3:00pm, Hawaii Time. 11:00am the following day, Tokyo Time.

Day 1

The flight was blissfully quiet. A Marvel movie of some kind was playing on the screen at the front of the cabin, and Steve recognized it as one that he'd seen before. He declined the headphones but kept his eyes on the flick in front of him, zoning out every so often. His mind was currently like a pendulum; on one side was his plan of attack, his strategy, how he was doing to deal with Wo Fat and get himself and Danny out of this mess alive. On the other side was just Danny; the photo of Danny half sitting, half laying on what looked like a cold, concrete floor in what had to be a very small room. The sound of Danny's voice begging – no, Danny would never beg – more like demanding, commanding Steve to not come after him reverberated in his mind, as did the dark promise Steve heard in Wo Fat's voice as the insinuation of harm to Danny would most definitely come to fruition if Steve didn't cooperate. He'd been through a torture session or two with Wo Fat; he knew better than anyone the damage the man could do.

And that was the rock that was sitting in the pit of Steve's very soul as he flew over the Pacific Ocean. Knowing that, at this very moment, Wo Fat was probably taking out any frustration or anger on, or just getting his jollies by, putting Danny through any number of interrogation techniques, and while Steve was sure – absolutely positive – that Danny could survive anything Wo Fat threw at him, he was also equally certain that the second Wo Fat decided that Danny was no longer a valued asset, that he would kill him. But, Steve reasoned to himself as he watched Hawkeye take out a squad of opponents on top of a roof, he knew that Wo Fat would at least keep Danny alive until he had Steve in his custody, not to mention that he was reasonably assured that if either Steve or Danny were to expire in the next two days, it would be Wo Fat pulling the trigger. One thing that Steve had learned about his nemesis – the man had no problem getting his own hands dirty, and lives were expendable once they were no longer needed.

He didn't know why he did it, but Steve pulled his phone out again, keyed in a few commands, and the photo of Danny appeared on his screen. For whatever reason, he found some odd kind of comfort in looking at it. Yes, there was fear in Danny's face, just a hint, but there was more anger than anything else, and Steve had never been more grateful for his Jersey partner's temper than he was in that moment. Anger was a driver for Danny; it had gotten him through more horrific situations than anything else. That righteous indignation, the pure, honorable fury that simmered just beneath the surface of the skin belonging to Daniel Williams was a weapon in and of itself. Steve needed to see that anger, needed to see that rage on his friend's face, so that he could have faith that once he got to where ever it was that he was going, that Danny would be alive, and strong, and as well as he could be under the circumstances. And if he wasn't, well, that would not bode well for Mr. Fat.

Idly, Steve's fingers drifted over the scar on his middle. It'd been almost a year since that day, when drug runners had flown alongside the little Cessna and littered the side of it with high caliber bullets, not to mention his own body. He'd almost died that day. He even remembered telling Danny as they were losing altitude that he was dying.

Of course, the stubborn being that was his partner had paid no attention to that. Steve remembered Danny ordering him not to die; it was almost as if Steve did not have Danny's permission to leave the plane of the living. It was the same tone of voice the detective had used when he'd commanded Steve to remain in Hawaii, and not come to Tokyo.

Ah, well. On following orders, one for two was a pretty good score for McGarrett. Steve looked at the phone again. In five hours, he'd be touching down in Japan. With any luck, he and Danny would be back in Hawaii before this time the next day, Wo Fat would be dead, and neither Steve, nor anyone else in his life, would ever have to worry about the man who had ruined so much for so many people ever again.

Hawaii Five-O - 3:30pm Hawaii Time. 11:00am the following day, Tokyo Time.

Day 1

"Mom?" Grace let the door shut behind her as she dropped her back pack off on the first available chair. "Hey, Mom – do you know why there's a car sitting outside?" She headed into the kitchen, still receiving no answer from Rachel, and made her way towards the fridge digging her phone out of her back pocket and hitting the text function. 'Hey Mom – I'm home. Where are you?'

