No Damsel In Distress

By

Kahva

Disclaimer: I don't own anybody or anything with The Streets of San Francisco. I'll only lay claim to my own craziness and a love of good TV.

Author's Note: This was written for a Monday "maim challenge" on the SOSF Yahoo group. The first four paragraphs were the starting point given for the challenge. Many thanks to everyone on the group for all of their encouragement, I'm having a blast over there. A special thanks to Tanith2011 for helping me find a title for this fic – it was being rather stubborn about being named! This fic takes place between the end of the fifth season and another SOSF fic of mine, "Merry Christmas, Mr. Robbins", which that one takes place during Christmas 1977.

While the young Inspector didn't see the blow coming, every muscle in his body was already taut and he sensed what was surely to come. The impact would have doubled him over had Di Angelo's heavy not been holding him upright with a restraining forearm pressed against his throat.

"You tell Stone to drop the case or the next time I catch one of his watch dogs tailing me, I'll be sending him back piece by piece," Marco Di Angelo threatened in a low but menacing voice as he leaned in closer to the detective, waiting for a response.

Still winded from the earlier blow, the young cop remained silent, though he realized that was a mistake. A second hard blow caught him below his rib cage. A grunt of pain was forced from his vocal chords and he was left gasping for air.

"You hear me, cop? You give Stone my message." Di Angelo jerked his head and his two musclemen allowed the detective to drop to the ground. With a sneer, he let loose a brutal kick to his hapless victim's ribs then walked back to his car with his two heavies close by.

Right, like Mike is going to drop the case now, Dan thought as he struggled to sit upright, listening to the crunch of tires on gravel as Di Angelo's car drove away. It wasn't easy to move after the beating he'd just taken, and it was all the more difficult since his hands were still secured behind his back with his own cuffs, his blindfold keeping him from seeing what was around him. He'd been dropped on dirt and gravel – a side road or dirt path somewhere outside of the city, he guessed. He couldn't hear any of the usual city noises, nothing that would help him determine where he had been taken. The young Inspector had no idea how much time had passed since he'd been captured by the crooks he'd been tailing most of the morning, or if it even was still morning. He had just stepped out of a phone booth after having checked in as scheduled when someone had slugged him from behind, then in short order had blindfolded, gagged, and cuffed him, then had shoved him into the trunk of a car. The ride had been cramped and rough as Dan was jostled every time the driver either sped up or stopped abruptly. He was certain that had been very much on purpose, to soften him up before Di Angelo was ready to "talk" to him. Once they had eventually arrived at wherever he was right now, his gag had been tugged out of his mouth to hang around his neck, but the blindfold and cuffs had remained in place for the duration of his unpleasant "conversation" with Di Angelo.

Dan finally managed to sit up, but couldn't feel anything around him, not a tree or a car or anything else, which made him wonder if he had been left in the middle of a road, or had indeed been dumped on a forgotten path somewhere. "Going to be a little tough to deliver a message when I'm in the middle of nowhere," he muttered under his breath, trying not to think about how much his chest and stomach were screaming at him, or that he likely had badly bruised, if not cracked ribs from the beating. His head was still spinning from where Di Angelo's men had hit him from behind, and Dan had passed out a few times in the car trunk, so he was pretty sure a trip to the hospital would end up with at least an overnight stay for observation for a possible concussion. He thought he could remember hearing the trunk lid open a few times, maybe even being taken out of the trunk a time or two, but the blow to his head was making it hard to remember what had happened.

Dan tried to maneuver his arms, twist his body so that he could reach the left front pocket of his jeans where the keys to his handcuffs were, but his arms had been tightly bound to his body and there wasn't any slack in the ropes at all. His struggles were only making it harder to breathe, so he stopped and sat still, taking slow breaths to ride out the pain. He wondered for a moment why Di Angelo hadn't gagged him again after the beating. Probably figures there's nobody around for me to call to for help anyway, Dan reasoned. Or one of his thugs could be nearby watching me, waiting to see if I'll panic. Di Angelo would like that, a scared cop.

