Disclaimer: I do not own Hawaii Five-0, all I do own are my OC's and Original plot.
Sensitive topics might be spoken but only slightly and in the first chapter or so please keep any hurtful comments to yourself, other than that I ask you guys give this story a read and let me know what you think - I like constructive criticism and reviews... I love reviews...
Also, I would like to say that the story begins with an NCIS: LA cross-over, and certain NCIS: LA might be reoccurring characters but this isnot a cross-over.
Anyways, I will stop my ranting short and get on with the story - The first three chapters are Original Chapters and I'm quite happy with them. So if you're still reading... enjoy!
In the calm still of a suburb in California the peace was disturbed by the sound of the police calling out to each other as they taped off the area. The leader of the Crime Investigation Unit, Anthony Jameson, was there clutching a cup of coffee, he was a tall man with grey hair and equally grey eyes. His attention was drawn when a black SUV pulled up, and on the side there were yellow letters. MCCBI.
"These jokers again?" He grumbled.
Out of the car came a woman, she was at least 5'7", she wore a nicely tailored outfit and over it she wore a black vest emblazoned with her division's letters. What stood out the most about her was her Hijab. At her hip she had her badge and her side-arm was probably tucked under her vest.
"Ah, Inspector." She said smoothly.
"This is my crime scene." He said gruffly.
"We were contacted that the Vic is Muslim, this is our investigation now." She said as she looked at him. "I'm sorry, but you know how it goes."
He grumbled. The MCCBI stood for the Muslim Community of California Bureau of Investigation. A private investigative unit that was new to the area to insure that there was equality. In Anthony's opinion they didn't need one, but then someone from the MCCBI argued that crime is equal and not all Muslims are straight-forward. He had a strong aversion to it, but had to admit they did treat equally, if the suspect was Muslim they did not give preferential treatment and if the person was guilty they did everything they could to see that person tried accordingly. He supposed that was the good thing about them, but what annoyed him constantly was the fact they needed to use the CSI's intel more often than not, since they were new they did not have clearance to as much intel as they needed and often had to rely on them to find out where a suspect was, and simply to get background checks on them.
He supposed it could have been worse. The young woman who stood beside him was a Unit Leader, not much was known about her and he had his people do thorough checks on everyone in the MCCBI just to be sure, this girl Jumana 'Jo' Atif, they could trace her back to when she was about 18, but that was really it. Her team consisted of two men and two women, one of the men was crouching beside the body with Anthony's men and Anthony looked down at her as she put her hands in her pocket. "Who told you to come?" He asked.
"We were notified after you ID'ed the Vic." She replied. "Yunis Shakhshir."
"Know him?" Anthony asked as they walked towards the body.
"Probably, we had to contact your people to get to know who he is – 20 years old, 5 foot 8, Jordanian native, but has been living here since he was about six, he's a citizen – his dad is dead, his mother works at a dentist's office – three sisters, two brothers." She spoke it like she had memorized it all. "No previous offenses save for a ticket – he's a sophomore at UCI, studying Biology – engaged to a Mira Attalla…" She crouched down. "The kid's perfect."
"If he's perfect, why is he lying here?" He asked.
"That – is a good question." She said. She got up again and accepted a cup of coffee from someone.
"Does it have anything to do with the case you're working on?" He asked her.
"The Cipher case?" She asked. "I don't know – we'd have to examine him, the suspect's M.O is really sly." She huffed. They leaned against a car.
"M.O? How many bodies do you have lined up?" He asked her.
"This would make the tenth." She said. "Ten very unhappy families." She stuck out her bottom lip in thought. "Any thoughts?"
"What's the -?" He started.
Jo nodded. "They're lashed on their backs, and the alcohol level in their blood is obscenely high…" She sipped her coffee. "We think the Suspect does it on purpose – also there is another thing." She said as one of her team found a letter in the pocket of the vic. "He's leaving a paper trail, Tony." She looked at him.
