Our Devoured Minds Part 2/8 (Hawaii 5-0)
Our Devoured Minds Part 2/8
Author: Tari_Roo
Rating: PG (Gen)
Disclaimer: I own nothing, I profit from nothing. Although if I had my way Steve would be bare-chested even more than he is, we would actually ‘see’ Danny trying to surf and Kono would be a secret Cylon. That is all. Wait… Chin would be as awesome as he is.
Summary: Everyone says it’s the not knowing, right? Danny disappears and someone tries to kidnap Grace. Cue 5-0 and serious ass-kicking as Steve & Co try to keep Grace safe and find Danny.
Spoilers: None, but you kinda have to know the show, ok?
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Steve slammed the door to the Interrogation Room shut, half turned and stared at the smooth polished metal surface, his twisted warped reflection staring back at him. His heart was racing so damn fast it felt like he was in the middle of fast paced ten mile run, skin cold, fingers trembling.
‘Shit, shit, shit.’
The metal was cool and slick on his forehead as Steve leant forward and cursed again.
“Shit!”
Pain flared as flesh and bone met unyielding metal, but Steve didn’t stop the second punch or the third, slamming his fist into the door - hard. Stopping before he did any real damage, Steve pressed his hand to his mouth, rubbing the skin and bristle, trying to push the surge of emotions away.
‘Shit.’
Shoving off the door, ignoring the pull of the wound in his leg and unable to contain the roar of anger and fear, Steve stalked down the narrow corridor from interrogation, head down, fists clenched.
He stopped abruptly after barely two steps, heart rate sky rocketing when he spotted Grace. She was pressed against the glass door leading back into the common area, staring at him, worrying her bottom lip, eyes huge.
Steve struggled to find the courage to smile, but he did, and managed a weak, bright, sad grin. Slowing his pace, hands open, shoulders relaxed, he gently opened the glass door and smiled, “Hey.”
“Hey.” Man, she had eyes the size of flying saucers. Hair mussed and untidy, half dressed in pjs and an HPD breaker, Grace radiated need - desperate, desperate need and Steve really, really wanted to reach down and give her a hug. Whisper that everything, everyone, Danno, was going to be ok.
Swallowing hard, smile a little more rigid, Steve reached out his hand and Grace quietly took it, wrapping her small fingers through his. “Come on, let’s go check on Kono and Chin.”
It was a short walk into the main area, and Steve felt Grace’s eyes on his face the entire time, her fingers twisting in his, no longer cool but warm and slippery. They had to sidestep a couple of uniformed Officers, and then a fast moving Detective before they reached Kono and Chin at the computer.
Five-0 had been invaded by HPD personnel, all willing and able to assist in finding Danny. And as needed and urgent as that help was, it felt weird having so many people in ‘their’ space. Looking over their shoulders. Questioning. Offering advice. Interfering.
Grace squirmed a little and mumbled something about holding on too tight, and Steve shot her another fixed smile. “Sorry, kiddo. Kono, Chin. What do you have?”
Turning Kono blinked at Grace, gave her a belated smile, and shot Steve a ‘what the hell’ look. Chin barely looked up from the computer interface, sliding information across the screen, opening new data. Steve shrugged, and pulled Grace a little closer and said softly, “Grace, why don’t you go wait in Danny’s office - I know there are snickers bars in his desk drawer, somewhere.”
Grace shook her head, and pressed a little closer to Steve but didn’t quite wrap herself around his leg, but her grip on his fingers tightened. Dropping to his knees, Steve licked his lips and ignored the skip of his heart as Grace stared desperately at him. “Sweetie, please... just go sit in Danno’s office. We’re... we’re working hard to find him, ok?” A bustling female HPD Officer paused on her brisk walk past them, no doubt wondering if Steve needed help with Grace, but McGarrett shook his head imperceptibly and she got the hint. So did Grace.
She stared a little longer at Steve’s face, searching for something, or maybe looking for reassurance but she abruptly pulled her hand free and made her way to Danny’s office. McGarrett watched her go, a spike of guilt jabbing at his stomach, and slowly stood. Kono shot him a worried look, but her attention was on the incoming information, murmuring at Chin. Grace climbed up on to the couch near the doorway, and posted herself as sentinel, watching the bustle of activity, eyes most often returning to him.
“Boss? Steve?”
Swallowing, McGarrett pulled himself away from that lonely, sad, need and turned to Kono. He flexed his hand, the sense memory of little fingers seeking reassurance making his mouth dry and hollow. “Ok, talk to me.”
Chin and Kono were looking at him though, and Chin coughed, “How did the interrogation go?”
The spike of guilt burned into raw anger and Steve snarled, “He lawyered up. From the get go. Refused to talk point blank beyond ‘I want a lawyer’. And With HPD hovering and watching everything, I...”
