Chapter 6
I'm Alice in freaking Wonderland...
Danny shook his head as soon as the thought formed, uninvited... Not the most manly analogy, Danno ...Christ, I'm losing it...But it really seemed as though he might be falling right through the world as he knew it, the world where he still had some control.
Was it only yesterday that he'd been telling Steve of his love of reading? He hadn't been lying.
When he was a little kid he'd enjoyed that book. He remembered evenings, squashed together with Matt and his elder sister, listening to his Mom's voice reading it aloud at bedtime. But now, like its heroine, he wondered where and when this fall would ever end.
Since his brother's pained face had appeared on that phone, the spiral had continued, like a bad trip.
A desperate trawl through all his previous research had served only to remind him of the improbability of finding wherever Matt might be held. There was nothing in the photo to suggest a location where he'd been or where he was and he had nothing to go on.
Since the evening when he'd stepped onto that plane, Danny hadn't heard from him. They'd always kept in regular touch before that, more so since Danny's divorce and Matt's self appointment as his counselor. The silence was a finality that fueled his actions.
In those first days, he'd traced the plane's flight plan to San Francisco. A two day trip to the mainland to review a jigsaw of traffic cameras had eventually shown the black sedan that had picked him up. It was registered to a hire company but the rental name proved false and with that, Matt was really gone.
Danny had returned, defeated, to Hawaii with no idea, then or since, whether Matt's new job for the cartel meant he'd been in South America, or whether that is where he was now being tortured. He had to tackle it differently.
Pedro Fuentez was not a resident in the islands, more of an occasional visitor, but Danny had the means to track his visits to preferred hotels and rented luxury pads. After his stop-off, at Big Island Flowers he began a tour of the likely haunts of his quarry...Why question the monkey if the organ grinder is around?
Offices, units, bars, everywhere he came up blank. Fuentez was nowhere to be found. However, on the burner phone he'd been left, Danny himself proved all too easy to contact.
Veering sharply off the road into a layby, he answered the expected call on its second ring.
"You got our package." A statement, but not from Fuentez or Kahumoku. One of their men. Not a voice he knew.
"What do you want?"
"Straight to the point. That's good," the voice rumbled. "It's not what. It's who."
"You want me?" Danny asked. His knuckles whitened as he gripped the phone hard. "Why didn't you say so? Just tell me where to come, 'cause believe me, I really want to meet you too...we've got a lot to talk about you and me, you sadistic son-of-a-bitch."
"Not you. But someone you can get for us." The voice remained level and emotionless.
Danny's mind was racing and his mouth went with it. "You think I'm gonna deliver you some other piece of meat to butcher?..I'm gonna hunt you d..."
"Your brother still has nine other fingers left, Detective. Either you listen to me now or we will send you another. Then another. Then another...Maybe a whole hand..."
Danny ground his jaws together to stop himself from launching into a verbal attack that would do no good. He needed to know the score.
"Are you ready to listen?" The voice demanded calmly and Danny felt another part of his world spin away as he was forced to do just that.
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Steve dashed from the Camaro to Kamekona's kiosk and was greeted by the Hawaiian's glum face peering out at the rain.
"Not the weather for shave ice, huh?" he sympathized.
"Nah, this rain is bad for business for sure," the big man agreed. "It's gonna wash away my days profits, man. Not good." He passed a careless wipe of a cloth over the counter between them, and looked up at Steve expectantly. "You come to put some dollars my way?"
"Just came to ask for your help...you seen Danny in the last couple of days?"
"Something's going on with the Haole, huh?" Kamekano's nodded reply was confirmation enough but he didn't need further encouragement to voice his own concerns.
"I knew that box was full of no good...He didn't say nothing but Jersey, he looked bad, man. Like sick, y'know..."
"What box?" Steve demanded.
"Some guy came by yesterday – told me to give Jersey a package. And a phone," the round face was creased with concentration and worry. "Blondie came over and, brah, I know he's a Haole and all, but I've never seen no white guy go so white as he did. Like my coconut ice, man. Didn't have to see what it was to see it was bad. I knew it." Kamekano drifted off in his thoughts over what he'd witnessed.
Steve slapped the counter to bring him back.
"And?"
"And nothing, man. He took off without saying a thing. Took off fast."
"Took off in what? What was he driving?" ...APB Danny? Really?...Steve hated the thought of tracking his partner but it was beginning to look as though he would have to resort to it.
Kamekona looked sheepish and his eyes darted away from Steve's.
"The hatchback."
"What hatchback?"
"Er...the hatchback I found for him," the big Hawaiian took a glance up at Steve's face and hurried on. "Couple of months back he asked me to find him a car to use. Said it had to be kinda ordinary, you know? So I loaned him my cousin's old car...She'd not using it on account of her eyes, man...she's got bad eyes and can't drive no more."
"What is it?"
"Doctor says it's glaucoma..."
Steve slapped the counter again in his frustration.
"Oh...er, the car...it's one of them Ford compacts ... Fiesta, I think...red."
