Chapter 10- Run Tinman Run!
Hey guys, so thank you for all the wonderful reviews. Mahalo. To answer most of your questions.
Of course!' to some of you and 'of course not! to the others. Depending on your review. Some of you are way too much in my head. The prediction kings and queens.
So lets see what happens shall we now,
PS- Same song still playing.
Ryan Star- Losing your memory.
Where have you gone
The beach is so cold in winter here
And where have I gone
I wake in Montauk with you near
Remember the day
'Cause this is what dreams should always be
I just want to stay
I just want to keep this dream in me
...
The whole room went still, hearts in their throats. They had failed again. Another terrorist attack on American soil and they had failed. Children. For Christ's sake, children!
Then something weird happened. The look on Hassan's face as he listened for the same sound they were all listening for. It never came. They saw Hassan's transition from mild disbelief to shock to embarrassment then outrage. Steve saw all that in that millisecond before the video went blank. All the Agencies were going crazy, alerts were going crazy everywhere and HQ was no better.
They all rushed out to see where the smoke was. There was nothing. No smoke, no sound. Nothing.
The whole of America was watching, hearts in their throats, and there was nothing. They waited, anxious, scared. It never happened.
...
Hassan pressed the detonator, then pressed it again. Nothing happened. Nothing was happening.
Such embarrassment, such utter shame he could not stomach. Nobody plays him like this, in front of the whole world and lives to talk about it. But this was a new one. A whole new level of shame. His fame, the fame he had planned for so long was now ending in utter shame. He was going to skin someone alive. He could not see clear with rage.
He cut the video quickly.
"Why is there no boom?" He asked, his eyes wild with rage. "Why is there no boom?! Where is my Boom?! Madison!"
"There should be. I did everything right." Madison defended, trembling. Then he turned and looked at Danny. "You were acting strange, what did you do?" He said, pointing a finger at Danny accusingly.
They all turned to look at him, Danny stood his ground.
"You obviously did something wrong, you're the expert on this. I never touched anything." Danny defended.
Hassan never took his eyes off him, looking at him suspiciously. "Madison never does anything wrong." He said, taking a step towards Danny, menacingly. "You've been malfunctioning of late."
Danny could feel them closing in on him. They were all looking at him. All eight of them.
Danny reacted quickly, instinctively, but most of all he had planned for this. Since the moment he tempered with the bombs he knew his time with this group was going to end one way or the other. With him down or every single one of these morons dead. And he would try his damnedest to make sure that he killed them, because it was either him or them. And if they lived then the children will surely die. He knew Hassan, and he will surely try again. Just to make a point.
With lightning speed his right hook connected with Hassan's jaw and he saw him reel back from the force of it. Then he kneed him in the stomach, quickly taking advantage of Hassan's now bent over shape he connected his foot with his face, again. The others were apparently shocked immobile because they just stood there, shocked at what he was doing. He grabbed his machine gun and started spraying bullets, at that time bullets were now coming from every which way for him. He made a run for it, ducking blindly as he made his way out.
He had anticipated this. He had planned for this. He had his own detonator in his hand, but he had to get as far away as he could so he could not be caught in the blast as well. But the crew was hot on his heels, bullets flying. He felt a hot piercing pain in his leg, he had been shot. And with the way this had suddenly turned into world war III, he had no way of winning if he stalled any further. He pressed the button and the power of the blast alone carried him up in the air. All went blank around him as he hit the ground hard.
...
Steve led his team through the jungle again, looking at his GPS to get the coordinates he had been given by Toast out of habit. They were all at this point just following the smoke. It was the same place they had seen the the dark thick smoke go up. It had been a tense weird moment. One moment they were waiting to hear a blast in the highly populated area of Honolulu, most likely a school. Then the next few minutes they heard it, but it didn't come from anywhere they had anticipated. It came from the jungle. What the hell just happened because that didn't make any sense. There was no one to bomb in the jungle. Hassan could either be an imbecile, which they all knew he was anything but, or his plan had been shot to hell. It didn't take them long to get to the jungle. They followed the blast. It wasn't too far in the jungle actually. Hassan's crew had been hiding right under their noses. It wasn't his team alone this time. It was everyone. The Army had set up a perimeter, the Seals were hiding somewhere in there, then CIA, Homeland, Swat.
