a rare "go home, sleep."
Danny bolted for his car muttering about Grace and pancakes. Chin left to check on his uncle. Steve stayed behind with files.
Kono lingered, clearly unsure whether to head out or stay. Beau finished packing Zeus's kit and looked up.
"Food?" he asked simply.
She smiled, small and real. "Food."
Lunch Escape
They took the Bronco down to a quiet shrimp truck near the docks — far from Waikīkī crowds. They ate at a picnic table under palm shade, Zeus lying nearby with a scrap of shrimp.
Kono relaxed back with a satisfied sigh. "Best call all day."
"Better than gunfights," Beau said with a half-smile.
"Debatable," she teased, then grew quieter. "You really don't scare easy."
He shrugged. "Seen worse. But last night — you were incredible. You've got steel, Kono."
She flushed slightly, looking away. "Thanks."
They ate in companionable quiet for a while, the ocean close enough to hear.
Breaking the Wall
Eventually Kono set her food down. "When IA had me under, I felt… alone. You just showed up out of nowhere and… didn't let me drown."
Beau watched her, calm but warm. "You didn't need saving. Just someone to stand with you."
"I like that you did," she said softly.
He reached out without thinking, brushing a stray strand of hair back from her face. Not dramatic, just gentle. "I like standing with you."
She met his eyes — long, searching — and for a moment the whole world felt very small and very clear.
Then Zeus let out a low chuff as someone approached to order food, and they both laughed quietly, breaking the spell.
"Guess that's enough sap for one day," she said, smiling.
"Guess so," he agreed, but the smile lingered between them.
Quiet Decision
On the drive back, Kono stared out the window a while before saying softly, "I'm glad we're not just… nothing."
Beau kept his eyes on the road but his voice was warm. "Me too."
She smiled faintly, turned to watch the sea, and let the quiet hold.
It wasn't a full commitment — not yet — but something had shifted. The line between casual and caring was blurring fast.
The shrimp truck lunch had been barely an hour ago when Beau's phone buzzed with a coded alert from one of his Intel contacts:
Sinaloa chatter: "new hawk" inbound HNL. Target: U.S. operative who froze accounts.
Beau's jaw tightened. He showed Kono the screen while driving back toward town.
"They're coming for you," she said quietly, eyes hard.
"Could be anyone on the team," Beau replied.
"It's you," she said flatly. "You burned their money."
He didn't argue. Just adjusted the mirror, calm but sharper now.
Kono watched him, worried but steady. "Steve needs to know."
"Yeah." He tapped his comm and called in.
HQ Alarm
Minutes later they burst into HQ where Steve was still sifting intel. Beau tossed the phone on the table.
"Cartel's sending a hitter," he said.
Steve scanned the message. "How reliable?"
"Very," Beau said.
Steve's face hardened. "Alright. They know we froze their cash. You're top of their list."
Danny looked up from his paperwork, horrified. "Fantastic. International murder squads."
Chin joined them, eyes grim. "We can move Walker and Kono to a safehouse."
Beau shook his head. "Won't help. Better to bait them."
Steve's brows rose. "You're volunteering as bait?"
"Easier to end this clean."
Danny threw up his hands. "Of course the cowboy volunteers to be bait."
Kono cut in before anyone else could. "I'm with him."
Steve glanced at her. "Kono—"
"They'll come at him hard. He shouldn't be alone," she said, voice firm.
Beau looked at her, a silent you sure? She nodded once.
Steve studied them both, then gave a short, reluctant nod. "Alright. Controlled bait. We pick the ground."
Setting the Trap
They chose a semi-abandoned parking structure in Kaka'ako — wide sight lines, multiple exit routes, plenty of cover. HPD teams set a perimeter two blocks out, plainclothes and hidden.
Beau and Kono rolled the Bronco into the center level as if casually returning from lunch. Zeus sat alert but quiet in the back.