"Where's he been keeping it?"
Kamekona never did anything very fast but right now Steve was straining to keep his patience, as his informant thought for a long moment.
"Think it's up at that shack," he said slowly. "You know, the one he's been using, off the inner road? Took it up there for him when he got into some trouble at a bar and couldn't pick it up last month. You know, when he got a little beat up?"
The black eye ...And, come to think of it, he'd been holding himself stiffly too...bruised ribs?
Steve reached up above Kamekano's head and grabbed the kiosk's roller shutter, slamming it down hard.
"Hey..."
"You're closing..." Steve leaned through the open door and grabbed the big man's arm. "Business is bust anyway. Come on, we're going for a ride."
The latest revelations built upon Steve's ever growing urge to find his partner and give him a slap. First though he had to make sure he was okay.
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"Danny...please..."
The sound of his brother's voice froze Danny in place. It was thin and high. He sounded so scared. It brought an instant flashback to their childhood when Danny had always been the first point of call for help against the neighborhood bullies...Hey! You got some sort of disability? Cos you seem to have grown a bike out your ass – and it ain't yours. Give it back...Hey! See this fist? Well, you're gonna get a real close-up look if you don't leave my brother alone... But that had been when they were kids and the topsy turvy world he was living in now was not so simple.
Matt's voice cut off and there was the sound of movement on the line until another took over.
"That was just to let you know your brother's still with us, still alive, and we're still waiting."
"Let me speak to him. Put him on again." Danny demanded.
"Did you do what we asked?"
"Let me speak to him and then I'll speak to you." Danny fought to keep his voice as level as that of Matt's captor. He had to create some time. He needed time.
"You're in no position to bargain," the voice warned. "Or should I remind you, he's in no position for you to bargain."
"Look, you mindless, sadistic goon, I know and you know that you are not the one making the decisions here. You got your boss there too? Or is he keeping his distance from this little bit of theatre? 'Cause you know, he may think he's safe, directing this Tarantino gore-fest from up in the gods but I can tell you this now, I'm gonna haul you up from the front row and give you the beating you deserve when I find you. And then I will be bringing him down."
In the stuffy little room where Danny stood the only sound was the quiet thrum of technology at work, but he felt awestruck eyes upon him.
Come on ...More time...give me time...
More movement and a rustling was followed by a breath and then Matt's voice was back, only now it was gabbling and frantic.
"Danny, don't! Don't you do it. This is my fault... just mine. Don't you ruin your life for m..."
The unmistakeable sound of a fist hitting flesh ended Matt's desperate shouts and in the loud thud and cry of pain that followed, Danny's imagination saw his brother crashing over in the chair that he was bound to.
"Hey!" he shouted at the phone. "Hey..."
He waited and stole a glance to his side where fingers tapped on keys and a green screen illuminated the pale face of his nervous companion.
"So, Detective," the deep voice was back. "Do you have what we want?"
Don't kill him...don't kill him...
In his abandonment those months ago, Danny had been shocked to discover he didn't know his brother as well as he had thought he did. Now though he was certain he knew him well enough to have heard the absolute sincerity of his brother's message - beyond the fear and the pain of Matt's pleas was a determination and an apology and a total absolution.
Danny took a deep breath.
"No."
Oh Matty...
His intention was to bluff and stall but Danny couldn't stop an image of Matt's dead body flashing before his eyes and, after only a moment's hesitation, he wavered.
"Look … It's not that easy. We can still do a deal ...I just need some time...you don't have to do th.."
"It seems to me Detective, that you might need some further persuasion. We'll be in touch."
Danny stared at the phone in horror as the line went dead, then turned to the shocked face gazing up at him.
"Anything?" he demanded.
"Sorry, Dude."
The quiet apology left Danny's gut clenching harder and his world falling faster than ever before.
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Steve recognized where their route was taking them as soon as they neared the dirt track. It resembled more of a muddy stream in the pouring rain. He wished he'd brought his truck as the low slung Camaro slid and slipped over its bumps and dips. The little house where it led though was unknown.
Taking in its ramshackle state, Steve shook his head. Only Danny could manage to find somewhere even worse than his own apartment.
The locked door was no barrier to his well placed kick but the only hints to Danny's presence there were a couple of discarded cups from his partner's favorite coffee shop, his baseball team mug, and an abandoned slice of pizza. No pineapple.
He wasted no more time and Kamekona had only just prized himself out of the car and was still lumbering up the broken wooden steps as he pushed past him, heading through the brush at the side of the house towards the sound of loud music beyond.
No need to knock here either. The door to the next wooden shack stood open. It was larger and in better repair. Lived in. The soft glow of multi-colored lights warmed the darkness outside and within, from where a pulsing beat was making the windows vibrate. The unmistakeable smell of marijuana filled the air and Steve followed the hazy trail to a low backed sofa and a familiar figure.
"Hello Adam."