Kono nodded, her mouth twisted in an unhappy frown. Chin sighed, “Well, at least the CSU team are playing ball. See.” He pointed at the row of mug shots on the computer screen - the four perps from Grace’s house. Three dead, one cooling his heels in interrogation, waiting for his lawyer. Kono tapped the screen and said, “Mani Olekane, former member of the Sami Boys. Pretty clean rap sheet considering he’s been a free agent for years. Has definite links to a few arms dealers, but has kept his nose clean, nothing current.”
Steve glared at the mug shot. “Looks like a kid. I thought he was some wannabe out to prove himself.”
Chin shook his head, “Nah, just a baby faced killer. Smart one too, no real jail time, just lots of suspicious activity. The real interesting thing though is these guys.” Chin pulled the pictures of the dead perps closer and made them bigger. “Herr, Jurgens and Studer. French, Dutch and German respectively. Interpol sent over their files, and they’re pretty much guns for hire. Suspected in corporate kidnappings, no real associations with organized crime, but they are on a several watch lists. Homeland Security would have flagged them had they entered the States on their own passports.”
Steve dragged the pictures from Immigration, the three fake passports and visas used to enter the US. “Well, the fakes were good enough to fool IS. No links to any States based crime syndicates?”
Shaking his head, Chin sighed, “No. Which is why it’s interesting. As far as IS can tell, this is their first time in the States. They flew in on a flight from Tokyo and prior to that had been in Hong Kong.” Kono chirped in, “Worse, there is nothing linking those haole to Olekane. The SVU at Rachel’s place is a rental, booked online using one of the fake passports. And there are no hotel reservations on their aliases or real names.”
“What about the weapons? They couldn’t have brought those with them.” Steve growled, pulling up preliminary, really preliminary ballistic reports. CSU was pulling out all the stops to feed them information asap, but it still took time. Chin frowned, “Clean, all of them. But Olekane has ties to arms dealers, so he would be the likely supplier. But since we don’t even have a known residential address for him, let alone property in his name, we were relying on more intel from the interrogation.”
“So, we got nothing?” Steve snapped, pulling up the traffic camera shots from Danny’s neighborhood, even though he knew what they showed already. Nothing. No black SVU. No suspicious vehicles of any kind. There wasn’t a camera directly on Danny’s street, something Steve intended to remedy immediately, but the surrounding traffic light cameras had revealed nothing.
“Nope,” Kono smiled, even if it was a tiny, hopeful smile. “We got this.” She double tapped a folder and several grainy pictures appeared. “Staggered snap shots from the car rental desk. See... our dead perps picking up the car.” Kono’s finger danced across the screen, making the stills blink in stop motion movement. “Nothing unusual, until this.” She paused on a single frame. A half blurred piece of hope. The three haole hired guns were walking away from the rental desk and a man had stepped out of the shadows at the entrance, his hand reaching out to them. “We only get two more shots, but...”
Kono pulled those two shots up and the man was suddenly in front of the perps, taking something from them... maybe the keys, it was unclear. And then, the final still - all four of them leaving. The final shot was grainy and blurry, but all four faces were visible, if not clear. Four ‘caucasian’ faces. Steve nodded, sharp, “Not Olekane. Someone else. Did you run facial recognition?”
“We’re trying to,” Chin sighed, “but with the quality of the picture, I wouldn’t pin our hopes on that one. We are running all prints in the SVU though.”
Steve whirled and yelled, “Lieutenant Chou, put a rush on the prints from the SVU, yeah?”
From across the room, Chou nodded, talking on the phone. HPD were running a door to door search on all Sami Boy hold outs and locations. CSU was still on scene at Rachel and Stan’s home and Danny’s. They were always manning the hotline for intel on missing people and running with the various BOLOs. Steve sighed, and rubbed his hands across his face, suddenly exhausted, even though it was still morning, still Saturday, only hours into the day. Unable to stop himself, he glanced at Grace. She hadn’t moved, still draped over the couch, watching them all, biting her lip.
“You get hold of Rachel yet?”
The beat of silence from Chin and Kono twisted Steve’s stomach and as he turned back to them, Chin’s expression was torn with guilt and worry. Kono though, was visibly upset, her mouth open, and she said quietly, “It’s why... I…er. We can’t reach Rachel, Steve. Tried her cell dozens of times. And the hotel where the conference is supposed to be has no reservation for them... or a conference scheduled.”
The twist in his stomach sharpened into desperate fear and Steve knew his face reflected his shock. “What? How... did Grace get it wrong?” Unlikely, the kid was pretty good with information and her mother would be certain that her daughter knew how and where to reach her. “Did you try tracking Rachel’s cell?”
Chin nodded, “Just waiting on the warrant.”
