“To Hawaii?” Caroline picked her head up off my chest but did not let go of me.
I ignored the Americanized pronunciation of my home. I lifted my free hand so I could wipe the tears staining her cheeks. As I did Caroline’s left cheek, Samantha did her right. Mimicking me almost exactly with her small hand.
“Nishi told you?” Either that, or she’d guessed from my features.
Caroline nodded. “I’ve never seen the ocean before.”
I wasn’t an expert on the Mainland by any means, but I was familiar enough with it to know that New York bordered an ocean. “I’ll show you.” I jiggled Samantha on my hip. Her giggle was pure innocence. “Both of you.”
“You’re serious? You’ll bring us with you? I don’t have to… I don’t have to go back to…” Her voice trailed off and she cast her gaze away from me.
I pulled her chin back. “You’ll never have to go back to them. Whatever you need, Caroline, whatever you want… I’ll take care of you now.”
Her smile lit up the room. “I can’t believe it,” she breathed. “We’re going to Hawaii.”
I smiled back at her. “To paradise,” I corrected.
Footsteps behind me alerted me to the pretense of another. I looked over my shoulder to see Spirit in the doorway.
“Howzit?” I asked, frowning at his expression.
“We can hear movement inside the room,” my club brother told me. “We better get back downstairs.”
Chapter Three
Two Months Before the Wedding
O‘ahu, HI
I’d always been a collector of rare and antique weapons. Long before I attended my first arms deal, Kayl, Aloiki, and I joined our class on a school field trip to theKa Hale Mo?olelo Ho?okolokolo o Ali?iolani, or the King Kamehameha V Judiciary History Center. The only reason it was exciting for any of us was because it was an excuse to miss regular classes. By the time we were ten, we already knew all about Kamehameha, the Warrior King who united the Hawai‘ian islands under one kingdom. There was a festival each year in June, so our youthful asses who thought we already knew everything there was to learn in the world hadnointerest in paying attention to teachers, guides, or any other information presented to us on this trip.
But while Aloiki and Kayl spent the day beingkolohe, or goofing around, I found my passion. The artifacts displayed—likepololu, or spears, andnewa, or shark tooth clubs—were beautiful. The giftshop had toy versions of them, poor replicas made to appease tourists. They did nothingfor me.
I was twelve before I managed to save up enough for my firstmea kaua, a traditional Hawai‘ian weapon. I had created my own prior to this, but my craftsmanship was severely lacking. Theleiomanowas a short-range weapon, almost like a paddle or a flat club, with shark teeth around the edge for slashing. Some are made from bone or koa wood, but the one I purchased was made from a sea turtle shell. While the law had various rulings between possession and carry, I had no intention of letting anyone of authority know of my new prize. I did not agree with poaching animals to use their unique attributes for our needs, but even my grandparents hadn’t been born yet when myleiomanowas built, so I did not have an issue with the fact that it was made from a sea turtle shell. Unlike shark teeth, which were a dime a dozen around my home, it was rarer to find an intact sea turtle shell, but my ancestors would have respected the life they took to create the weapon, as profit would not have been their goal.
Aloiki and Kayl were the only people I ever showed my purchases to. My best friends thought themea kauawas cool, but they didn’t understand my fascination with them or share my desire to learn their history. That pedigree was important to me. But their reaction to my growing collection hinted at what others would also think, and I couldn’t keep doing small, part-time jobs to save up for new piece or pieces. Not if I wanted to be serious about my collection.
I was fifteen when I sold my first firearm. I didn’t mind guns, but I didn’t see the beauty in them the way I didmea kaua. And while I still had a growing collection of traditional weaponry, both personally and for retail, it became very apparent to me that modern weapons was where the money lay.
I started out small, island hopping to learn the players and the operations. Around this time, I’d already walked away from my parents. Aloiki’s parents had also just died, and I felt a responsibility to help with Kalea while Aloiki took over the family farm.
Kahoku Hikialani was an activist. But he wasn’t justsomeactivist around these parts, he wastheactivist. Kahoku stood for home, for our way of life. Many people revered him, more feared him. Aloiki was very angry after his father disappeared from his mother’s funeral, so it was understandable that he would seek an outlet for that anger. Kahoku gave him that, channeling Aloiki’s natural fighting talents to protect our land.
Along with keeping our home safe from poachers, pollution, and any disrespect towards our sacred lands, he went after those who would harm our people. Including drug dealers, arms dealers, and human traffickers.
When Aloiki introduced me to Kahoku, we struck a deal. He would supply me with any confiscated weapons his people came across and I would warn him about any mass deals on the islands. Sometimes I even had my own guns returned to me by him, making the transaction a win-win for me.
The Pacific Ocean was huge. Over five thousand miles across that terrified even major navies. In World War II, the United States attempted to cross it, and it took them three years and an untold amount of fuel. It’s a vast, open space of death. If the sea didn’t kill you, the weather would. There was a reason Japan only crossed as far as Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941. The Pacific just was not worth crossing.
Which was where I came in.
Overall, Hawai‘i had a low rate of (registered) gun owners. For some, I was a storage unit, holding their weapons until they could arrange passage either east or west of my island. For others, I was a broker, taking a cut of the sale I arranged between two outside parties. For a few, I was a finder, willing to track down, and sometimes appropriate, the weapon in question. On occasion, I was called in as an authenticator, because even in gunrunning, there was fraud.
I wasn’t a major runner. Major crime organizations like TheYakuza, The Company, B14, and The Triad still held the majority of the power in the underground, and for the most part, we didn’t bother each other. I didn’t have a hand in identity theft, cybercrimes, or the flesh trade, and as long as we each stayed in our lanes, there was an uneasy, unspoken truce.
Which was not the case for today.
Four men were chained to the wall before me. Though I lived in Hale’iwa, which was on the northern part of O’ahu, I had a number of storage spaces throughout the islands and even some underwater places for more high-profile clients. I’d been called to Kauai after my employees caught a break-in in progress.