A/N: Thank you so much for your continued positive feedback and encouragement; it means more to me than you can imagine. I will admit, I felt like I limped through those last few chapters, but your kind words inspired me and I find myself with all sorts of new ideas now, and ready to continue.

Part three now in progress - To the Gates of Hell and New Jersey will take the team beyond the island as they fight crime, battle personal demons, and yet still manage to find joy and humor in their lives. Caviness and Kono will continue to cross paths professionally and personally, Catherine will take it upon herself to look out for Steve's best interests, Danny and Rachel will find excuses to spend time together, and Mr. and Mrs. Hart tend to the pain that hides underneath Steve and Jax's kevlar.

This is *not* the happily-ever-after story (yet); but there will be something small and cuddly.

Here is a sneak peak at chapter one - please look for the NEW story posted to continue!

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To the Gates of Hell and New Jersey - Chapter 1

Kono sat behind the desk in Kamekona's small but tidy office. He had taken off a few minutes before, with Danny and Jax, loosely disguised in shorts, t-shirts, and sunglasses. Danny, of course, had been grousing the whole time; while Jax looked entirely too excited about the whole situation.

"But I like helicopters, Danny," she'd said, as they'd walked the short distance from the office to the helicopter. "And who doesn't like to look at the island from a helicopter? What are you, a ninety year old man?"

Kono had smothered a grin and proceeded to look appropriately busy; the desk drawer beside her open and holding her Heckler and Koch at the ready. Someone had orchestrated a string of robberies, targeting the local helicopter tour businesses. He would scope out the business, generally confirming what he had clearly come to expect: any particular brawn of the operation was usually the pilot; leaving one or two office personnel behind. Once the helicopter had taken off, he would walk into the office, pull a gun, demand the cash - and any belongings left behind by the customers. Tourists usually didn't travel light, they carried tote bags and backpacks, and with space being tight in the cabin of the helicopter, they usually left those things behind in the care of the office employees.

It was, Steve had grudgingly admitted, a fairly clever scheme: low risk, moderate reward, generally compliant victims. It was also terrible for the industry, and it needed to stop. Descriptions were sketchy at best: the thief was male, average build, always fully masked. Voice was unremarkable, but probably native. No one had ever remembered hearing a car, and the one business that had a security camera didn't yield any useful images.

And so it was that Kono found herself sitting, for the second day in a row, at Kamekona's desk, while one of his many cousins who usually filled the position was off enjoying a day of surfing. Kono sighed wistfully at the irony. She was impressed, really, with the tidy ledgers and neatly kept appointment book. Kamekona's schemes may have been more well-thought out than they really gave him credit for - especially if these bank statements, which Kono's curiousity could not resist, were any indication.

"Kono, we have a visual on someone heading your way on foot," Chin's voice came quietly over her cell phone, resting just next to her service weapon. An earpiece would have been a dead give-away, so they simply went low-tech. "Coming in the back door."

"Copy," Kono murmured. She heard the scuffling sound as the back lock - replaced with a poorly designed cheap door knob just for the occasion - clicked open. There was a small storage area at the back of the office; separated just by movable cubicle panels, not even a true wall. She could hear everything.

"Okay, he used a credit card to disable the lock," Grover's voice came. "This is our guy; once the door closes behind him we'll move in."

"Kono, be prepared for him to break his usual pattern," Steve cautioned. "Don't assume, and don't let him come in behind you or in a blind spot." This was the part that Steve hated; leaving one of his people exposed, even for a moment. So far, no one had been injured and no shots had even been fired, the terrified secretaries wisely complying with the armed robber; still, as people got more desperate, or more arrogant, things could change.

Kono swiveled the office chair so that it faced the opening in the panels, quietly sliding the safety off her gun.

A man burst through the opening. "Don't move, I've got a gun -"

He broke off, looking at Kono in confusion.

"Yeah? Well, mine is bigger, jackass," Kono drawled. "Five-O; put down your weapon."

To her shock and dismay, the man complied immediately, falling to his knees and putting his weapon on the ground. His eyes were wide with fear, and as Steve, Chin, and Grover came loudly through the back door, boots clattering and stomping, he linked his shaking hands over his head.

"Please," he said to Kono, desperate. "I was just trying to buy back my daughter."