Steve opened his mouth to protest, as usually Five-0 would have just gone ahead and done it. But with HPD not only close by, but accessing the same information, Chin was playing it safe. They all were - even though they couldn’t afford to. Danny’s running arguments about process, correct police procedure and warrants could be ignored when he was the sole voice demanding it. Steve growled, “Do it anyway, we don’t...”
“I did already,” Chin hissed, very deliberating not looking around at the collected HPD officers, “and it’s either off, or...”
Steve slammed his hand onto the computer screen, making it rattle a little, and exclaimed, “Damnit! So other than a blurry fourth suspect, we got nothing and worse news!”
“Fraid so, Boss,” Kono sighed. Chin though pushed on and said, “But we are checking all of Danny’s Jersey cases, and Five-0’s to see if there is a link, someone out on parole... anything.”
Steve nodded in agreement, but that was a lot of information and if Rachel and Stan were missing, maybe it had nothing to do with Danny at all. Or it had everything to do with Danny. “Get an APB out on Stan and Rachel. I’m going to go talk to Grace, just in case she did get the hotel wrong.”
Kono and Chin nodded, but all three of them turned to look at Grace. She was staring right back at them, a yawning chasm in need of comfort and reassurance. Steve pushed off the table, and walked over, feeling like he was heading into a fire fight.
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Danny had no idea if Chinese water torture was real, or just an urban legend. Steven probably did. McGarrett probably knew a scary amount of information about torture and interrogation - from both sides of the equation. SERE survival and cracking the tough nut - all contained in one handy mental suitcase courtesy of the Navy.
There was however something dripping, an irregular pitter patter, slow and annoying.
Old Hendricks, a long time Jersey CSU officer had once lectured Danny for two solid hours about the difference between gravitational blood drops and arterial spray, and everything in between. At the time, it had been pretty interesting as he had been a rookie beat cop, keen to learn. By the time murder case number twenty five had rolled around, Danny was his own expert on the blood trails injuries left.
The drip was slowing, petering off, the time between each drop irrational, inconsistent, irregular.
None of the cuts were too deep, too serious. Oh, they hurt like a son of bitch, each and every single damn one, but on their own... nothing really. Piece of cake. A walk in the park. Gravy and biscuits.
A chair scraped nearby, metal on concrete, sharp and piercing. Danny tensed, heart rate climbing, a fresh spurt of adrenalin and sweat surging through him.
“You ready to talk yet, Williams?”
Danny licked his lips, tasted salt and blood. “Go to Hell.”
The air moved, a shift in the space near him, heavy material on thin metal chair, hot breath on his face. “Your little girl tastes like peaches...”
“You touch... “ Danny gasped, and bit his lip as fresh blood welled, warm and sudden on his skin, the cold, smooth scrap of the straight razor at his throat silencing him.
“What did I say about mouthing off, Williams?”
Danny turned his head, ignoring the bite of the blade into his skin, and spat, hoping he hit the bastard, “I’m going to kill you.”
A breath of laughter, low and mean, and then burning agony as the SOB sliced into his shoulder, again. Danny tried not to scream, but it was damn hard when he had no idea where or when the bastard was going to cut him next.
Thick, rough fingers dug into the slice between his top ribs, reopening the wound and Danny bit off a string of curses, trying to pull away, yanking hard on the plastic ties on his wrists. The fingers moved though, pushing harder as he pulled away. The fierce burn of salt was swift and sharp, and Danny groaned a mumbled scream.
“What kind of father lets someone like me take their little girl?” The words were hot in his ear, even through the material of the blindfold, and the SOB’s fingers were still steadily shoving salt into the open wound. “I just want to know one tiny, ridiculous thing and now your daughter is going to suffer for your stubborn idiocy.”
“I don’t f...”
The blow knocked Danny’s head back, jaw aching, ears ringing, tasting more blood. Undeterred, Danny yelled, “I don’t know! I don’t frigging know! You leave Grace the hell alone, or I swear...”
The grip on his throat was tight, and strong, instantly strangling off the threat, his words lost in the haze of pain and growing lack of oxygen. “What did I say about that damn mouth!” Futilely, Danny kicked out, bare feet tied to the metal legs of the chair, his whole body jerking to be free, get air. Long, long seconds passed in a rising panic of need. Danny twisted, pulling on the restraints, bucking in the chair, but the iron fingers cutting off his air were unrelenting, unyielding. The burn of his lungs, desperate for air replaced the burn of salt and deep cuts, and Danny gargled a desperate plea.
Half of him knew the bastard would let go, eventually, but the sick SOB might let him pass out before he did. But half of Danny was screaming for air, desperate to live. Abruptly the iron collar cutting off vital oxygen vanished and Danny collapsed as far forward as plastic ties would allow. Sucking in great gulps of air, coughing and spluttering, head swimming with the rush of oxygenated blood, Danny tried to calm down, get back in control.