"Bread-crumbs – whatever." She took the letter; it was in an evidence bag. He leaned over to look at it. "This person – whoever the hell he is – is toying with us." She pointed at the paper. "You see this?" She pushed herself off the car. "This, my dear man, is a verse from the Quran – below it is a series of numbers –" The letter was typed down so finding the person who wrote them would be impossible. He saw a neat row of numbers; each number was a series of three numbers, double digits, sometimes single digits, and between each set of numbers there were dashes. "This is the reason why it is called the Cipher Case, Detective Jameson."
"What the hell is this?" He asked her.
"A Book Cipher." She said simply. "Each number corresponds with the line of the book it is in, the word, and the letter, we've not only been investigating in our department – Tony – we've also been forced to become cryptographers." She handed the letter to one of her team.
"Have you cracked the code?" Anthony asked earnestly – he didn't like the MCCBI, but working with Jo sure made things much more interesting.
"Not yet." She admitted. "I've been through every possible book – but it's just…" She shrugged.
"And the Quranic Verses?" He asked her.
"I have a sick feeling this guy is probably screwing around with us, dude." She said honestly. "I have two suspicions – one… He's one of us, but he's totally lost it… Or…" She hesitated.
"Or this is a Hate Crime." He said.
"And I absolutely hate using that term when it comes to cases," She said. "But yes, that is one of my suspicions."
Anthony was perplexed. Ten victims and they had no idea what they were up against. He looked at the tired woman who was standing beside him, he had been told that she was dedicated 110% to whatever case she took and she rarely ever slept. "I'm going to have to consult someone." She said finally.
"Remember that guy they were talking about a week ago?" She asked. "He's… some sort of savant?"
"The crazy guy from Santa Barbra?" He asked.
"He's not crazy," She said dryly. "He's just different, but I hear he's excellent with cracking codes."
"But what's the point if you don't have a book?" He asked her.
She shrugged and stared as they bagged the body. "I'm willing to try anything at this point, who knows – before long this guy will move on to other people – I don't want this to get out of my department or else you guys will be swamped." She huffed. "It's been two weeks, and ten deaths – I'm starting to feel like I'm not doing my job right."
"I can set up my team at your HQ." He said. "If it helps any, that way you can have all the intel you need." He nodded to his team.
"Are you sure? I know you don't like us all that much."
He chuckled. "Don't like the people you work for, Jo, you? I don't mind." He nodded to the EMT's before they drove off. "Plus I heard you are under-staffed."
"We are." She replied. "After the Coulter case…?" She frowned.
Marlon Coulter was a man who had been swindled and then stabbed to death by a one Rashad Shah. Personally Jo hated working on these cases; it made her sick to her stomach when she saw someone of her faith stray so badly, badly enough to actually kill someone. Sometimes they were simply Victims, but either way – since she accepted the job she had to learn to have a strong stomach, a stronger stomach than she was used to having. People were reluctant to work for the MCCBI, and she didn't really blame them, not only was the name a mouthful, sometimes it made her question just how questionable her work was, she was adamant with treating all suspects equally, Muslim or otherwise. Her boss, admittedly, was not too happy about that. He wanted her to find a way to prove that the Muslim Community was without fault.
She wasn't saying that it is, because she knew it was, but she was not saying that everyone was evil – just like not every white-man was. It was about stupid people who made bad judgments and took lives without any regard to the people around them, and she hated that. She felt that it was her duty as an American to insure that everyone was safe, regardless of their faith, nationality, or color. It was her humble little effort to prove that America was indeed a place for people of all faiths.
Even if the people within it didn't always display such a mindset. She thanked Anthony and then she climbed into her SUV, her team waved to her to get going saying they would follow her soon and she didn't doubt that. She had to hit the books and try to figure out the letters.
The drive to HQ was a long one, it took her forty five minutes just to pull up to the building, when she walked in she had to pass through metal detectors, behind the secretary in the lobby all sorts of flags stood behind her, from every country. The secretary smiled broadly. "Jo!"
"Annie." She greeted. Annie Jones was a young woman who was fresh out of college; she always smelled nice and always looked perfect. "Any mail for me?" She asked.
"On your desk." She replied. "Also there is someone here from Jameson's office," He face suddenly had a sly expression. "A Derek Anderson."
