This is my take on how the season finale should have ended with a bit of an added nibble. I sure long for those spine-tingling, gut-wrenching, heart-pumping 'Who Shot J.R?" type of climatic cliffhangers that we used to have. They would leave us breathless and on edge until the fall. We don't have those anymore and it's a darned shame. Whenever I watch a season finale or premiere I usually go: "Oh? Is that all?" Same with previews. They are often misleading.

This is a short tag. If the interest is there I'll come back in June with my take on a would-be season premiere episode. And before anyone says: 'Oh he would have done this or he never would have done that', bear in mind that this is my AU and I will go out of my way not to make it a spoiler for the fall.

Disclaimer: I don't own H-50 nor am I affiliated with the show. I did borrow the exact dialogs in the end scene with Wo Fat and Steve to set my tag.

Here goes…

McGarrett marched down the corridor lined by heavily-armed guards to Wo Fat's high-security confinement space. He walked in and strode up to him with a brisk step.

"Thank you for coming, Commander," Wo Fat said.

"Don't flatter yourself," Steve replied on a somewhat sarcastic tone. "I was coming even if you hadn't asked."

"Yes." Wo Fat stepped up to the glass window separating the two men. "You want to know why your mother paid me a visit. I can answer that. But first you're going to do something for me."

"And what's that?" Steve asked with skepticism.

"You're going to get me out of here."

"Oh, is that so?" Steve mocked with a slight chuckle.

Then the sound of an explosion followed by machine gun echoed outside the steel door. "You set me up?"

"Yes, but not in the way you think. They're not here to break me out. They're here to kill me and you're the only one who can protect me from them."

"From who? Who are they?"

Steve's brows began to furrow deeply and an expression of doom washed over his face as he watched intently the steel door being welded open. His mind quickly registered the imminent threat but was stumped as to what swift plan to devise to avoid facing whatever regiment was on the other side. In a sidelong glance he could see Wo Fat cowardly stepping backwards with terror mirroring in his eyes. Even his archenemy was dreading the outcome.

There was nowhere to hide. He did a quick survey of the place to spot any blunt object that could be used as a weapon. When he found none, he decided to use his own with the misguided belief that he could overpower the enemy before it struck him.

He plastered his back against the wall by the door and with controlled breaths, he silently waited for the right instance to spring into action. When the melted metal piece was kicked inside and the barrel of the AK-47 came into view, Steve grabbed and yanked it, pulling the man inside along with it. Without a moment's notice, he lunged at him and both struggled for the weapon.

Steve got the upper hand and twitched the assault rifle out of the man's grasp. He stood and before he could thrust it at the enemy, another merc fired a round in his direction, instantly riddling him with bullets. Steve's body jerked from the impact of every single entry, but somehow he didn't feel pain; only a strange numbness that quickly travelled through his nerves.

"Shit! McGarrett!" the assailant cursed.

"Oh my God, Steve!" cried the gruff voice of the leader who swiftly dove to grab the limp body before it sagged to the concrete floor.

"Steve! Stay with me now," urged the authoritarian voice that he somehow recognized but that his muddled mind couldn't quite register. "Steve!" again only a muffled sound reached his ringing ears. His vision became blurred with a thin veil of unshed tears and was gradually tunneling. He wondered why he couldn't draw a single breath. He was drowning. He felt disembodied and disconnected with the space around him growing smaller and dimmer.

"Joe I'm sorry. I thought he was another guard and I…" offered the frantic plea. "What was he doing here?"

"I don't know. Get Wo Fat!" Joe ordered his men as he cradled Steve's crippled form in his arms.

The men shot at the glass to shatter it and grabbed the disfigured convict.

His eyes glazed over and he started drifting off, only to be jostled back to a world that he felt he no longer belonged to. "Stay with me, Steve. We'll get you fixed up."

The blank stare and blue-tinged lips were noticeable signs that the life was quickly ebbing away. Finally the head slumped to the side, prompting Joe to press two fingers against the neck to check for a pulse. "Dammit!"

Joe gingerly laid the dead weight on the floor and began chest compressions.

With hands bound behind his back, Wo Fat stood over Joe and smirked, "I told you one day you'd wind up killing him."

"Get him outta here! " Joe barked without lifting his sight off the body of his protege that moved limply with every compressions applied to his still chest.

"What about McGarrett?"

"I'll take care of him. You just get that bastard away before they sound the alert. I'll hitch a ride with Dave. Tell him to have the van ready."

"Joe, we're not supposed to be here. If they find out…"

"I know!" Joe snapped. "You just take Wo Fat to the hideout and I'll meet you there."

He bent down to insufflate a good amount of air into Steve's lungs and resumed the frantic compressions. "Come on! Come on! Breathe!"