They had come for him when he was sleeping again. Well, Danny wasn't sure if the word really was sleep, but he supposed it covered the twilight world that he had been in. This time, there had been no beating and while he was more than grateful for that, he had still resisted with all his might and main and had got nowhere. A cloth had been forced into his mouth, which had then been sealed with duct tape. He had been blindfolded again and his feet tightly bound. The goons had wrestled him into the trunk of the car and he had tried to brace himself as best he could against the turns the car took. It didn't stop him being thrown around and there was nothing in the trunk that could help him escape.

After some time, the car stopped and the engine was switched off. Danny heard the doors slamming closed and braced himself, but the trunk did not open and after a while, he relaxed as much as he could. The ache in his body stopped him from dozing off, but he was aware that he was drifting, his thoughts not quite focused.

The sudden opening of the trunk startled him and he jumped uselessly against his bonds. Rough hands grabbed him and yanked him out of the trunk and he drew in a breath of sweet, fresh air. He was half-dragged, half-carried across an uneven surface that he suspected might be grass, but he had no way of telling. He sensed them entering somewhere, but to his limited senses, it didn't seem like a building.

He was forced to his knees, something hard and cold between them and then he was jerked closer to the metallic object by a rope around his waist. He resisted, earning another powerful backhand slap across the face which left his ears ringing. Danny swallowed carefully as he tried to regain his equilibrium and understand what was happening to him. His body was being thoroughly bound to what seemed to be a metal post and fear was thrilling through his gut and prickling along his nerve endings. Where was he and what was going on?

When the blindfold was snatched away a few minutes later, Danny was none the wiser. His body was moulded to the post, with ropes around his knees, his waist, his chest and his neck. He had minimal movement of his head and he was unable to see much because of the dim light. His hands were untied, but to his disgust, he was unable to make any move to fight back because they were so sore and stiff. Before he could muster control of his muscles, his left hand was swathed in duct tape, rendering it useless. Frustrated, Danny gritted his teeth.

"Listen good, cop," London said, crouching down in front of him. "Revenge is sweet and it doesn't get much sweeter than this." He placed a small device into Danny's right hand and his hand was taped closed around it, his thumb the only thing that was free. "This is a dead man's switch," London told him. "Do you know what that is?" He laughed, for he knew well that Danny was an explosives expert. "It's attached to this bomb, which is attached to this post and oh! Guess what? You're attached to this post, too and in a moment, you'll be firmly attached to the bomb as well. I'm going to arm it remotely and you won't know exactly when, but, if you take your thumb off this switch, you'll blow yourself and anyone else nearby to kingdom come." He deliberately placed Danny's thumb on the switch and exerted pressure. There was a small click to show that it had been activated.

Horror flooded Danny's veins. He didn't want to die and he certainly didn't want to die like this, but right at the moment, he was more concerned about any innocent victims he might take with him. The goons carefully placed the bomb against the post right at the level of his chest and tied it round him, reinforcing the ropes with duct tape. His hands were tied together again and then the rope was wound around the post and up around the back of his neck before being tied off to the bomb.

Satisfied, London looked down at Danny. "You won't know when the bomb will be activated," he told Danny. "But if that switch isn't depressed when it is, the bomb will go off. Don't worry, Daniel. I'll be close by, waiting to see what happens." He patted the detective's curly head. "I'm going to phone a personal threat from you to HPD, warning that you are going to kill the governor and McGarrett. The papers are going to get the same threat. Everyone will know you were at the back of this. You sadly bungled the job and killed yourself. Explosives are so unpredictable." London brushed off the front of his jacket. "It's been fun, Daniel," he smiled. "Take care of yourself." Laughing, he walked away.

Barely able to move an inch, Danny emitted a groan. He could see no way out of this mess.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Danno!" Steve moved forward cautiously, ignoring the frantic head shaking his second was currently engaged in. "Take it easy." It hurt his heart to see Danny trussed up like this, but Steve had to know what they were dealing with. He played the flashlight over his detective, careful not to shine the light directly into his eyes. Danny was dirty and dishevelled, his clothing torn and blood splotched. His skin was pale and bruises disfigured his face.