Adam Charles, dope addict, former small-time fraudster and now a major league computer hacker, defied his apparently baked state to leap up in surprise. A fat joint dropped from his lips, as his face registered a moment of panic before falling slack in resignation. He flopped back down into his pillowed nest as Steve crossed to the stereo in the corner and whipped the music down.
"Dude..."
"I'm thinking you might be able to help me find my partner."
"Dude..." He was scrabbling to find the lit joint that had slipped between the cushions.
Steve reached in and snatched it from his fingers.
"Hey, Dude!"
Leaning down to crush it into a tin lid that served as an ashtray at Adam's side, he stayed poised with his face inches from the other man.
"Stop duding me, and just tell me what you know."
Adam's drug stewed brain made the telling longer than it should have been but Steve had seen the hidden computers in his back room before, when he and Danny had used his expertise to help break a cyber terrorism case. Even totally lagged, this young dope head had the skills to break most technology. So his explanation was not really that surprising. The fact that Danny had done all this with him, in secret, still was.
Accessing the Government's network computer. Breaking heavy grade encryption. Burning a trail through the patterns of endless codes. Forging remote access through countless infrastructure systems.
Oh...Chin's gonna tear you a new one, Brah ...all those times you palmed the computer searches off on him, and you're a geek at heart after all...Steve was full of admiration at what his friend had managed to do.
At the end, when he stayed quiet, Adam became anxious. "Dude, it wasn't me...I just, you know, facilitated him...He had all kinds of access but, you know, he was kinda flailing, man. Lost, you know? But kind of driven too, like possessed. Wouldn't tell me where all that came from though. Y'know, he's been good to me ... in the past I mean. For a cop, y'know...I didn't see him most of the time. Once he took that dump next door, I extended my wi-fi to his place, boosted the band, and he worked from there. I hadn't even seen him for a couple of weeks 'til this afternoon..."
"He was here this afternoon? When?"
Adam's brow furrowed in childlike concentration. "A few hours ago maybe," he looked vaguely up at a wooden clock on the wall. It was stopped and the dead flies lying in the bottom of its glass face suggested it had been like that for a while. His eyes snapped back to Steve with a sudden clarity.
"I couldn't help him this time though. I mean, it ain't easy tracing a phone call ...with hardly any notice...I mean, you can do it...You dudes do it all the time, right? But, man, he blew in here and I didn't have any time to set it up..."
"Wait," Steve held up a hand. "Wait. You set up a phone trace? Who was he trying to trace?"
Adam was wide-eyed at his memory of the drama.
"His brother, man...someone's got his brother...they're beating him n'stuff. But your man, he said he wasn't gonna do what they wanted, he just said no and..." he shrugged helplessly. "It sounded real bad, dude."
Steve let out a long breath between pursed lips. Oh yes, this is real bad, alright... In fact, for Danny he doubted it could be any worse.
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Danny leaned his palms against the tiles of the shower and allowed the hot water to beat down on his shoulders, trying to ease the tensions that had built into an ache during the course of his nightmare day. The water mingled with tears he couldn't stop. He'd failed his brother again. He'd signed his death warrant...no-no-no-no-no-no-no...
He watched the water swirling down the plug hole and his heart went with it. Stepping out quickly, he grabbed for a towel and glanced again at the now hated phone he'd left on the side.
After no sleep the night before, and still in shock over the feared consequences of his botched attempt to reason with a psycho, he'd been left with nothing in his reserves. He knew he was going to crash but when the next drop in this headfirst bungee-fall came, and it would, he needed to be ready. Much as he resented the weariness, he didn't know where to turn next and he'd needed a pit stop.
The burner phone sat alongside his own cell. Stepping into his apartment half an hour before he'd been in a stupor of self loathing. All day he'd purposely avoided listening to any of the many messages from Steve and his team, simply noting the number and growing frequency. He'd kept his cell off so he wouldn't be tempted...My mess...my fault...
Now though his friends' concern for him and Rachel's calls, first angry then worried, made him want to run for their help.
God, Steve...what have I done? What have I done?...He was exhausted...Alice in fucking Wonderland...no-no-no...Matty...
The waiting was unbearable. He just wanted to know when this freefall would finally stop.
And then it did.
With the latest two tone alert, Danny Williams hit ground zero and felt his world finally shatter.
The image before him left him gasping for breath and he clutched it to his still bare chest, enfolding it and desperately holding it against himself with both hands, eyes squeezed shut against the latest horror, wishing it was not true but knowing it was.
"No-no-no-no-no..." For many minutes Danny rocked back and forth and begged into the air of the empty apartment.
Then came clarity. Sudden and piercing in the spinning engulfing darkness.
Launching himself towards his one and only closet, he quickly pulled on jeans and a tee-shirt. In moments, the uniform look of the duty cop Danny had always been so proud to be was gone, made redundant and inappropriate by what he knew he would now have to be and do.
With a final glance at the picture on the small screen, he pocketed both phones, pulled open the door and headed out into the driving rain. It was kind of liberating, this feeling that he could finally fall no further.
TBC...