After grabbing a soda, she wandered into the living room and gently brushed aside a curtain, taking a peek at the road. The car, which looked suspiciously like an unmarked police unit, was still sitting out front, and Grace frowned. Her father hadn't said anything about any kind of threats or extra precautions that needed to be taken. She thought about texting her mother again, but since she hadn't yet received a response, she decided to try her father's phone. She listened as it rang, and rang, and rang some more, and finally, the voice mail picked up. "Hi Danno; I think there's an unmarked car sitting outside my house. They didn't really say anything to me when I got home, they just sat there. I guess I just want to make sure everything's okay." She bit her lip, continuing to watch the outdoors. "Love you, Danno." She hung up, stole a glance at the back pack that was still sitting on one of the chairs in the foyer, and took a sip of her soda.

As she'd gotten older, Grace had started to talk to her father about his work and what he did exactly in a little more depth and detail. Those conversations were not easy ones to have for either father or daughter, but they were necessary. One particular discussion had centered around gut instincts. Danny had told his daughter that if something felt wrong, it probably was, and that he'd solved an untold amount of cases simply by following his intuition and listening to his instincts instead of writing them off, especially when those instincts were telling him that something wasn't right.

Right about now, everything about her current setting told Grace that this was wrong; from the unmarked outside, to her mother not texting her back, to her father not picking up the phone, but perhaps most importantly to the fact that her dad hadn't mentioned anything about police protection, and neither had her mother. In the past, when her Danno had deemed protective custody necessary, the process and who from either Five-O or HPD she would be with was explained to her, by him, in as much detail as he could give her.

Making her decision, Grace grabbed her phone and dialed Steve's number. When he, too, didn't pick up, she felt her stomach contort in knots. Something was wrong, she knew it. Grace slid her finger on the screen of her phone and pressed Kono's number, exhaling loudly and looking outside the window when the woman picked up.

"Kono, it's Grace – I think something's wrong. There's a car sitting outside my house and it looks like an unmarked car, and my mom's not home, and I called Danno and Uncle Steve and neither of them picked up-"

"Okay, okay, okay, Grace, listen to me, I need you to slow down," Kono soothed on the other end of the line. She darted into Chin's line of sight and waved at him to come out into the common area of the office, which he did quickly, spotting her urgency. "Okay, tell me again, you said there's a strange car outside your house?"

"Yea, and it looks like an unmarked cop car, like the kind the police drive when they don't want to drive their squad cars?" Grace took a breath, trying to do what Kono had told her. "It just – it feels wrong, Auntie Kono. Dad didn't say anything about police sitting outside the house and Mom didn't either. Can-"

"Okay, Grace, I want you to stay inside, get away from the windows. Find the most interior room of your house that has a lock on it and go in there. Lock the door, and don't open it for anyone, okay? We're on the way. We'll call your mom en route, but you do not come out of that room until we get there and come in and get you."

"Okay," Grace swallowed, already running up the stairs, "it's a room upstairs. I'll put my phone on vibrate."

"Good. We're on the way, just sit tight and stay quiet, okay?"

Grace nodded as she stepped into the desired room and shut the door behind her, locking it thoroughly. It was perfect – her mother's master suite had a bathroom attached to it, which also had a locked door. She hurried in, taking care to duck so that her head wouldn't show above the window sill, and climbed into the bath tub, hunkering down and folding her arms around her legs. Once she'd taken a precious few seconds to breathe and center herself, she glanced down at her phone again and realized that her mother still hadn't texted her back. 'Mom – called Auntie Kono. There's a weird car sitting outside the house. Doesn't feel right. She and I think Uncle Chin are on the way. She chewed her lip before adding: Don't call me. I'll call when they're here.'

It was perhaps the longest eight minutes of her life, and Grace was just beginning to calm fully when she heard the very familiar bap bap bap of gunfire outside. Instinctively, her hands flew to the sides of her head and she scrunched down in the bathtub, squeezing her eyes shut. After what couldn't have been more than 30 seconds, the gunfire ceased. Grace remained how she was, taking short, shallow breaths, and she was so engrossed in what could be going on outside that she nearly dropped her phone when it vibrated against her hand. It was Kono.

'Coming in the house now.'