It was clear at once that the bomb squad would be needed. Steve longed to just slice through the ropes that kept Danny bound, but he feared what that move might do. Setting the flashlight down, he reached for the duct tape on his friend's face and slowly eased it off. Danny winced and half spat out the cloth in his mouth. Steve pulled it clear, discarding it on the ground. "Danny, are you all right?" he demanded.

"You've got to get out of here," Danny croaked, all the moisture leached from his mouth and throat. "I don't know when this will go off and my hand is on a dead man's switch. Steve, get out of here!"

"Your hand…" Steve looked more closely and winced. "I'll get the bomb squad, Danno. Don't worry. As soon as I come back, I'll put my finger on the switch." He patted Danny's shoulder. "We'll get you out of this."

"You don't understand," Danny whispered, anguished. "You can't swap the pressure like that. It might be enough to set this thing off." He coughed slightly. "London said he would be watching. Steve, get out!"

"Not without you!" Steve vowed. "I'll be right back." Leaving the light with Danny, he ran out from under the platform and headed towards the car.

It took a few moments for his eyes to adjust to the difference in light and he almost missed the man who threw himself from the undergrowth. Steve half-turned to meet the attack and went down under the other man's weight. He took a blow on his shoulder and blocked another by raising his arm, but he knew he had to subdue his opponent – whoever it was – fast! Danny's life depended on him getting help.

Punches continued to fly between the two men, but neither could gain an advantage over the other. They rolled around on the grass, grappling for position. Steve could not get at his gun and he was determined the other man would not get at it either. He rolled away, and found himself pinned on his back. Under his hand, Steve felt a hard object and without a moment's pause, he grasped the large round stone and crashed it off his opponent's head. The other man fell to the side, off Steve, but didn't let go. Steve took advantage of his unexpected blow and put the other man down and out with one devastating punch.

Panting, getting shakily to his feet, Steve wiped the sweat from his face and winced at the sore places he found. He would doubtless bear some bruising later, but for now, that didn't matter. He reached down to cuff the unconscious man at his feet and dragged him over to the car. He didn't know who the guy was, but it wasn't London. It took a bit of doing, but Steve was able to heave him into the trunk. Drawing a deep breath, and anxiously wondering where Kono was, Steve reached for the mic. "Central, this is McGarrett. I need the bomb squad as well as HPD backup. I may need an ambulance, too. Send one on standby. We need portable lighting, as well."

"10-4," the dispatcher acknowledged. "HPD back-up as requested should be with you shortly."

It was a relief to know that Kono had been able to radio for help, but Steve was still worried about where the big man had gotten to. He didn't have the leisure to look for him though. Danny's position was precarious and Steve needed to be with him. London was almost certainly watching the goings-on and Steve feared he would remotely arm the bomb and then do something to ensure that Danny could no longer keep the switch depressed.

"Kono?" he called, but there was no answering shout. His heart in his mouth, Steve ran back across the grass to the platform.

The expression on Danny's face when he saw his mentor was a mixture of fear and relief: fear that Steve's return placed his friend in danger and relief that he was no longer alone. Somehow, Danny was sure that Steve would manage to get him out of this.

"How's it, Danno?" Steve asked as he knelt by Danny.

"I'm fine," Danny lied. The simple act of keeping his thumb on the switch was already using significantly more effort than it had a few minutes before. His already aching muscles were now trembling from maintaining the position he had been forced into and the inability to move was wearing on his nerves. He glanced at Steve's face in the uncertain light and saw that Steve had some understanding of his predicament.

"Can I remove this rope from around your neck?" Steve asked, exploring it cautiously with his fingers. He described where it went as best he could. Danny thought about it, mentally tracing the rope as Steve spoke.

