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"Now it's my crime scene."
Those could have been, should have been, the last words he heard from McGarrett, and in a kinder world, they might have been, but the world hates Danny Williams, and he's not exactly feeling all that generous towards it, himself, so he's honestly not even a little surprised when the authoritative rap on his door comes attached to a too-tall, too-broad, too-aggressive Navy SEAL with revenge on the mind and Daddy issues from here back to the boardwalks of Wildwood.
He hates him.
Because of this joker, he's home in the middle of the day, instead of at work, work, he might point out, where he's attempting to catch the guy who did this to McGarrett, Sr., which is normally what the child of a murder victim wants, right? They want the cops to do their damn job and haul the dirtbag in for justice.
They don't storm in and take over like it's their goddamn platoon out in fucking Afghanistan.
Except McGarrett, okay, he doesn't seem to have gotten the memo. There's a reason officers don't get involved if the deceased was a family member, and this is exactly why: it makes people angry, irrational.
(He hopes to hell this is McGarrett being irrational.)
It's too close, too personal -- and it's also not his case anymore, so he's got no idea why McGarrett, shirt sticking to his skin from the soaking rain that just hit, because it rains every goddamn day here, what a fucking miracle, Hallelujah, is standing on his doorstep, because it isn't that.
(And it's not that either, he refuses, it's not happening, and there's no possible way this whackjob noticed. It could be he doesn't even have a timer, or got his blown off while single-handedly stopping an insurrection with a couple of grenades and a can-do attidtude.)
So he just stands and waits, with one hand still on the doorknob, ready to slam it shut just as soon as possible.
Those could have been, should have been, the last words he heard from McGarrett, and in a kinder world, they might have been, but the world hates Danny Williams, and he's not exactly feeling all that generous towards it, himself, so he's honestly not even a little surprised when the authoritative rap on his door comes attached to a too-tall, too-broad, too-aggressive Navy SEAL with revenge on the mind and Daddy issues from here back to the boardwalks of Wildwood.
He hates him.
Because of this joker, he's home in the middle of the day, instead of at work, work, he might point out, where he's attempting to catch the guy who did this to McGarrett, Sr., which is normally what the child of a murder victim wants, right? They want the cops to do their damn job and haul the dirtbag in for justice.
They don't storm in and take over like it's their goddamn platoon out in fucking Afghanistan.
Except McGarrett, okay, he doesn't seem to have gotten the memo. There's a reason officers don't get involved if the deceased was a family member, and this is exactly why: it makes people angry, irrational.
(He hopes to hell this is McGarrett being irrational.)
It's too close, too personal -- and it's also not his case anymore, so he's got no idea why McGarrett, shirt sticking to his skin from the soaking rain that just hit, because it rains every goddamn day here, what a fucking miracle, Hallelujah, is standing on his doorstep, because it isn't that.
(And it's not that either, he refuses, it's not happening, and there's no possible way this whackjob noticed. It could be he doesn't even have a timer, or got his blown off while single-handedly stopping an insurrection with a couple of grenades and a can-do attidtude.)
So he just stands and waits, with one hand still on the doorknob, ready to slam it shut just as soon as possible.
(no subject)
Date: 2014-01-20 03:13 pm (UTC)Making Danny's mouth twist at that non-answer, head shaking, even as he accelerates out of the turn. "Sorry, buddy, that's not good enough."
If this is going to work -- this being this partnership, however long or short it might be, not the numbers on his wrist that he's sure must be some kind of blip or malfunction -- he needs to know what's happening, both on the ground and in Steve's head. That's how partnerships work. "If we're gonna be partners, then you need to start telling me your plans, okay? I am not on your team, I'm not just gonna take orders without knowing why."
The explanation gets waved towards the steering wheel with one hand, the other taking care of following the road. He's not a soldier. He's a cop, and Steve said partners, so he can grit his teeth and get through it, but if that's going to happen, then this balance of power is going to shift, and it's gonna shift right now.
"You and me, we're in this together now, and you need to start trusting me so I can do my damn job. We have got to be on the same page, or there's no point to this."
(no subject)
Date: 2014-01-20 03:32 pm (UTC)Someone got their face in the dirt, someone else got hit, and they might make it through this without someone dying.