Steve's voice crackled over comms from an overwatch van with Chin and Danny: "Eyes on. You're clear."
Beau leaned against the Bronco tailgate, playing casual. Kono sat on the bumper beside him, phone in hand but eyes everywhere.
"You okay with this?" he asked quietly.
"Not really," she admitted. "But better to end it."
He gave a small approving nod. "Good cop."
"Terrible idea," she countered, but smiled despite herself.
The Strike
Twenty minutes crawled by. Then Zeus's ears pricked; a low growl rumbled deep in his chest.
Beau's muscles tightened. "Incoming."
Kono slid off the bumper, hand brushing her sidearm.
From the lower ramp came a black SUV, windows dark. It slowed, too smooth, then doors opened fast — three men, suppressed rifles. Professional hitters.
"Now!" Steve barked over comms.
Beau shoved Kono behind the Bronco's fender and fired first — clean, precise. One man went down. Kono came up from cover and double-tapped another.
The third ducked behind a pillar, spraying suppressed rounds. Sparks flew off the Bronco's side panel.
Zeus leapt from the tailgate at Beau's sharp command "Fass!" and streaked low toward the shooter. The man turned just as 70 pounds of fury hit him full in the arm. Rifle clattered; Zeus clamped down, relentless.
Beau advanced and cuffed him in one smooth motion while Kono covered.
Then — more movement. A second SUV screeched in from the opposite ramp, doors flying open.
"Two more!" Chin warned.
"On it," Steve said — the overwatch van doors slammed as Steve and Danny charged in from behind.
Gunfire cracked loud and sharp, echoing through the garage. Steve dropped one hitter; Danny — grumbling but accurate — winged another. Kono sprinted low to flank and dropped the last man with a clean shot to the leg.
Silence crashed down as fast as it began.
"Clear!" Steve barked.
Beau whistled sharply and Zeus released the pinned man, retreating obediently to heel.
Aftermath
HPD swept in to collect the wounded and dead. DEA liaison arrived minutes later, eyes wide.
Steve debriefed fast: "Cartel hit squad neutralized. No civilian casualties."
The agent exhaled. "That was… surgical."
Danny muttered, "More like insane."
Beau checked Zeus over quickly — no injuries, just panting. "Good boy," he said, rubbing the dog's flank.
Kono stood nearby, adrenaline still buzzing but eyes on Beau. The calm in his face steadied her in ways she didn't expect.
Steve approached them, voice quieter now. "Nice work. Both of you."
Kono nodded, still keyed up. Beau simply said, "Done what needed."
Steve studied Beau a long moment — SEAL to SEAL — then clapped his shoulder. "Glad you're on our side."
Private Pulse
After the scene cleared, Steve ordered everyone back to HQ for final paperwork. But as Beau and Kono reached the Bronco, she caught his arm.
"You okay?" she asked quietly.
"Yeah. You?"
She hesitated — then let out a breath. "Scared me for a second when the second SUV rolled in."
He gave her a small, warm look. "You had my back."
"You had mine first."
They stood there in the fading adrenaline haze, closer than partners are supposed to stand in a public garage. For a heartbeat neither moved.
Then Danny yelled across the concrete: "Cowboy! Surfer girl! Paperwork!"
Kono stepped back fast, but Beau caught the quick flash of a smile.
"Later," she murmured.
"Later," he agreed.
HQ Debrief
The war room felt lighter somehow when they returned. DEA confirmed the dead were known cartel hitters; the captured ones would face federal charges. Denning called with reluctant praise, telling Steve Five-0 had "averted an international embarrassment."
Danny puffed out his chest. "Hear that? We're heroes."
Steve ignored him, eyes on Beau. "You good staying visible? They may send more."
"Fine," Beau said.
Kono shot him a look — not thrilled, but trusting his steadiness.
Chin quietly typed, clearly documenting every detail. He gave Beau a subtle nod — respect and a bit of silent take care of her.