"Yes," he agreed. Being able to move his head would be a relief and the rope was biting uncomfortably into his skin. He still couldn't help tensing as Steve sliced through the rope. He flexed his neck and Steve's long fingers gently subbed the abraded area. "Thanks." He swallowed dryly. "You don't have something to drink, do you?" His thirst was overwhelming.

"I'm sorry; I wish I had." While the regrets were real enough, Steve was concentrating on extricating his friend from this predicament, not realising how long it had been since Danny had had anything to eat or drink.

Sighing, for he hadn't expected any other answer, Danny glanced up as a flicker of movement behind Steve caught his attention. He opened his mouth to speak but was pre-empted by an all-too-familiar voice. "Mr McGarrett, if you don't want both you and Williams to be blown to Kingdom Come in the next few moments, I suggest you stop what you are doing and put your hands up."

Freezing, Steve shot a glance at Danny. His second was already pale, but he had lost what little remaining colour he had and sweat had sprung into being on his brow. The faintest of trembles coursed over his limbs. Moving slowly and keep eye contract with Danny, Steve raised his hands. "Nicolas London," Steve said, grimly. "I thought you wanted the governor to die, too?" His tone was admirably conversational.

"The governor would be a bonus," London replied calmly. "You are the one I really want to die. Get on your feet and face me."

With a nod of reassurance to his still-captive officer, Steve got to his feet and turned to face London. The Englishman was not carrying a gun, as Steve had suspected. He held what looked, in the uncertain light, like a small TV remote control. "You've got me," Steve offered. "Let Danny go."

"Oh come, Mr McGarrett," London laughed. "Do you really think that will work? Mr Williams is going to die in his own bomb plot, taking you along with him."

Sirens, which Steve had only subconsciously noticed before, were drawing closer. Help was on the way. He feared that it wouldn't get there on time. "Nobody will believe that of Danny," Steve stated confidently. He could hear Danny's uneven breathing behind him and silently vowed to get his friend out of this situation alive. At the moment though, a plan eluded him. "You do know that half the HPD has just arrived don't you?" the lead detective went on. "It's going to take more than the few minutes that you have left to blow us up. Danny isn't tired yet, are you, Danno?"

Valiantly Danny replied, "No, Steve." McGarrett hoped that only he could hear the exhaustion that mingled with the strain of nerves stretched to the breaking point.

"Believe me, McGarrett, I can do it," London snarled. "You'll have plenty of time to regret killing my son as you wait for your own death after seeing Williams die."

While it seemed that London did not have a gun, Steve felt a thrill of fear. A single shot from even a mediocre marksman could kill or seriously injure the helpless detective. He took a sideways step, blocking Danny from London's view.

Outside, over London's shoulder, in the light from the lone spot, Steve could see cops crossing the grass warily. Well to the fore was Kono! Steve felt a surge of relief as he fought to keep his attention on London. He didn't know what Kono had in mind, but he didn't want to alert the criminal to the big Hawaiian detective's presence.

"Your son was a criminal, just like you and he died in a shootout while you resisted arrest," Steve reminded the man. He still carried the scar from this man's gun. He kept his eyes trained on London.

At the last possible second, London sensed someone behind him. He half turned as Kono launched himself at the criminal. There was an audible click as London armed the bomb and the device itself began to tick. Danny made a sound of despair. "Get out!" he croaked. He didn't know how much longer he could hold down the switch. Lack of food and water, the beating he had endured - it had all taken a toll.

"Not without you!" McGarrett vowed again as he dived at Danny. Kono was more than a match for London and had the criminal pinned to the ground. "Cuff him and get out of here, Kono!" McGarrett ordered. He began to slice at the ropes that held the bomb against the pole.

"Steve, please," Danny groaned but his boss ignored him.

Suddenly, there was another man there, clad in the heavily padded uniform of a bomb disposal expert. "Get him out," he barked at Steve. "Hurry!"