But he's being, if way too wordy, reasonable, Steve supposes. He always liked to get on the ground with as much information as possible. It might have only been a few questions on Doran but he already had the file. Danny had nothing on Chin, and admittedly less on understanding this island than most haole's had at six months. But it wasn't the worst request. It was probably actually the first really worthy one.
It wasn't even annoying or insulting or overreaching by anyway, and if Chin Ho Kelly got anything anywhere in his Dad's file it was probably only as a footnote. One of dozens of rookies his dad had trained through the years. His Dad, the good cop, with a soft, but firm touch where it came to training and welcoming people in. The kind of cop people never even remembered was haole-skinned because he did his job so well. Not that his family had seen anything of that man in decades.
"Chin Ho Kelly." Steve pushed out the name, to push away that last thought. "He was trained by my Dad, but he's off the force now." That much he knew was true. Given the uniform. Unless it was a secondary job. But it was an odd choice if it was one. "He's local, and he's unattached, which means he might have his ear to the ground still, and know where we can find intel on the smugglers."
The less official the better. The less chance that somehow Hesse might catch wind of Steve coming for him.
(no subject)
Date: 2014-01-20 03:59 pm (UTC)He was going to say something else, something along the lines of was that so hard? and he probably still will, but he's caught offguard for a second by a faint push of familiarity. "I know that name."
He's heard it once or twice. Even a haole who can't catch a break is a few circles above a dirty cop, and Chin Ho Kelly is HPD's favorite worst-case scenario, a cautionary tale to cops who step out of line or feel tempted to start fleecing a little of the take in cash or drug busts. Meka mentioned it one night, but didn't offer any details or opinions, and Danny didn't ask.
Personally, he doesn't know if the guy was rotten or not. He'd rather believe the best of the cops he works with, even if they're assholes to him, but then again, he didn't want to believe it of Peterson, either, and look where that landed them.
Which leaves him with the question of whether he tells Steve that his dad's protege left the force because there was dirt all over his name and career, even if it was never proven.
Then again, maybe someone like that is exactly what they need. "So where's he now?"
(no subject)
Date: 2014-01-20 04:16 pm (UTC)But Danny doesn't say any more about that. Doesn't add that he knows the man, himself. Just that name. Which really wouldn't surprise Steve. The Kelly's were all over the force even when he was a kid. Chin's dad, and one of his cousins, maybe, or maybe he was a brother, and Steve's sure there was more, but it was ages ago. Even remembering the face when his name had been called out was remembering through sludge, to a time and place Steve didn't spend much time looking at.
"He was working security at the Arizona this morning." Where Steve'd been waiting for Jameson. When he'd turned her down for everything. Every ounce of the bullshit and desperation that he could smell on each of word. Except he'd gone back on that, too. For his dad, and Hesse. Which wasn't what Danny asked. Facts. Black and white. With no middle ground seeping in everywhere, mucking it up.
(no subject)
Date: 2014-01-20 05:42 pm (UTC)A glance over his shoulder, and there's just the faintest crinkling around the corners of his eyes, that's probably just from driving towards the sun-struck waterfront and the glittering monuments there. "See? Was that easy, or what?"
He'll reserve judgment on the whole Chin Ho Kelly decision until they actually meet the guy. Danny knows all too well what it's like to be shoved systematically out of a group that's supposed to have your back, no matter what, and if the guy turns out to have just been in the wrong place at the wrong time, he's got Danny's sympathy, for sure.
Still, working security. Which sounds bad, until he figures he should try to make a good impression, because if this thing goes south, he's pretty positive he'll be the next unfortunate cop to be drummed unceremoniously out of HPD, deserved or not.
(no subject)
Date: 2014-01-20 09:21 pm (UTC)All barely catching in the tucked edges of Steve's mouth, and the slant of how his eyes shift over to Danny even when his face doesn't turn that way. Like he's not quite sure he believed Danny said that. That anyone on the planet said things like that, at least not like that, when they weren't speaking to children and talking about tying their shoelaces.
Steve might be regrouping his opinions on Williams, but at this second, emotional instability might be in the list, too. Not that pretty much every person he'd ever worked with in the field didn't fall into that box. But the fact Williams is almost smiling now, is a lifting flip. But, hell, it's better than getting into another fight on the grounds of the Arizona, which even Steve would point out was too much, too far, and too in the wrong place.