The fire guys had to go first to put out the fire. Steve just held his breath as they all had to stand down while the fire guys dealt with the fire. Danny was in that fire. He had died in that fire. Had he caused it? Was he the one who had tanked the bombs? If so then how? Was his memory back now? Had he recovered his memory before he decided to do this? And killed himself in the process?.
He rushed in with the others as soon as the fire guys gave the clear. Bodies. Bodies everywhere. Some of the bodies were not that burnt but yeah, the people here were dead alright. No one within a 100 meter of that blast could have survived.
...
He woke up his head ringing and hurting like a sonofabitch. But he got up. Because if he stayed there a minute longer Hassan or those army people were gonna get him. He could see them but they couldn't see him. At least not yet. They were too focused on the blast, but he was already in the opposite direction. He just had to get up, be smart about it and drag his foot out of that jungle. He shook his head to get his bearing. He got up. He had to run. He had to keep going. He moved for a few minutes and he noticed that he was not going to go very far with a leg so busted, bleeding all over the place like that. He leaned against a tree and took a few heaving breaths. He ripped off part of his shirt and made a makeshift tourniquet around the wound on his leg. He started walking, dragging that leg as quick as he could manage. He knew where the main road was. He wasn't too far from there; he just had to be careful.
He half walked half ran for about a mile before he could see the road. There were many cars parked there, in a parking lot. It looked like a Mall or something, he had been here before, when he and Madison had gone to set the bombs in the schools they had passed by here.
He checked to see if there was anyone looking as he approached the parking lot undetected, so far. He went for a nice looking sports car. It looked like it could get him anywhere at top speed, and speed was all he needed. He knew how to drive a car, he knew how to hot wire a car. He knew how to do a lot of things by instinct or maybe by being taught, he didn't know. But he had never had anyone teach him how to eat or how to drink beer. He just didn't know who he was, where he came from, what he stood for. But he knew a whole lot of other things by pure instinct. Whatever they did to him it didn't completely render him incapacitated. They had even taught him how to make a bomb and how to unmake it. But they never needed to teach him how to use a gun. Somehow, he had known how to do that as good a he had known how to speak.
The car started and he breathed in relief. He pulled out of the parking lot and started driving. He looked in the review mirror and saw someone waving frantically for him for stop. It must the owner of the car; he had no time to think about that guy. He had to get away. He kept driving. He didn't know who he was, who to run to, where to go, but he just kept on driving. He had just blasted the only family he had known. He had no one.
...
Steve searched and searched yet Danny wasn't there. He kept searching frantically but his body wasn't there.
"Hey! I got Hassan. The son of a bitch is still alive!" One of the Seals yelled and they all rushed to him.
"The infidel. The damned infidel!" Hassan was yelling in rage. The guy had all kinds of injuries and half of his face burnt but he was still talking out of the side of his mouth. Well, talking was the only thing he could do now.
"Get the son of bitch out of here in cuffs; get him out of my sight." Styles said, taking point.
"No, wait a minute." Steve said, going to Hassan. "What infidel you sonofabitch? What infidel?"He asked anxiously.
"The infidel, he did this to me. I will kill him. Tinman I will kill you!" he yelled in rage.
Steve stood up in shock, the air leaving his lungs he couldn't breath. It was Danny. Danny did this.
Unfortunately Steve was not the only one who heard. "There's one missing. Follow every trace and take him out." Styles said to his team.
"Take him out? Are you kidding me?" Steve was outraged.
"I am not kidding. Neutralise the threat, those were my orders and unlike you I am not willing to let some terrorist run wild just because he used to be my friend." Styles countered. The bad blood between the two once again simmering.
"We got a blood trial. It's going to the main road!" Someone yelled.
"Follow it. Everyone your first priority is to neutralise the threat. Do you hear me?" Styles said, not taking his eyes off Steve. Challenging.
"Kono, Chin go." Steve said as he gave them a knowing look. They knew what they had to do.
Both Styles and Steve's radios transmitted at that moment, taking their attention for a moment.
"We had a vehicle jacking just a few minutes ago from the Mall's parking lot." The radio transmitted.
"That's our guy, set up a road block and pursue with caution and if you have to, take him out. The target is armed and dangerous." Styles ordered through his radio.