He didn't need to say it twice. Danny was still entangled in rope, his limbs bound, but Steve didn't hesitate. His friend was no longer bound to the pole and that was what mattered. Grabbing his man, he ran for the outside. Kono was there in seconds, reaching for Danny's other arm and together, they ran across the grass, carrying Danny between them. There was a bleeding scrape down Kono's cheek and it looked like he was developing a black eye, too, but there was no time or breath to ask.

Behind them, the bomb disposal expert heaved the bomb as far into the open sports field as he could and dived for cover. With an enormous roar, the bomb exploded, flames shooting high into the air, lighting up the dark sky. The concussion from the blast knocked everyone in the vicinity off their feet. Dirt and debris rained down on the Five-O men, pelting them with small missiles. Steve thought he should shelter Danny with his body, but he had had the wind knocked out of him and something pinged painfully off his head, sending him into darkness for a moment.

His next thought was that hands were grabbing at him and Steve resisted for a moment as he felt Danny being taken from his hands. Forcing his eyes open, Steve saw that the hands belonged to cops and he relaxed slightly, allowing them to pull himself and his detectives further away from the inferno that blazed behind them.

Breath came back with a jolt and Steve could feel his head clearing a bit. He shook off the men who were trying to help him and staggered over to Danny's side. "Danno?"

The younger man had his eyes closed. He didn't respond. "Get an ambulance," Steve ordered, fumbling with the ropes and tape that kept his man captive. "Kono, are you all right?" he asked.

"Fine, boss," Kono replied. The big Hawaiian looked dazed, but he was awake and aware and responding, so Steve took his reply at face value – for the moment. He would make sure that Kono was checked out at the hospital, too.

The ropes and particularly the tape on Danny's hands eluded Steve's fingers. Another cop efficiently cut through the hemp with his pocket knife. Someone else teased the tape loose. Steve, watching in bemusement, wondered why his own coordination was so off. He glanced over his shoulder at the fire that was burning on the playing field and remembered the suited-up member of the bomb squad. "Is…?" Steve couldn't think who that man had been, although he knew him perfectly well.

"It's all right, sir," a cop told him, somehow guessing what he wanted to know. "Nobody was killed or badly injured, but I think Jim Douglas probably can't hear anything very much right now." The young cop guided McGarrett's attention to the bomb disposal van where his crew was helping Douglas get out of his suit. As the fire department turned hoses on the blaze, Douglas glanced over and gave Steve a thumbs up.

There was a lot of noise and shouting as the police secured the area. "Duke!" Steve exclaimed suddenly, seeing the sergeant going past. "There's a man in the trunk of my car. I think he's part of this too." He didn't know how he could possibly have forgotten that.

"We'll get him, Steve," Duke Lukela promised, signalling to another man to deal with the prisoner. "Are you all right, Steve?" He crouched by the Five-O detectives, eyeing them all worriedly.

"Of course," Steve responded briskly, but he was rather taken aback to realise how clearly he could see Duke given that it was dark. Blinking, he saw that more temporary lighting had been set up, turning night into day. How had he missed that? "Good work on the lights," he added vaguely. Oddly, the praise only made the worried look that Duke wore intensify.

"Steve, I think you need to go to the hospital, too," Duke suggested gently.

"I'm fine," Steve insisted with asperity, but when he pushed to his feet, the world took a sickening tilt and he would have fallen if the HPD officer hadn't caught him.

"Come on," Duke urged, but Steve still baulked.

"Danno…"

"Danny's already in the ambulance," Duke soothed and with the help of a paramedic, he got Steve across the few feet of grass that separated him from the vehicle. As Steve got in, he was mildly surprised to see Kono already sitting on the bench and Danny on the stretcher. When had that happened?

Leaning over to touch Danny's arm, Steve saw a drop of blood land on the while blanket that covered his friend. A second drop joined the first, but it wasn't until a gauze pad was pressed to his own head that Steve realised he was bleeding. A head injury certainly explained his lack of concentration at the scene.