A loud bang (not a gunshot) came from downstairs, and Grace had never been happier to hear her name being called. She hoisted herself out of the bathtub, unlocked the door, and ran to the door of her mother's room, unlocking that too and calling downstairs. Within seconds, she saw Kono and Chin making their way up to her. Grace sagged against the door frame.

"Grace, are you alright?" Chin lowered his firearm and placed a comforting hand on the girl's shoulder as she nodded. She didn't have the stomach at the moment to ask exactly what went down outside, and she was grateful to see Kono come back from her sweep of the upstairs, reporting that everything was clear. "Were you able to get in touch with your mom?"

"No, and Danno hasn't called back either, and neither has Uncle Steve." She looked between the two Five-O officers. "Where's my dad? Is he okay? Is that why that car was out there?"

Chin pursed his lips together, giving Kono a look over the girl's head. "Let's try and find your mom first, okay? Then we can try and answer some of those questions." As they walked Grace downstairs, Kono took out her phone and dialed HPD. Chin leaned towards her and murmured quietly, "Joe White's the next call."

His cousin nodded.

Hawaii Five-O – 5:30pm Hawaii Time. 1:00pm the following day, Tokyo Time.

Day 1

Wo Fat had, for the most part, left Danny alone since the phone call was made to Steve. It was miraculous, really, considering the choice words and vivid descriptions of 'lacking manhood' Danny had hurled at the international criminal. But for a few 'wellness' visits, Danny had been sitting in the dark room, by himself, untouched and unbothered.

And then, a light came on. But it wasn't a light from a lamp or an over hanging bulb. This light was from the wall in front of him. When Danny's squinted eyes finally began to relax, he found that he was looking at a rather large television. So far, it showed an empty room, with a chair sitting in the middle, and Danny thought for a few seconds that it looked vaguely familiar, as if he'd been there before. It was when he saw someone being dragged into the view of the camera and made to sit in the chair that he understood what he was witnessing. He felt his heart skip a few beats and a sick, nauseous feeling settle deep within him as Steve's face came into view, and he realized suddenly what he was watching.

"Son of a bitch," he muttered angrily, trying to stand up, but not quite able to find his footing. Whether that was from his ribs, his head, or the sheer horror running through him he wasn't sure. As if the detective needed any confirmation as to what he was about to observe, a voice came over an intercom.

"I imagine it would be rather unfair for my brother to enjoy an inflight movie while you sit here unentertained."

It was a few minutes before the first blow was struck. Danny watched Steve's head crack off to the side, and that was when he discovered that the speaker system in the room he currently occupied was very good; also, very loud.

"It is my hope that my conversation with Commander McGarrett goes far better than the last one did. That should be your hope as well." The threat – no, the promise: Wo Fat didn't make threats – was very clear.

On the screen, Wo Fat stood with a bucket filled with water by his feet, and one of his assistants stood behind the Navy Seal, a towel dangling in her hand. Steve had spoken only once to Danny about what he'd gone through while in Wo Fat's custody. Danny knew he'd been beaten, tortured both mentally and physically, tased, waterboarded, interrogated for hours straight at a time, and Danny had been furious then – quietly furious, but furious none the less. Seeing it though, hearing Steve sputter and choke, fight just to breathe… it brought thoughts and feelings to the surface that Danny would have rather left buried.

The volume only seemed to increase as Danny continued to watch, his temper rising dangerously, yet unable to escape. But it was when the scene changed, and Danny could see on the television that Steve was now hanging from the ceiling in chains from when he'd been taken to North Korea, that his blood truly chilled. Wo Fat was standing in front of the SEAL, a long, black rod in his hand. The first time Steve's excruciating, pain filled scream came through the speakers, Danny shoved his arm into the wall behind him, and bowed his head.

Hawaii Five-O – 8:10pm Hawaii Time. 3:30pm the following day, Tokyo Time.

Day 1

Tokyo was the jewel of Japan. It was one of the most technologically and architecturally advanced cities in the world, a beacon of art, culture, and sophistication. Any other time, Steve would have enjoyed his descent and looked out over the skyline from his seat, but not this time. As much as he enjoyed flying (and piloting, when he had the opportunity), it was all he could do not to ask one of the flight attendants if there was, by chance, a parachute on board so that he could disembark as soon as possible.