Late Quiet
When the room finally cleared — Danny gone to see Grace, Chin heading home — Steve lingered only long enough to say, "Good work. Get some sleep."
That left Beau, Kono, and Zeus alone for a moment in the softly lit HQ.
She walked over, tired but still wired. "That was… a lot."
"Welcome back to the job," Beau said with a faint smile.
She laughed once, shaky but real. Then, quieter: "Thanks for keeping me alive."
He shook his head. "We keep each other alive."
She looked at him a long moment, as if weighing something. Then she just said, "See you tomorrow, cowboy," and headed for the door.
He watched her go, something warm and steady settling in his chest despite the chaos.
Morning sunlight washed over the palace courtyard as Beau stepped out of his Bronco, Zeus trotting at his side. HPD uniforms and federal jackets clustered near the entrance; news vans idled at the curb. The ambush in Kaka'ako had hit the morning cycle — "Cartel War in Paradise" screamed from a reporter's mic.
Beau ignored cameras, baseball cap low, Zeus perfectly heeling at his boot. He'd done this before — public heat after black work. Keep your head down. Get inside.
Danny met him at security with a paper cup. "Morning, cowboy. You're front page."
"Lucky me," Beau muttered.
Danny smirked. "Feds want you in witness protection."
"Not happening."
"That's what I told them." Danny clapped his shoulder. "Still, big target now."
"Always was," Beau said dryly.
Danny studied him a moment. "You good?"
"I'm fine."
"Okay," Danny said, but he didn't sound convinced.
War Room Briefing
Inside, Steve was already with a pair of DEA suits and Governor Denning on a video call.
"Walker," Denning said as soon as Beau entered. "You alright?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good. Because the cartel's angry, but Treasury's thrilled. You just froze twenty million. Expect them to keep coming."
Steve crossed arms. "We'll handle it."
The DEA rep cleared his throat. "We can assign federal protection."
"No," Beau said, voice quiet but iron.
One of the agents frowned. "Mr. Walker—"
"I'm staying with my team," Beau said simply. "We keep each other safe."
Steve said nothing, but a tiny glimmer of approval flickered in his eyes.
Denning sighed. "Fine. Just don't make me sign off on another international incident this week."
After the Suits Leave
When the officials cleared out, the team exhaled.
Danny waved a newspaper. "You're officially the mysterious cowboy SEAL who broke the cartel bank. Congratulations."
"Burn it," Beau said, deadpan.
Chin smirked. "Press loves a hero."
Beau shook his head. "Press paints targets."
Steve said quietly, "We've got your six. All of us."
Beau met his eyes. "I know."
Kono hadn't spoken, just watched from her desk. When the others got distracted by files, she caught Beau's gaze and mouthed: You okay?
He gave a tiny nod. Her shoulders eased, just a little.
Low-Profile Afternoon
The rest of the day blurred: statements, HPD coordination, endless paperwork. Zeus napped under Beau's desk while reporters tried to shout questions at the palace gates.
Kono swung by his spot mid-afternoon. "Lunch?"
"Sure," he said.
They ducked out to a back patio where no press could see. Zeus sprawled in the shade while they ate poke bowls in tired silence for a while.
"You really told the Feds no?" she finally asked.
"Yeah."
"You could disappear and be safe."
He shrugged. "I didn't come here to hide."
She studied him. "You're brave or stubborn."
"Little of both."
Something in her gaze warmed. "You know that's what's going to scare me, right? The target on you?"
"I know." His voice stayed calm but softer. "I'll do everything I can not to make you regret caring."
She blinked at him, startled by the honesty. Then looked down at her food, quiet for a beat.
Finally she said, "I don't regret it."
He didn't push. Just let the words settle between them.
Home Visit
By early evening Steve sent everyone home. "Rest. We regroup tomorrow."
Beau took the Bronco back to his small North Shore rental. The surf was mellow, the sky turning orange. Zeus bounded happily into the yard.