Really all Danny gets is that look, and Steve looking back out the windshield, pointing toward the lot, "Park over there."
(no subject)
Date: 2014-01-20 11:59 pm (UTC)It shouldn't amuse him, but it kind of does. That look. It's actually kind of a good sign, because it means they can get under each others' skin, and if that doesn't wind up with them trying to kill each other, it'll make for a decent partnership.
None of that stops him from quipping "what, over there?" with a sardonic nod to the parking signs and the clear lot, but at least it's not actually sharp or exasperated.
Huh. Who knew. Maybe that apology is accepted, after all.
The wind is whipping when he pulls in and parks, and it lashes his tie against his chest until he puts a hand over it to keep it down, heads around the trunk of the car to meet Steve. "So your guy. See him around, still?"
(no subject)
Date: 2014-01-21 12:26 am (UTC)Steve looked over the people present, at Danny's question, without looking back at the man. A vague narrow of his eyes, skimming height and build and color. But none of them pinged right. None of them was the person he was looking for. (And none of them, though he wouldn't be there at all, by any means, was Victor Hesse.)
Steve started walking across the lot, assuming Danny would follow him, the way he'd come around the car.
"There should be a Security Office." He hadn't looked earlier, but it was a historical site.
(no subject)
Date: 2014-01-21 12:51 am (UTC)He's looking around, steps quick to keep up with Steve, arms swinging at his sides, but taking it in. "Looks like over there, in the visitors center." Lifting a hand, to point, where a few tourists are trickling out of a breezy building. "I think I remember seeing it before. Me and Grace, we came here one time, pretty early on. She likes historical stuff."
It's an aside. Barely anything at all, certainly nothing like everything he could say about Grace, if he wanted to. Just a few casually dropped words, because he can't help it, because they did come here, and he can't help but remember it.
Yellow-shirted security guards are dotted around the premises, but he's not sure which one's Chin Ho Kelly. "Think he's still on shift?"
(no subject)
Date: 2014-01-21 01:21 am (UTC)There's almost a second where he tries to see it. How anyone else must. Without a relative down in the deep. Without a childhood full of events out here, paying homage to that memory, respect to a legacy, planning to grow up and do it justice. Someone who was just young, just seeing it as some historical place. He can't really. He can't without losing the meaning, and he can't do that any more than he can really like at all that its empty. Half like it's forgotten, half like maybe its only remembered by children who like historical things.
He's walking quickly, even though he's not trying to outpace Danny this time. Direct, but it's actually comparable.
"If not, we can ask for his personnel file. Find where he is now." Skipped step up the sidewalk and continuing straight on.
(no subject)
Date: 2014-01-21 01:52 am (UTC)Part of him is shouting that he shouldn't just be rolling along with all of this, that Steve is still quite possibly unhinged and definitely dangerous and that he should just head back to HPD and swallow his pride for a job, but it's surprisingly easy to quell, because he's not sure he wants to do any of that.
Instead, he's running through child-trafficking cases in the six months since he's been here, wondering if any of them might be the guy they're looking for. It's not that HPD has caught any, recently, but they know it's happening. Hawaii is in too good a spot to pass up, between mainland USA and Japan, China, countries where visas take too long and might never come through anyway. Nothing's coming to mind, but who knows? Maybe Chin Ho Kelly will know something he doesn't.
The visitor center is of the kind recognizable the world over: men checking purses and bags, asking tourists to turn out their pockets. It's all fairly low-key, and Danny grimaces.
Nothing wrong with being a security guard, but he's pretty sure he'd be dead of boredom in less than a day.
(no subject)
Date: 2014-01-21 04:00 am (UTC)Some of them have the right coloring, but it's still the wrong person. Wrong colored shirts. It's really only about those two seconds before Steve done with the looking, while arriving and having arrived. Danny's at his side, in his peripheral, waiting and Steve just goes for forward. Straight shot, straight line, heads for the guy closest. Checking bags. Waits only long enough to get through the two people in line.
Before he can be tipping his head in a nod, and his hand with coming straight out the gate.
"We're looking for Chin Ho Kelly. He was here this morning. He still around?"