Jo scowled but pink touched her cheeks anyways. "What did I tell you about doing that?" She asked her.
"Do what?" Annie said innocently.
"Get cheeky when he is here." Jo said.
"Hey, you're the one with the crush, not me." Annie said.
Jo let out an annoyed groan. "Yes, I can see it was a mistake telling you, next time I'll keep it to myself –" She reached over and patted the top of Annie's head who pouted indignantly. Jo removed her vest as she walked to the elevator and stepped inside; she hit the 7 and waited for it to glide up.
"Wait!" Someone cried out. "Hold the elevator!"
She quickly stuck herself in the door as it tried to close to see a very frazzled looking young man, he was skinny, with black frame glasses, hair that stuck out in every direction, and he had at least half a dozen silver cases with him. He wore a plaid shirt and worn out skinny jeans, under his shirt she could see a Superman T-Shirt. He ran in and set all his things down. "Phew, thank you – kind lady." He said and the doors shut.
"No problem." She said and hit the 7 again.
He squinted at the buttons as he pushed up his glasses and nodded. "Right where I'm going." He said. He then turned to her. "Oh right! I'm Jimmy, Jimmy Mason!" He stuck his hand in her face to shake hers.
She chuckled and awkwardly shook his hand. "Nice to meet you, Jimmy Mason." She said.
"I'm looking for a Jo Atif?" He said nervously. "You see my boss sent me here – Anthony Jameson…? I'm supposed to meet up with my Co-Worker Derek –"
"I'm Jo." She said with a grin. "Again, nice to meet you – I'm guessing you're the one who's going to guide us through the internet?" She asked.
He chuckled at her joke. "Yes, that would be me." He said with a grin.
"Welcome aboard." She said as the doors opened. She grabbed some of his things and then led him into a semi-empty room; one side was occupied by a network of computers that was only half on. "You can set up in here, my unit is over there –" She pointed to a bullpen in the farthest corner. "And my own private office is just beyond it – if you need anything at all – we used to have Tech. but he left because his wife just had a baby." She gestured to the room. "Feel free to use whatever the hell you want."
"Thanks, I'll notify you when I'm all set up." He said.
She nodded. "I'll be in my office if you need anything." She said before she walked off. She walked into her office as she walked to it she looked around to see any sigh of that familiar face Annie had warned her about.
She frowned and walked in to her office, the sunlight filtered from her window so she didn't need to open the lights just yet as she made a beeline to her desk. She saw the letters on it and grabbed them. The first one was something from the IRS; she would have to get back to that later. She put it aside and saw her cell-phone bill, it was for her work phone and so far anything that was related to work was paid for by the MCCBI so she would have to give it in to the director.
"Feel like turning around?" A deep voice said from somewhere behind her.
She let out a surprised cry and turned around clutching her heart. "Geez – Derek – what the hell do you think you're doing?!" She yelled at him.
He was amused; his feet were crossed on the coffee table that was placed right in front of the couch in her office. "I thought you were more aware than that." He said.
"I need to put a freaking bell on your or something." She said as she threw a stress ball she kept on her desk at him.
He easily caught it before it could bounce off his tan face. Derek Anderson was a tall man who stood at least four inches taller than her, he had blond hair he slicked back and blue eyes that always glinted wickedly, his face was tan from his many hours spent in the sun and he wore his typical attire, some sort of band t-shirt, and cargos he tucked in to combat boots. "I bet you're happy to see me." He said slyly.
"I'm not, jerk." She lied as she turned back to her mail, her face felt like it was about to burn off. She was smooth when it came to crime scenes – and dealing with suspects – but when it came to dealing with men in a casual setting, the woman turned into a shy teen. She inwardly cursed her awkwardness and paused when her ball bounced off her head and landed in a half-full cup of tea, she quickly backed away before it splashed her.
"Nice." Derek said as he got up.
"Seriously, dude, what are you doing here?" She asked as she turned to look at him again now that her face didn't feel hot anymore.