He was just cracking a beer on the porch when a car pulled up. Kono's Mustang.
She stepped out in jeans and a loose hoodie, hair down, looking more like the surfer she'd been before HPD.
"Hope I'm not crashing," she said.
"Never," Beau said. "Beer?"
She smiled. "Sure."
Porch Talk
They sat on the porch steps, watching waves catch the last light. Zeus sprawled between them, happy and tired.
"Nice place," Kono said quietly. "Feels… you."
"Simple's good," Beau said.
"You could've stayed on base housing."
"Had enough barracks. Wanted something real."
She nodded, thoughtful.
After a while she said, "Today scared me more than yesterday."
He looked at her. "Why?"
"Because yesterday we were hunting. Today it felt like the war came to you."
He didn't deny it. "That's the life I had. It follows."
She met his eyes. "And you don't run."
"Never was good at running."
Something fierce and tender flashed across her face. She reached out without thinking, hand finding his. "Just… don't go looking to get killed proving something."
He squeezed her hand once, solid. "I'm not trying to die, Kono."
She left her hand there for a few seconds more before pulling back, a little flustered by her own boldness.
Almost Admitting
They sat quiet again, surf in the distance.
"Kono," Beau said softly.
"Yeah?"
"You know if this gets too messy, you can walk."
She turned sharply. "That's not me."
"Could be safer."
"I don't want safe," she said, voice low but sure. "I want real."
That landed between them like a marker. Real. Not casual.
He didn't answer right away — just looked at her, steady, something warm behind the calm.
She looked away first, breath a little shaky. "Anyway… long day."
"Yeah," he agreed, but his eyes never left her.
Small Peace
They stayed a while longer, sipping beer, sharing easy silences that felt new but good. Zeus eventually shifted and put his head on Kono's knee; she smiled and scratched him absently.
When she finally stood to go, she hesitated. "See you tomorrow?"
"Wouldn't miss it."
She started to leave, then turned back, leaned in, and kissed him — quick but sure. Not heat-of-the-moment like before. Softer. Intentional.
"Night, cowboy," she said, cheeks faintly pink.
"Night, Kono," he said quietly.
He watched her drive off down the quiet coastal road, the sound of surf and the weight of something new — something not just casual anymore — settling warm and certain in his chest.
The next morning HQ buzzed, but it was a different hum — victory, not crisis. DEA had confirmed the Sinaloa cell was shattered: accounts frozen, survivors in federal custody, no more muscle inbound. For now, Hawai'i was off their board.
Steve briefed the Governor by phone, calm and crisp. Danny argued with HPD over jurisdiction but with less heat than usual. Chin wrapped up his report for Washington. Zeus slept contentedly under Beau's desk, paws twitching as if chasing ghosts from last night.
Kono arrived late by team standards but early for civilians, coffee in each hand. She passed one to Beau without a word. He smiled quietly. Steve clocked the moment but said nothing.
Governor's Call
Governor Denning's voice came through on speaker. "Five-0 — excellent work. State Department's annoyed, but Treasury and DEA are celebrating. Hawaii looks strong. No more shadow banking for Sinaloa here."
Steve answered evenly, "We'll stay alert for retaliation."
"Do," Denning said. "Walker — you've made friends in high places and enemies too. Watch your back."
"Understood, sir," Beau said calmly.
When the line cut, Danny groaned. "Why can't anyone ever just say thank you?"
"They did," Chin said dryly.
Squad Camaraderie
Steve finally exhaled and gave a rare smile. "We burned a cartel pipeline in forty-eight hours. Not bad."
Danny smirked. "And didn't even blow up Waikīkī. Miracle."
"Barely," Kono teased.
Steve clapped Beau on the shoulder. "Hell of a debut week."
Beau gave a small nod. "Glad to earn my keep."
Chin added warmly, "You did more than that."
Zeus barked once as if to second it, making everyone laugh — even Steve.