The kid, because the one in here, has to be a kid, he can't be even half past twenty, gives them both a look, up and down like he's got some ability to tell anything just by their clothes and them standing there. But Steve can pinpoint the second his eyes pass over Danny's badge, stop, retrack on it, and then he's looking back at Steve. "Yeah, brah. He took a kid to office not five back. You want me to go get him?"
Steve doesn't want more people, so there's a fast, easy shake of his head. "We've got it. If you'll just point the way."
(no subject)
Date: 2014-01-22 12:21 am (UTC)He wonders, as they head past, what exactly would necessitate getting hauled into the security office, here. Did some kid try to smuggle a water bottle past the security line? Maybe a can of paint?
Sure, the Arizona memorial is an important spot, but like the Liberty Bell, or the Washington Monument, not like it's a library full of state secrets. "You think maybe there's a bunch of criminal lowlifes hanging around a national monument?"
All he's saying is, it can't be the world's most stimulating job.
(no subject)
Date: 2014-01-22 12:59 am (UTC)The Arizona wasn't it. The Arizona was a dust bowl.
But at least its office stood out. With that helpful small sign next to the door telling you exactly what it was, like there was some other barrage of doors everyone was missing back here, that might be mistaken for it. Which there wasn't. He pressed forward for it with direct, quick steps, reaching up to knock with one hand, while his other was already going for the doorknob and pushing the whole thing open.
Standing in the doorway, taking Danny's tiny criminal in the shape of a small kid at the table and Chin standing off to one side of the table. Whatever this was, their thing was still far more important on any scale anywhere. Besides, the kid already looked like he was ready to piss himself as it was. Steve tipped a nod toward behind them, somewhere away from this place and that kid. "You got a minute?"
"Sure," Chin nodded, looking surprised at the interruption. But maybe even relieved for it. Since he turned back to the kid, making a gesture toward the toward door. "Go on back to your parents. Just don't do it again, 'eh?"
(no subject)
Date: 2014-01-22 01:17 am (UTC)Not that they've got a look, exactly, but there's nothing shifty, suspicious, or unnerving about the guy. He's clear-eyed and clean-shaven, and even in his horrible rent-a-cop uniform, he looks relaxed and authoritative.
Danny wonders if maybe HPD is just crap at picking out the good ones from the bad.
Still, he was interrogating a small child, who nods, looking terrified, and breaks for the door, barely giving Danny time to step aside, lift his hands out of the way. "Hey, he looks like a real criminal mastermind," he jokes, but Chin Ho Kelly gives him a flat look, and he holds his hands up in surrender, gestures for Steve to go on, seeing as he's the one who brought them here.
(no subject)
Date: 2014-01-22 01:41 am (UTC)Heading back toward the place they'd come from, with little more than passing a hand through the air between them saying, "Chin Ho Kelly, Detective Danny Williams." And vice-versa, at least because it got that out of the way, before they started. Cards and introductions. "Can we grab a table? This shouldn't take too long."
Barely the space of a minute or two if the answer was no. A little longer if the answer was yes and they could get a lead on the smugglers. If Chin could point them toward anyone, even a shallow hint of a lead of the guys who did this.
"The canteen should have a few of those open. Over here," Chin said as he lead them toward a different area than where they'd just come from. A small, what looked far more touristy than Hawaiian little coffee bistro attached. The kind of place that looked like it didn't even remember what the dream of a lunch rush was anymore.
(no subject)
Date: 2014-01-22 01:52 am (UTC)The canteen has more than a few open tables: it's more like every table, and Danny slides onto the bench of the one Chin leads them to, flexing his left arm idly, feeling the pull of torn muscle and the strange sensation of tape tugging at his skin. It's not too bad, but it still aches; so does his right shoulder, but he won't give in and stretch that where Steve can see it.
He does, however, notice with some satisfaction that a pretty solid shiner is starting to bloom on Steve's cheek.
(no subject)
Date: 2014-01-22 02:11 am (UTC)Steve dug his phone out, flipping to the picture of the girl, shattered and shaken looking, even in the pressed stillness of the single picture, and holding it out toward Chin. "Her name is Chen Chi."
"Where'd you find her?"
Steve pulled his phone back, looking at it even as he was tuning it off. "Locked in a house." That wasn't even a house. It was a cupboard. A detail that mattered even if he didn't say it, setting the phone down on the table under her hands. "She came here to start a new life. They drugged her and turned her into a prostitute."