Whatever the reason, Dan wasn't about to give any possible watchers the satisfaction of hearing him call for help, not at this point at least. Moving carefully, Dan managed to get to his knees, stopping to rest a few moments as his body again protested the movement. He wasn't sure how long it took him, but after losing his balance a few times Dan finally managed to stagger to his feet, nearly falling over again as not being able to see anything severely hampered his sense of balance. "Okay," the Inspector muttered to himself. "Now which way do I start walking?" Dan stood still, gradually getting used to being sightless, and listened for any hints of where to go. Even with as many times as he had fallen while trying to get to his feet, he figured he was still facing in roughly the same direction as when Di Angelo's men had dropped him. The sound of Di Angelo's car had come from his left, so Dan carefully turned, then taking small, careful steps, he began a long, slow walk to what he hoped would be an eventual rescue. Mike will probably find me walking here and fuss at me for not staying put, Dan thought, allowing himself a small smile. Or Di Angelo probably thinks I'm too hurt or scared to try and move anywhere, which is why my legs weren't tied. Big mistake there, Marco, I'm a bit tougher than that. Sorry guys, I'm no damsel in distress, it's going to take more than this to keep me down.

A stumble that nearly brought him down made Dan stop and rethink his predicament slightly. "Well, okay," the young man muttered. "Maybe I'm not a damsel in distress, but I wouldn't turn down a little help right about now."

The dark-haired Inspector had no idea how long he'd been walking and he had lost count of how many times he had stumbled and nearly fallen down after the thirteenth time, when he thought he heard the sound of a radio. Stopping, Dan strained to find the direction of the sound, hoping he wasn't imagining things. Just when he thought he had imagined it, he heard the sound again coming from straight ahead of him, and it sounded like Mike's voice! Dan started in the direction of the sound, picking up his pace as much as he dared as Mike's voice got louder. "Inspector Eight-one, do you read me? Dan, are you there? Answer me, Daniel!" came Mike's strident, worried tone.

Dan's knees finally hit a solid metal surface and he fell over, his chest hitting metal with a heavy thud. "My car!" he exclaimed, no longer caring if Di Angelo had indeed left someone behind to watch him. He straightened up and felt his way along the front of the car to the side, then to the front passenger door. "Please be unlocked," he murmured as he felt for the door handle. His prayer was answered as the door opened easily, almost too easily as Dan nearly lost his balance on the shoulder of the gravel road. Carefully he backed himself into the passenger seat, then felt around behind him for the radio's mic. After what felt like an eternity, Dan finally managed to get the mic in his hands and pressed the button to be able to talk, hoping fervently that Di Angelo hadn't messed with the radio. "Inspector Eight-one," he said, breathless and a bit hoarse, hurting more than ever now. "Mike, can you hear me?"

Dan thought that maybe his radio had been damaged when there wasn't an answer and hit his head against the seat in frustration. "Dan!" came Mike's voice at last. "Where are you?"

"I have no idea," Dan groaned in relief, biting his lip as a wave of pain threatened to overwhelm him. He was shaking a little now from his ordeal, which really made him wonder just how long he'd been Di Angelo's captive. "Mike, I'm cuffed and blindfolded, my arms are tied too, and I have no idea where it is Di Angelo has dumped me and my car. I wasn't left with my car, it's luck that I managed to find my way back to it. All I know is I'm on a dirt and gravel road somewhere, and I can't hear any traffic or other noises besides birds and insects. And you now on the radio, so wherever I am I still have to be in range."

"Hang in there Daniel, Di Angelo sent a message a couple of hours ago with clues on where to find you, we're on our way. And I wouldn't call it luck that you found your car, that's pure skill, partner."

Dan smiled at the note of pride he heard in Mike's voice. "I learned from the best," he said, before moaning and curling up as much as he could as the worst pain yet hit him.

"Dan? Dan!"

The Inspector gasped, trying to get his breath back, gritting his teeth against the pain in his chest and stomach. "I'm still here," he groaned, his voice getting more hoarse as the pain increased. "Di Angelo beat me up while I was cuffed, his men held me so I couldn't defend myself or dodge his punches." Dan fought back another moan as the pain didn't show any signs of subsiding any time soon. He wondered if walking back to the car had been such a good idea after all, or if he had only made his condition worse. "He said to tell you that the next time he caught one of your watch-dogs trailing him, he'd send him back to you – piece by piece. He wants you to drop the case."