In reality, it was only ten minutes longer, but to Steve it felt like a life time. As he stepped off the boarding bridge and into the gate area, sharp, hazel eyes scanned the large interior. He saw what anyone would have seen – passengers coming and going, kids running around, parents running after them, people at the ticket counters – it was a completely normal scene.

And yet.

As Steve passed through security and into the public area of Haneda Airport, he spotted two men wearing dark clothing. One of them held a name sign; Steve's lips quirked just slightly as he approached.

"I'm McGarrett," he muttered, looking at both men closely. One of them nodded, smartly turned, and began heading towards the exit. The other simply looked at Steve and motioned for him to follow, which the latter did. It wasn't long before they were in a car, and of course a black, cloth bag had been thrown over McGarrett's head. Even though he couldn't see where they were going, he estimated that they had to have been in the car for at least an hour, probably longer. 10 hours, Steve thought to himself. 10 hours until Chin and Kono call Joe.

It wasn't long after that thought that Steve felt the car come to a stop. He waited, patiently, as he heard two car doors open and close, and then his own passenger side door open. A hand grabbed his shoulder, and he was hauled out. Almost immediately, hands were against him, searching, and he felt his cell phone pulled from its pocket. Another expenditure for a phone… Governor's gonna love that, Steve thought to himself as he was pushed forward roughly. Walking along, he heard more doors being opened, but these were the doors to a building, not a car; it seemed he'd reached his destination. Steve stayed alert, hoping to hear Danny yelling at the top of his lungs, a sure sign that he was alive and well, but so far, he heard nothing.

Another door opened, and Steve was pushed over the threshold and shoved forward. The door slammed, and Steve lifted his hands to pull the bag from his head. He was in a medium sized room, not white like the last one had been, and hopefully without the massive movie screen that his last accommodations from Wo Fat had included. The room was lit, but bare furnishing wise – probably a smart move on his host's part; Steve had an interesting knack for turning anything into a weapon. As if he needed another pleasant surprise, it appeared that said host wasn't going to keep him waiting long.

Wo Fat was as confident and in control as ever, and not for the first time, Steve found himself sincerely longing to wipe the smug look off the man's face. He regarded his captor quietly, eyeing him up and down, silently noticing all the little places he'd remembered Wo Fat storing various weapons before. It was a standoff of sorts, two alpha males circling, waiting for the other to make the first move.

Steve bit.

"I'm here. Where is he?"

"Mr. Williams is currently enjoying the movie I've provided for him in his room."

Steve's eyes narrowed only just. "Well I'm here now. You can let him go, and we can 'continue our conversation' – or however you put it so politely earlier." He wasn't surprised when the other man gave a subtle smirk and shook his head. "I'm surprised, Commander. As a former Navy SEAL, you should understand something about leverage. I have a great deal of it, not only in Mr. Williams, but in others who aren't even here."

"We have a great deal to discuss," Wo Fat continued. "The location of our mother-"

"She's not your mother."

"-and the location of my father."

Steve remained silent.

"Yes, I know he's alive now. It pays to have eyes and ears all over the world, in different governmental and non-governmental organizations." Wo Fat took a step forward, folding his hands behind his back and regarding Steve quietly. "Tell me where they are, and you and Mr. Williams will be on the next flight back to Honolulu."

"If you're so sure your father is alive, what do you need Doris for? Why don't you just go find him?"

"There is the little matter of Doris McGarrett killing my mother." Wo Fat eyed Steve carefully. "And you are now done stalling. Where are they?"

"Look," Steve's hand brushed across his mouth while his other settled on his hip. "I don't know where your father is, okay? And I don't know where my mother is. I haven't heard from her in months, and truthfully, I don't count on hearing from her anytime soon."

The silence grew, and a gulf of tension bred between them until Wo Fat broke it.

"I would choose your next steps very carefully, Commander McGarrett. I don't believe you, and in our prior dealings that would have been a problem for you, and you alone, but it is now a problem for Mr. Williams. It is up to you to decide just how big a problem for him it will be."