Chin leaned back, a huff of sudden awareness of what Steve was getting at, but it only made him pushed harder. More facts and as much as he could before there could be anything like an excuse or a no. He had to have the whole thing out there before there was any chance of it getting off the table. "The guy we're looking for is high profile. Victor Hesse. CIA. FBI. Interpol. He's on everyone's radar. Which means he didn't land here and get his passport stamped. He back-channeled in."
"Right," Chin was nodding, but he wasn't maintaining eye contact anymore. His shoulders drawing in and his gaze sliding to the sides and back. "So you think the same network that brought this girl to the island, smuggled Hesse in."
"Well, he made a fortune trafficking kids out of Malaysia." It's blank, bland and true. The numbers are horrorfic, and it wouldn't surprise Steve to find him up to anything he'd done before, here in Hawaii. Especially just the convenience of proving a point, trying to blackmail him into freeing Anton, killing Steve's dad as payback.
"You're looking for a snakehead, then," Chin supplied, not looking all that optimistic, even as Steve suddenly felt it. Finally getting toward looking in the direction of Danny, again. Like it was something Steve probably could have gotten even without asking him, given his friend there. "Local Chinese gangs the specialize in human smuggling."
(no subject)
Date: 2014-01-22 02:25 am (UTC)He's been listening with his arms crossed on the table, but now he interjects. "Okay, well, we need a name."
That's why they're here, because he's too new and Steve's too out of touch to have any idea who might be running this kind of racket on the island, but Chin Ho Kelly just laughs. It's not bitter, but it is self-effacing, and Danny's eyebrows furrow as he watches him.
"What, are you kidding?" The humor doesn't last long, as Chin spreads his hands beneath the table, glances down at himself, sardonic. "Look at me -- I'm a rubber gun, now."
"Come on." Danny's reaching a little across the table, coaxing and disbelieving all at once. "You were on the force for fifteen years."
So he must know someone. Must know the patterns, the people, the names. Meka, in that brief conversation, had said Chin Ho Kelly was one of the best they'd had, before everything went to hell for him, and Danny's not in the habit of calling Meka a liar.
Chin's laughter is gone; he's looking away, expression closed off and distant, but he wants to help. Danny knows it, can feel it, because it's the same thing he'd do, if he were kicked off the force. It wouldn't change wanting to be a force for good in the world, to save the kids like Chen Chi and put down the dogs who think they can make the rules. "Okay, look," he says, finally, reluctant. "I know a guy who's got ties to that world."
(no subject)
Date: 2014-01-22 02:35 am (UTC)"Forget it." It was flat and fast, but there was nothing in Chin's face that mad Steve think it was easy or decided. Reluctance and inability, sidelined longing, and something a little too desperately wary. "He's a former confidential informant. He trusts no one." Chin shifted, only a little, looking at both of them. "Especially haole's."
"You talk to him," Steve threw it out, letting the always half expected, side-ways blanket, bigotry fly right over his head, like what it was. Nothing. Nothing that could ever touch him. His focused directly on the next route that it could be, if it couldn't be there, or them. Especially if he had the name, and it wasn't up for discussion their getting it, but someone had to.
"I'm busy," Chin snapped back too fast.
(no subject)
Date: 2014-01-22 02:40 am (UTC)"You're busy?"
That haole crack rolls right off Steve, but it lodges and festers in Danny's chest along with all the other times that word has been slung at him. "What, you expecting a crime wave in the gift shop this afternoon?"
He gestures to the room, the emptiness of it, the quiet mid-afternoon lull that he guesses is probably a lot like the mid-morning lull, or the all-freaking-day lull.
Kelly sits back, reconsiders his position, tries another tactic. When he leans forward again, his voice is quiet, but firm. "Look, I can't be a cop anymore."
(no subject)
Date: 2014-01-22 02:48 am (UTC)"Because I can't be," Chin through back, with the kind of logic fit for children and things too sore for being talked about in any kind of logical calm. All of which had drained from Chin's face in a mix of anger than looked a whole lot more like bitter pain to Steve. "You understand?!"
He leaned in, voice going tight and vicious, though not aimed at them. "HPD accused me of taking payoffs, so I'm the last person the department wants to see wearing a badge." The hands came off the table, as the chair slid back scraping the floor, and Chin threw down his last words, as he was reworking the tie on his low slung apron. "I gotta go."