For a beat, the room felt light. Ohana.
A Moment with Steve
Later, when the others drifted to paperwork, Steve stopped Beau quietly near the big windows overlooking the harbor.
"You handled yourself," Steve said. "And Kono trusts you."
Beau met his eyes. "I trust her."
Steve studied him — SEAL to SEAL — then said simply, "Good. Just… this team is family. Take care of each other."
"I plan to," Beau said.
Steve nodded, satisfied enough, and left it there.
Danny's Hint
Danny sidled up next, voice low but playful. "So… you and our favorite surfer? Something you wanna share?"
Beau arched a brow. "Teammates."
"Uh-huh," Danny drawled. "I see the looks."
Beau didn't bite, just sipped his coffee.
Danny grinned. "Fine, be mysterious. Just don't break her heart. I like you, cowboy, but she's family."
Beau's voice stayed calm. "Understood."
Danny gave him a long look, then patted his arm. "Good talk."
Kono & Beau Slip Away
When the work finally wound down mid-afternoon, Steve called it: "Take the day. We've earned it."
Danny bolted for Grace. Chin headed to check on family. Steve stayed to finish a call with Joe. That left Kono and Beau slipping out nearly together.
"You headed home?" she asked as they reached the lot.
"Yeah. You?"
She hesitated, then smiled. "Wanna walk the beach?"
Beau's answer was easy. "Sure."
North Shore Walk
They drove to a quiet stretch near Sunset Beach, left the Bronco in the sand lot, and walked barefoot where the tide lapped gentle. Zeus ran ahead chasing gulls, finally free from vests and leashes.
For a while they didn't talk. The ocean did enough.
Finally Kono said, "This week's been… insane."
"Yeah," Beau said.
"But good," she added softly.
He glanced at her. "Good?"
"You showing up. Saving lives. Saving me." She smirked faintly. "Freezing a cartel's bank accounts before lunch."
He chuckled low. "Just another day."
"Not for me," she said. Her voice went quieter. "You made me feel like I'm not alone anymore. After IA… that mattered."
Beau stopped walking. She turned to face him, dark eyes serious.
"I told you we could keep it casual," he said. "But I don't think I can pretend you're just a fling anymore."
She looked at him for a long breath. "Me neither."
Wind played with her hair. Somewhere behind them Zeus barked once and then went back to chasing sand crabs.
"So what do we do?" she asked softly.
Beau thought, then said simply, "We keep it ours. Quiet. Until it's right to tell the team."
Her shoulders eased, relief mingled with nerves. "I like that."
He smiled, small and real. "Me too."
She reached out and took his hand. Just that — quiet, sure. They walked on like that, two warriors in the sand pretending for a moment that life could be simple.
Setting Stakes
At the far curve of the beach she paused. "They'll keep coming for you."
"They'll try," Beau said, calm but honest.
"I'll have your back."
He looked at her with quiet warmth. "I know."
Something settled between them then — not loud, not dramatic, but strong.
Back to the World
As sunset turned the water gold, they turned back toward the Bronco. Zeus bounded up to heel, happy and sandy.
Kono laughed and ruffled the dog's head. "You're a hero too, you know."
Zeus wagged furiously; Beau smiled at the sight.
"Think he likes you," Beau teased.
"Good. He's got taste."
They reached the truck, still hand in hand until the last second, when they let go naturally before stepping into public view. Secrets had their place — for now.
Quiet Ending
Later that night, Beau sat on his porch with a beer, Zeus at his feet. His phone buzzed: a simple text from Kono.
Kono: Tonight was good.
Beau: Yeah. It was.
Kono: Sleep well, cowboy.
Beau: You too, surfer girl.
He smiled into the dark. For a man who'd lived years in shadows and war zones, this was… light.
Inside, his gear waited, ready for whatever fight came next. But for once, he let himself feel the sand under his boots and the pull of something worth staying for.