'You know what Styles, I've had it with you acting and thinking that you can come here and start to take point on my Island. And I've had it with you and this 'take him' out slogan of yours. This guy you are pursuing with such malice is one of ours, clearly. He just took out Hassan's entire team. Stop acting like you're the one who did it." Steve was now fuming.
"It could have been an operation gone wrong." Styles countered, unrelenting.
"It could be, but would you really want to take that chance? Take the chance of being the one who killed a hero?" Steve stressed.
"A hero?" Styles snorted derisively.
"Yes a hero. And I will not stop until the whole world knows that you're the one who killed the one person who saved their children today and took out one of the biggest terrorist groups in the world. I guarantee you you'll get more airtime with all kinds of hate messages than the guy who killed that lion in Africa."
"What was his name again?" Lou asked
"The guy?" McGarrett asked, distracted.
"No the lion."
"Cecil."
"What about the guys name?"
"Don't know, just the guy who killed Cecil."
"'The guy who killed the hero'. Not a good caption Commander." Lou said with a shake of his head at Styles who had been watching the exchange between Steve and Lou with ire.
"Call off your dogs Styles." Steve said threateningly.
Styles looked reluctant but he knew when he was beat. He spoke through his radio. "All units, pursue but do not engage. Do you copy? Do not engage."
"Copied Sir." Was the response
"Now, I am gonna take point on this one. I and my team and HPD will coordinate this situation. I know him, I know how to talk to him, he'll listen to me." Steve said to Styles who just nodded reluctantly. Coming to a somewhat fragile truce, they made their way out of the jungle.
...
This is unreal, McGarrrett thought as he drove the vehicle chasing after Danny. How could this be real? He was driving a car chasing after Danny. But through all of that Steve couldn't help but smirk at Danny's choice of vehicle. A sports car. So typical. So Danno. The whole of HPD had set road block ahead of him. They had already come out of their vehicles hiding behind their vehicles pointing their guns at Danny. Danny. The Army was there, guns ready and pointed at Danny. And the Navy for Christ's sake! And Steve was taking point on this one. As the only remaining terrorist threat, all guns where on Danny, who was now trapped with nowhere to go. Steve pulled out his own gun as he pulled up at the road block, Danny was blocked in, he had nowhere to run. He was trapped and Steve was there being part of that trap. It made him want to cry. Danny remained in the vehicle, unsure of what to do. And he was hurt, he had been injured. They had followed a trial of blood from the jungle to the main road. His blood. Steve could feel his loneliness at that moment; he could feel how lost Danny felt at that moment. With no help, with no one to count on. And Steve was here, but Danny couldn't remember to count on him. His memory was so warped he couldn't remember that he wasn't alone. It hurt him so bad that his brother was here, within reach and in trouble but he couldn't remember to count on him. Danny couldn't remember him and Steve was about ready to break down at that moment because he felt so helpless. Steve stood behind his own vehicle with a mike in one hand and a gun in the other. It was a gut retching pain, that he was pointing a gun at Danny right now. Danny who couldn't remember his place in the world. Danny who couldn't remember Him. And now the only memory he was gonna have of Steve was of him standing with the rest of the world against him, pointing a gun at him. It used to be them against the world more often than not. Now Danny was on the other side, alone. Danny had no one.
"We have you surrounded; get out of the vehicle now, with your hands up." He said, his voice weak and shaky. He could not summon the authority his voice is used to carrying. This was Danny and this was unreal. This was fucking unreal!
But he had to do it. For Danny's sake. He had requested to take point on this one and he will make damned sure that Danny made it out of this alive. He would have approached the vehicle and tried to negotiate, coax him into remembering, into surrendering. He might even pull that off because even if Danny didn't remember, he had saved his life back in the jungle a week ago. Something in him had remembered enough to save him. Yeah, Steve could take that chance; God only knew he wasn't thinking about himself right now.
That's why he didn't. That's why he took point, standing with the other law enforcers talking to Danny from a mike, like a stranger. He had to. Because If he approached Danny right now, who may or may not be open to negotiation, who may react in an unpredictable way, there was only one way that could go down. With Danny dead. Danny could try to shoot Steve, he might try to fight back, and he might raise his gun against Steve and Steve could not let that happen. Danny would get himself killed. Steve was not about to take that chance.