(no subject)
Date: 2014-01-22 02:55 am (UTC)It's mostly to himself, though, quiet, because he gets it. Okay? He does. He knows exactly what it must be like to be forced out of the force, accused. Whether Kelly did it or not isn't the point. When the people who are supposed to have your back against everything and anything accuse you of betraying their trust and the trust of everyone you protect, it's gotta hurt.
He remembers Peterson, the denials, the bargaining, the attempts to coax Danny onto his side. There's none of any of that, here: just a man who desperately wants a chance to do exactly the thing he can't do anymore.
So, yeah. Really well.
(no subject)
Date: 2014-01-22 03:11 am (UTC)Which really only makes one thing important, if this is the very last second of a chance he has, and he lets it fall.
"Did you take the money?"
He can hear the way Chin's voice went iced with surprise, like he just stomped on a grave without hesitating. And he did. It's part of why he holds. Fingers laced a long second, to not look too desperate. As desperate as he really is. As everything crawling up his spine is. It's a decided turn, starting the question, without even looking at Chin yet.
"Did you--" He pressed on the word as his eyes slide to Chin's face suddenly. "-take the money."
Chin took a step back, face gone to a shattered spot beyond certain, and voice rough, headed toward cracking, when he said, "No."
Steve shoved out of his chair, leaning on it, the impulse that said this was right. "Then come with us." That nothing about anything Chin had said or done since this morning had given him a second of doubt. "And we don't need to talk about this again." Not today. Not at any point that he'd met and interacted with Chin when he was younger either. "Ever." He wouldn't drag it out to trip Chin up. He wouldn't let Danny.
The fact Chin stood, eyes shining, squinting at him, trying to make sense of Steve or what Steve was saying, made him push right on, too, even as he kept his voice steady. "This is your ticket back into the game. Call it payback. Call it whatever you want. I don't care. But I need you." And he did, and he wouldn't lie about that. Not when the man looked like this, had been raked over so completely already, and the offer had come out of realizing what a resource he could be.
"How do you know you can trust me?"
Because he had to, and, when it came down to it -- "Because my old man did."
Because, even Chin said earlier this morning, his dad had always stuck by him. Even after HPD's decision.
His dad was a lot of things, but generous beyond reason was nowhere in the list where it came to family or coworkers.
(no subject)
Date: 2014-01-23 12:55 am (UTC)He wonders if Steve actually, truly, in his heart, believes that if he says something with enough conviction, other people will start believing it, too. He wonders if Steve honestly thinks he can make things happen, just by wanting them hard enough.
The thing is, he's not sure he can come up with any solid proof that it isn't working.
He's only known the guy for a few hours, but this is the second time he's seen him railroad someone into working with him; pinpointing their motivation and skewering them with it. It worked on Danny, and it's working on Chin Ho Kelly.
Who does, actually, have a choice that Danny didn't have, but who is standing there, struck, staring at Steve, and Danny can't say he can blame the guy, right? Like, is he for real?
Just dropping the stigma of an inquiry into Chin's character and morals and job performance. Saying it doesn't matter, when Danny knows it's the reason the man left his fifteen-year, stellar career, is the thing behind the hunger and the calm desperation in his face, the bitterness in his laughter. Standing there, straight-shouldered and easy, the solution to everyone's problems. Snapping his fingers and just making it happen.
Making the world shift.
He wonder if that's a usual thing around Steve McGarrett, the complete uprooting of reality. Steve striding in and changing the whole game, lifting the players, breaking all the rules. He should hate it. It should unsettle the hell out of him.
So how come he's finding himself starting to feel some begrudging respect?
It's not like any of this is going to stay, is it? Maybe Steve said he'd transfer to the Reserves and take on this...what, task force, but once they've got Hesse, he'll go back and so will Danny and Chin, right? How far does this ticket actually take them? It's not actually enough to hope for anything, is it? Just because Steve says so, just because Steve is calling it a way back into the game, that doesn't make it one.
Right?
Chin seems wary, too, but unlike Danny, he seems to know when a fight's been lost, and breaks eye contact first, shaking his head in something like wry disbelief. "Okay," he says, after a second. "I'll talk to him for you. But I warn you: the man knows how to bargain, and information won't come cheap."
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