"I'm working for Jameson, remember?" He said with a shrug. "I was asked to help you guys solve this Cipher case." He smirked at her. "I thought you'd be happy to see me again."
She had to mask a blush with a snort as she turned away. "Yeah right."
"Anyways, the rest of the team will be here soon." He said.
"I'll brief you all when they do get here." She said as she sat at her desk, she pulled out her stress ball and it dripped of the cold amber liquid. "You owe me a new one." She said.
"Get over your anxiety." He said simply.
"Why don't I claw at your face to accomplish that?" She said in a saccharine tone.
He chuckled. "But why would you damage something you like?" He asked slyly.
"You're right, would you mind taking a long walk off a short pier?" She asked. She then picked up her phone and dialed a number. She waited for a moment until a male voice answered.
"Yeah, Boss-Lady?" The voice said jovially.
"Ayman," She said. "I need you to go to Santa Barbra."
"Santa Barbra?" Derek said.
Ayman echoed the question. She let out a sigh. "Yes, I need you to find Arnold Hanson." She said.
"The Idiot Savant?" Derek said.
She glared at him. "You don't call them Idiot Savants – they are Savants." She replied.
"Who's with you, boss?" Ayman asked slyly.
"None of your business." She snapped. "Just get me Hanson."
"Address?" He asked.
She typed on her laptop quickly and then she paused. "I'll send you the address in –" She hit the enter button. "Okay, you should have them by now, if Hanson doesn't feel like joining you tell him we have a real nice puzzle for him to solve, he'll eat that up." She said.
"Got it." Ayman said before she hung up.
"Why do you need the Savant, Joey?" Derek asked.
She got up and tossed the ball in the trash. "You will see soon." She said.
Jimmy burst in. "Jo, I've set up – uh… Derek, hi…"
"Hey, Jimbo." He said as he ruffled the young man's hair.
Jimmy obviously didn't like that and he cast a look at Jo who looked amused. "Leave him alone, Derek." She said evenly. "So you're all set, Jimmy?" She asked.
"Yeah." He nodded. "Whenever you guys need me…" He pointed out the door and nodded. "I'm all set."
She grinned. "Thanks." He nodded again and left. She chuckled. "He's cute."
"Cute?" Derek said. "He's a nerd."
"Knowledge is attractive." She retorted.
He sat down again and put his feet up as he grabbed an apple from the bowl she had on the table. "Right," He said as he bit into it. "I forgot you were a nerd too."
"I prefer the term… Intellectual." She replied.
About half an hour later her team arrived, Nadia Faisal was a tall blonde who could really pack a punch, while Aisha Khan was a cute little short woman who wore Hijab like Jo, at 5'5" she was the gentlest person in the unit, but also had the ability to be scary. They were followed by Tariq Andrews, a recent convert who had previously been a cop and as recruited to help them for his expertise. She walked out and Derek followed closely, Nadia, Aisha, and Tariq instantly recognized him and they all had smirks on their faces.
"Shut up." She said as she pointed at them. "Anything new?" She asked.
"No, the rest of Jameson's crew should be here soon, and Yunis is downstairs with Maria." Maria Fuentes was their Medical Examiner, she was the best of the best, and while Jo loved hanging around her, the woman sometimes scared her… she found too much joy in her job, and she often talked to the corpses – Jo suspected she enjoyed the company of the dead more than the living.
"What about what evidence we have?" She asked.
"Laila is analyzing them." Aisha said.
Laila Murad was their Forensic Analyst; she was an insanely strict woman who disliked it when people messed up her lab. "Okay, great – what news on Hanson?"
"Ayman is bringing him in." Tariq said as he sat down at his desk and began to type away. "Also we were told to let you know that the rest of Jameson's team is on their way up." He said without looking up.
"Okay." She said with a nod, when she turned she bumped into Derek who had been standing too close, she could hear her team snort to keep from laughin, Derek chuckled as she stepped around him and went into her office.
About five minutes later a red-head by the name of Andrea Johnson, and a man with black hair by the name of Drew Landon had joined them. All that was left was for them to wait for Andrew Hanson so that they could get to work.