He looked at the other uniforms, waiting for him to fail, waiting for that single opportunity to open fire. The blood thirsty suckers. And Steve knew enough to know that though he was taking point on this one, it was only courtesy. There was no Five O jurisdiction now. This was a matter of National Security and he was surrounded by people who tolerated no failure.
"This is Commander Steve McGarrett, I am asking you to come out with your hands up. You are completely surrounded, surrender now." He said again, looking askance at the others, feeling the impatience. "There's no place else to go, come out of the vehicle now Sir." He tried being impersonal. But with each word he spoke he felt himself breaking. He was breaking.
There was no response, Danny didn't move. And Styles was beginning to fidget impatiently besides him.
"Danny." He whispered through the mike, his voice full of emotion. He didn't care anymore what the Military and the Navy and the goddamned Homeland Security thought. This was his brother.
His team just waited there with him, waiting for his lead, no doubt feeling the same apprehension.
He looked at the vehicle, he looked through, he could still see Danny sited in the car, not making a move.
"Danny please." Steve pleaded through the speaker, not caring how pathetic he sounded. No doubt the other Commanders were rolling their eyes. But he didn't care. He was now communicating with Danny at a level only he and Danny understood. It was not in the words but in the connection they shared. In the tone, in the emotions projected. It was with the heart. And amnesiac Danny or not, this language he was bound to understand. Steve prayed he would be able to understand. He held his breath, focusing on their connection. Communicating with him from that distance, using no words.
Suddenly the door was opened. Slowly, hesitantly Danny stepped out. He looked defeated. And Steve felt raw just looking at him. His leg shabbily bandaged by a piece of his shirt. The shirt that he wore now a half torn rag, with soot and mud and blood. His clear blue eyes no longer looked vacant. They looked confused and lost. He looked tired. Like he was done. With everything. Like he was done trying. Even done running.
He held his gun against his leg as he stood leaning on his good leg but not leaning on the car. He stood on his own, in his own strength. He was going to die like a man. Standing in his own strength.
Steve saw that in his eyes as clear as day. He saw it before it even happened. Because he knew Danny better than he knew himself. And he knew that look. The stubborn son of a bitch! Amnesia or not he was still Danno.
He moved, he didn't even know when he started moving, running towards Danny, because he knew what was about to happen. He saw it before it happened. He was yelling, "Don't shoot! Don't shoot! Hold your fire!" He had to get to Danny, because he was about to do something stupid.
He saw it happen, Danny raising his gun at the general audience of police and armed forces.
"Don't shoot!" Steve yelled as he dived the rest of the way to tackle Danny down. But he was too late. A shot had already rang out. Multiple shots actually. God please don't let me be too late. He begged.
He landed flat on Danny and tried to covered him from the still flying bullets. He felt one it his back on his vest, then another not too far from the already hit spot on his back. He crawled up and covered Danny completely. He felt another hit him on the shoulder. That one he felt because it hit flesh. But he would not let go, he only hang on tighter. But his vision was blurring, his head spinning and it hurt like he had been hit by a tone of bricks. He'd been hit. In the head, no less. His speech was now coming out a little slurred. "Don't shoot. Don't shoot .Don't shoot." More to himself now since it was a little above a whisper. He heard someone screaming in the background, "Stop you morons! Hold your fire! Can't you see? Do you want to kill them? Huh? Is that your goal? That was your goal all along right?" She was hysterical. It was Kono. He could only hear it from a distance.
He could feel the hands of his team, Lou and Chin possibly, trying to pull him away from Danny, but he would not hear of it. He kept covering him, he kept shielding, and he kept chanting more to himself now as he was fast losing consciousness and he could feel himself losing his grip on Danny.
He held on tight, "Don't shoot, don't shoot. Please don't shoot." He was crying now, and he held on.
"He's my brother."
That was the last coherent thought he had. Possibly the last words out of his mouth as he pleaded against the darkness engulfing him. He was losing the battle but still he pleaded. He tried, he really tried. But eventually he let go.
You're losing your memory now
You're losing your memory now
You're losing your memory now
You're losing your memory
...
So there. If you liked or felt anything do let me know. Se you in a bit.