Steve watched as Wo Fat pulled away back towards the door, his glare promising murder. It didn't lessen when the fugitive glanced over his shoulder. "You can begin pondering the answer to that question now." And he was gone, leaving Steve to stand in the middle of the room.

He wasn't bored for long. About 15 minutes after he was left alone, Steve noticed an odd movement out of the corner of his eye, and as he turned towards the back of the room, he noticed that the wall was slowly but surely becoming transparent. He inched forward a few paces as he began to make out something in the adjoining room.

"Danny!"

His partner was hanging from the ceiling, hands shackled over head by metal cuffs. Danny's toes were barely scraping against the floor, the upper half of his body was bare, and dammit if Steve didn't pray to God that the man couldn't see him from the other side. But, as the saying went, humans made plans and had hopes, and God laughed.

"Steve, hi. Hi, nice of you stop by." Danny's tone belied his face, and Steve couldn't help the barely there quirk of the corner of his mouth. Danny was unharmed at least, but the way things were progressing, it didn't look as if that status was going to be sticking around for long, and that was when Steve knew he would have a very serious issue on his hands.

"Thought I told you not to come," Danny was saying, and Steve shifted back into the conversation, walking up to his side of the wall and placing a hand against it. "Yea, well, that never works out, buddy. Look, hang in there, alright?"

Silence, and then Danny looked up at him with an indignant expression.

"Did you really just- "

"You're gonna do this now?"

"-tell me to hang in there?!"

"You're gonna criticize my way of trying to encourage you, huh? Give you some faith, some hope, that's what you're gonna do, right now, in this moment?" It was the light-hearted bickering that had always managed to soothe the both of them somehow, but Steve knew what Danny was about to endure, and the brief back and forth only succeeded in centering them for a few seconds before both men went quiet. Steve watched as Danny tried to pull his hands from the cuffs. The effort was valiant, but futile.

"Okay, Steve, I uh… I need you to do something for me."

"Anything."

"If this goes... you know, the wrong way, I need you to take care of Grace and Charlie."

Steve shook his head at the detective. "I'm going to get you out of here, Danny. We're both gonna be on a plane home soon. You're gonna see Grace and Charlie real soon."

"Steve, dammit, just – none of your sunny Hawaiian optimism right now, okay? I was in the room when Wo Fat called you, I know why he brought me here, I kn-I know what I'm in for." Danny's eyes bore into Steve's as he spoke. "You don't play his game, Steve; you hear me? You don't play it. Anything he wants to know, you tell him to go fuck himself."

"Danno-"

"Steven."

Steve blinked first. He hoped that wouldn't become a pattern through out their stay. As a SEAL, he'd been trained to endure pain - mental, physical, and emotional. Compartmentalize, breathe through the agony, block out threats, words, statements – any act directly given to his person that could compromise him. Unfortunately, so far as he knew, no military on Earth had mastered the art of how to hold it together while a person's best friend, partner, and possibly something more was being subjected to 'enhanced interrogation techniques' or whatever the politically correct term was that was being used these days.

The wait was both agonizing and welcome for both men. Danny wasn't able to do much except hang in the air, prone, and Steve was pacing his cage like a wild animal, for which Danny was very grateful; a pacing SEAL was a thinking SEAL after all.

They both froze when they heard the door to Danny's room open. Steve spared one last glance Danny's way, hoping that his face conveyed more assuredness than fear, but he wouldn't swear that it did in court. However, Danny's face was the very picture of defiance, and Steve felt a kind of pride watching his partner stare down Wo Fat. The man carried nothing with him, and Steve knew that meant he was going to start off slow. Slow, in this case, meant a physical beating. Wo Fat would upgrade when he felt the need; Steve knew that from experience.

Neither of the Five-O officers said anything to their captor, not when he looked at them each directly, and not when he circled Danny like a predator stalking his prey. Steve did, however, pin the criminal with a warning look. Of course, it had no effect. Wo Fat was in control, he knew it, and the rhetorical question he put to his guests only served to prove it.

"Shall we begin?"