Dan smiled at the snort he heard on the other end. "Like hell!" Mike growled. "He doesn't know either one of us very well, does he?" There was a pause, then, "If Di Angelo's clues are right, then we've found the area where you are – that development that went under a couple of years ago when the investors pulled out, the one that the Sanderson firm was doing, remember? Shops, offices, homes, the works?"

"Yeah, I remember," Dan replied. "They grossly underestimated the costs of developing the area and the investors got scared before anything was really done other than to cut a few rough roads through the property. That would explain why I'm still in range but can't hear any city sounds." Dan sighed as the latest wave of pain finally started to ease off a bit. "Mike, I have no idea if Di Angelo is still in the area or not. If he is, he's not made a move."

"Morton spotted him about an hour ago with two of his men, Jensen and Hurst."

"Yeah, that's who was with him when he got me," Dan said with a pained sigh. "I think Jensen was the one who had his arm around my throat when Di Angelo was giving me his message for you, he's the bigger of the two. Hurst is the quiet one, he may have been the one who slugged me from behind after I checked in, but that's only a guess." Dan rested his head on the seat, his head was throbbing and it was getting harder to hang on to the mic behind his back, tougher still to talk as his throat started to feel a bit raw. "You'll be here soon?" Dan asked, hoping Mike could still hear him.

"Don't you worry, I'll be there, just stay with me a little while longer Daniel."

"I'll try," the young man moaned before he lost consciousness.

SOSF SOSF SOSF SOSF SOSF SOSF SOSF

"Dan? Dan? Come on, wake up for me."

Dan thought he heard Mike's voice from a distance and fought his way through the mental fog to try and answer his partner. "M-Mike?" he finally managed, his own voice sounding harsh to his ears. He felt himself being lifted, more than one set of hands on his body so there was somebody with Mike, then he was carried from his car for a few moments and gently put on the ground, somebody's body behind his back to keep him upright. One set of hands quickly removed his blindfold and the rag around his neck that had been his gag, then cut away the ropes that bound his arms to his body. Another set of hands unlocked the cuffs from his aching wrists. "Thanks," he whispered painfully as he opened his eyes and immediately wished he hadn't as bright sunlight hit him full on, prompting a moan he couldn't hold back as he ducked his head to avoid the painful brightness.

"You just take it easy," came Mike's voice from behind him. "We've got an ambulance on the way, just take it easy."

Dan felt something being draped over him and carefully opened his eyes again. Bill Tanner was putting Mike's trenchcoat over him, and standing so as to block the sun to give Dan's eyes time to adjust. "Never thought I'd be so glad to see you guys," Dan mumbled, struggling to stay conscious.

"Just listen to Mike and take it easy," Bill advised. "It's over now." Bill turned and looked down the rough road past Dan's car. "Di Angelo's clues said we would find you two miles from your car, near the end of this road. How in the world did you manage to get from there to here?"

"Two miles?" Dan said, wincing as trying to talk louder only made his throat hurt more. "No wonder it felt like forever."

Mike shook his head and chuckled. "Di Angelo didn't know he'd kidnapped an outdoorsman when he grabbed you," he stated, a note of pride masking his concern over his partner's condition. "If he really wanted to strand you, he should have left you in the middle of the city."

"Don't give him any ideas, please!" Dan chuckled, then coughed. "Mike, I don't know how he could've spotted me, Bill and I have been tailing him all week, he's not spotted either of us before, and we didn't do anything different when I took over for Bill this morning."

"Yesterday morning," Mike corrected. "You've been missing for almost twenty-eight hours now, Daniel."

"We've got a leak," Bill stated grimly. "Somebody tipped him off to the cars we were using yesterday. One of Haseejian's informants called last night, they heard Di Angelo bragging about how he had "Stone's pretty partner", that you were stuffed in the trunk of your own car and he had been driving around with you in there all day long, and that Mike would get instructions on where to find you when he felt like getting rid of you."