He barely heard the scrap of metal, as the SOB’s chair moved but he heard the hissed words, hard and demanding, “Where is Frank Marks, Williams?”
Heart still racing a mile of minute, chest heaving, drenched in adrenalin fuelled sweat, fresh blood trickling down his hands, Danny growled, “I don’t know, you stupid bastard. I. Don’t. Know!”
He expected a blow, another cut, more pain. Instead all he heard was the chair being knocked over and the sound of footsteps walking away from him. A door opened, and blessed fresh air wafted into the stuffy, hot room. The door slammed and the heat returned.
Danny sat perfectly still, pulling on his bleeding wrists, ears straining, heart pounding, a desperate plea on his lips. ‘Please... please...’
Silence hung over him, a heavy oppressive blanket, a building pressure of fearful expectation.
‘Please.’
The scream that echoed through the room, ripped through him, his skin crawling, heart plummeting, stomach rising with nausea.
“Grace!”
The chair barely moved, its welded legs firm, but Danny screamed as another desperate scream echoed through him. “Grace! NO!”
The last scream was quieter, terrified, desperate and Danny pulled so hard on the ties that for a moment he blacked out, heart pounding harder than it had when he was being choked. “No, no, no, no, no....”
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Steve slid onto the couch next to Grace as she moved to give him some space, twisting to stare at him. His ass had barely settled into the well-worn grooves when Grace burrowed into his side, arms wrapped around herself, skinny legs bent, feet tucked in close. Caught a little off guard, Steve lifted his arm, let her snuggle in closer, and gently hugged her with one arm.
For all of her smiles and lively chatter around Danny, Grace was a quiet, gentle soul. She only really opened up around them when Danny was there, and frankly that was usually the only way she did spend time with the team. She’d laugh at Steve’s jokes only when Danny did. Go and swim with Kono when her Danno nodded it was ok. On her own, she was bright, intelligent and charming, more than able to wrap a group of adults around her finger. Kamekona knew all about that. But usually only when she knew Danny was close, or had given his stamp of approval or reassurance.
“Hey, you doing ok?”
It was a ridiculously stupid question, but the only one that came to mind.
“Did you find Danno yet? Where’s mom?”
Ah. Steve hugged Grace a little tighter and raced to find the words he needed, the right ones, the ones that weren’t going to betray him. “Grace, honey. We’re trying to reach your Mom...”
“She goes to the spa, and they make her turn off her phone,” Grace whispered, not looking at Steve, thank goodness not looking at him. Staring down at the top of her head, noting the mix of natural highlights from the Hawaiian sun, the sheen of her hair, Steve said calmly, “We tried the hotel and ...”
And what, McGarrett? Steve paused, suddenly unable to voice the fear that crawled through him. Grace shuffled and turned her face up to stare at him. Chickening out, Steve sighed, “Which hotel are they staying at, Grace?”
She looked at him for a few seconds, long and hard before digging in her oversized windbreaker and pulling out her pink iPhone. She unlocked it and Steve caught a glimpse of a picture of her and Danny laughing on a beach before she opened the contact list. “Here, Uncle Steve. Today they’re at the Hyatt Regency in Lahaina.” She said the Hawaiian name spot on, better than Danny did at times.
“Did your Mom put the number in your phone?” Steve asked, pulling out his own. Grace nodded and watched him dial the Hyatt. As the call went through, Steve smiled warmly, desperately hoping that somehow... Kono and the HPD had got it wrong.
‘Aloha, welcome. Ka’anapali Beach Hotel welcomes you.’
Steve pulled away, preparing to get up and asked quickly, “Did you tell Kono which hotel or just give her the number?”
Grace shrugged, and said, “The number?”
For the first time that day, Steve’s smile felt genuine, as relief was born, hope blossoming. Maybe. The operator on the other end was patiently waiting for him, and Steve barked, “Do you have the number for the Hyatt Regency, ma’am?”
To her credit, she did and Steve thanked her profusely even as he hung up. Through the window, he waved Kono over, knowing that between Grace’s worry and traumatic morning, and her own, he couldn’t really blame her. The phone on the other end was ringing, as Kono hurried over and Steve felt his heart pick up as another polite, friendly operator answered, ‘Hyatt Regency Maui Resort and Spa. Aloha!’
“Rachel Edwards’ room, please?”
“One moment, sir.”
And in the joy of finding Rachel, the moment of small success, Steve got away with not answering Grace’s question, not having to reassure her that Danno was ok - was going to be ok. Kono was smiling too, a slightly confused look on her face.
‘Sir, she is currently enjoying a full day spa treatment and cannot be...’
“Call her out, now, ma’am. It’s an emergency.”
‘Yes, sir.’
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Continued in Part 3
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7