"He thinks I'm pretty, huh?" Dan grunted, then chuckled. "Hate to disappoint him, but he's not my type."

Mike smiled, trying not to let his relief show that his partner was still able to joke around in spite of how much he was hurting. "Carol, that pretty little brunette airline stewardess you've been seeing the last couple of weeks, she's more your speed, right?"

"Caroline," Dan corrected with a smile. "Pretty sure it's safe to say she's a much better dancer than Di Angelo."

A siren cut through the air as the ambulance finally arrived on the scene. "No doubt, Marco doesn't seem to be the type to have any smooth moves on the dance floor," Mike chuckled. "You just relax and take it easy, you'll be at the hospital soon and they'll fix you right up. Just don't chase the nurses while you're there and you'll be fine."

"Yes sir," Dan murmured before losing consciousness again. He didn't wake up during the ride to the hospital in spite of Mike's attempts to rouse him in the ambulance, or in the emergency room. It wasn't until early in the evening before he woke up again, groggy this time from surgery to stop the internal bleeding from the beating he'd suffered.

"Di Angelo deliberately targeted Dan," the young Inspector could hear Bill saying. "Somebody in the garage told him that Dan would be in the blue LTD yesterday and that Dan is your partner, from what Haseejian's source was saying. Marco's trying to make this personal, Mike."

"It would be personal no matter who he targeted, Bill," Mike replied gruffly. "But yes, taking Dan like this…" Dan could hear Mike clear his throat. "Do we know who the leak is yet?"

"Looks like Ricky Williams, he's been working in the garage for about two months now, started shortly after the Hanson murder. Haseejian's working on tying the dates and times he was on duty with the failed raids on Di Angelo's businesses. Norm's getting some matches, so it looks like you were right, Marco's been getting tips all along, which has been helping him cover his tracks and why we haven't been able to tie him to the murder yet." There was a pause, then, "Two miles, cuffed and blindfolded, and after a beating like that... How did Dan do it, walk all the way back to his car? We found where he'd been dumped, Di Angelo had left an envelope with a picture of Dan in the trunk of the car. It was weighted down with a few rocks to keep any breeze from blowing it away. There was a message in it too, Mike. Said that the next time you saw Dan in the trunk of a car, he would be dead."

"Like the envelope with Dan's picture that was left on the LTD, saying he wasn't there, to keep looking, still had two miles to go?" Mike asked. "Marco wanted to lead us on a merry little chase this morning, didn't he? Pictures of Dan in different places in the city, bound, blindfolded and gagged," the Lieutenant growled. "He wants this personal? Well, he's got it. Di Angelo is going to pay for what he's done to Dan, and the Hanson murder, and everything else we can pin on him!"

Dan struggled to open his eyes. By the time he did, Bill had already left the hospital room, and Mike was standing by the window, looking out at the nighttime sky. "Didn't realize you cared so much," Dan whispered hoarsely, keeping his tone light. "Thanks," he said, before he needed to cough.

"Easy there, Speedy," Mike said, standing by his partner's bedside in a flash. "Here, take a few small sips, don't go too fast," he instructed as he held out a cup of water with a straw in it.

Dan nodded and took the cup gratefully, his mind clearing more with each passing minute. After drinking a small amount of the cool liquid, Dan handed the cup back to Mike and laid his head back down on the pillow, worn out by the simple act and still a little groggy from the surgery. "Don't suppose I'll get out of here in time to be in on Di Angelo's bust?"

"No," Mike smiled. "But I'm going to put the cuffs on him myself, and it's your cuffs I'll be using."

"Good," Dan replied tiredly. "Let him see how much he likes it." Dan sighed, then looked at his partner. "Sorry I worried you so much."

"Comes with the territory," Mike answered, patting Dan's shoulder gently. "Just don't make this a habit."

Dan chuckled a little, the drugs in his system making him sleepy. "I'll try not to, but you have to promise the same. Deal?"

"Deal," Mike promised with a smile as his partner drifted off into a deep, healing sleep. "Sleep well, Daniel."