A/N: Thank you, thank you, thank you for reading and reviewing the last chapter! I'm really surprised and overwhelmed by the response to this little story, so THANK YOU again. I hope you'll enjoy this chapter! :)

Chapter 10

There was no time for standard procedure right now and Danny swore it was just because there was never anything standard with Steve McGarrett. But hauling Fuentes' goons back to HQ, putting them into the dark interrogation room, putting long and hard enough pressure on them until they caved and gave up their boss' location really wasn't an option. They had to move fast. For all they knew, Fuentes didn't really have a reason to keep Steve alive; it didn't matter whether or not he knew that Steve wasn't actually Matt.

The only hope Danny had left for his partner to still be alive was that Fuentes was old fashioned and cliché when it came to revenge. That he would take his time and make him suffer.

Fuck. Here he was, hoping that Steve was being tortured right now, because the alternative was just not something he even wanted to think about.

Danny was still a little unsteady on his feet, but screw that, he would crawl if he had to. Chin was next to him, ready to carry his ass if necessary and, hell, it might be. What had looked like a relatively short distance at first glance now felt like a marathon to Danny. He was almost panting when they finally reached the main entrance of the warehouse. Thankfully, the squad car with Fuentes' goons inside was parked just outside the building.

"Open it," Chin said to a young HPD officer – his name eluded Danny's concussed head at the moment, but the face seemed familiar – and gestured for him to open the back door of the car.

The officer looked somewhat worried from Chin to Danny but eventually did as he was told.

Danny took a moment to study the five faces. The truth was, though, that they all looked the same to him. His vision was still pretty blurry and it was really dark and this could be a car full of Victoria's Secret models and he wouldn't be able to tell the difference. But he took Chin's word for it that he was performing for the right audience. Because he was making a show of looking them up and down, assessing them, singling out the weak link. When he was done, he jerked his head towards the guy on the right. "That one," he said to Chin, who progressed to haul the guy out of the car. Danny smiled at the remaining four before he slammed the door shut.

"Hey," Danny hollered to get the HPD officer's attention. "Why don't you go take a walk."

"But- but I'm supposed to watch them," the kid sputtered, confused.

"It's okay, Aaron," Chin assured him. "We got them."

"But I'm not supposed to-"

"Take a walk, kid," Danny warned, losing his patience fast. "You don't wanna be here for this," he added, slapping the goon on his back. He had to hide a satisfied smile when he felt the guy flinch.

"The chief said that under no circumstances-"

"Officer Kaiwi," Chin interrupted, now clearly pulling rank on the poor guy and staring him down menacingly. "Detective Williams could really use a cup of coffee right about now."

Sighing, Aaron Kaiwi finally caved. "I'll be right back," he muttered defeated and then stalked away, peeking over his shoulder, trying to see what was going to happen.

Grabbing Fuentes' guy by the color of his shirt, Chin dragged him around to the side of the car where they were out of sight from everyone. He gave the man a firm push, making him stumble and crash his face into the car, since he was unable to break the fall with his hands cuffed behind his back.

"What the fuck, man?"

Danny didn't give the man any time to recover. He grabbed him by the color again, shoved him up against the car and planted his forearm across his throat, almost sealing off his airway. Ignoring the pain flaring up in his head, Danny craned his neck up at the guy and pressed down a little harder. "Where's Fuentes?"

The man had the nerve to flash him a strangled grin. "I'm not saying anything without my lawyer," he hissed, barely able to draw in a decent breath.

Danny smiled back. Then he grabbed for the gun in Chin's holster with his free hand and brought it up to the guy's head. "You sure about that? Huh?" he asked through gritted teeth, pressing the sig against the man's temple.

Clearly uncomfortable now, the guy grunted. "You're not gonna shoot me, cop," he spat.

Danny grinned at that and turned to Chin. "He thinks I'm not gonna shoot him."

"Come on, brah," Chin said with a casual shrug, "cut him some slack. He's obviously not from here. Probably doesn't know how we do things on this island."

"You're right," Danny agreed conversationally, before he turned his head back to the guy in front of him. "Do you really want me to show you how we do things around here?" he asked, thumbing the safety off. "Huh?"

"You're bluffing," the guy hissed. "Puta," he added and spat Danny in the face.

"What did you just call me?"

"Puta," the man repeated and grinned at him widely.

"I think he just called you a little bitch, Danny," Chin said calmly.

Danny let go of the guy and turned away from him, carefully wiping the spit from his face, avoiding his swollen nose as good as possible. "Uncuff him, Chin," he said with a sniff.

Chin gave him a knowing smile, before he did as Danny had told him. Even though they hadn't talked this through, they both knew how to play it. Yup, Danny thought, in just under a year Steve had managed to screw them all up pretty well.

"Ey, what are you doing?" the crook yelled when Danny aimed the gun at him again.

"Well," Danny said and shrugged nonchalantly, "telling IA that you attacked my partner and forced me to shoot you is just that much more believable when you're not wearing the pretty bracelets, so . . ." He left the sentence hanging, for dramatic reasons, and turned to Chin. "Double tap center mass or should I make him suffer?"

Chin sucked in a breath, pretending to be contemplating the question. "Ah, I don't know brah. Probably better take him right out. We don't wanna risk him surviving and telling anyone about all this, right?"

Danny grinned at Chin. "Come on, who'd believe this guy."

"True," Chin agreed, tilting his head.

"I was thinking about going for his throat," Danny said and raised the gun a little higher. "Maybe I get lucky, hit major artery or something, making him choke on his own blood."

"Ambitious," Chin commented, raising his eyebrows approvingly. "Would also help to explain the bruises you left on his neck."

"We were only trying to stop the bleeding."

"But unfortunately we were unable to save him," Chin added with a heavy sigh.

"So," Danny said and turned his attention back to the guy who was now desperately trying to disappear into the wall of the squad car behind him. "Last chance, buddy. Where did Fuentes take my brother?"

The man hesitated, looking from Danny to Chin and then back at Danny. Back at the gun in his hand. But he didn't say anything.

"Okay then," Danny said and raised the gun to aim at the man's neck.

"NO! Wait!"

Bingo.

Danny lowered the gun a couple inches. "Where is he?"

"There's a- an airfield somewhere off Kamehameha Highway," the guy stuttered, slowly sliding down the side of the car, his eyes never leaving the gun in Danny's hand.

Danny looked over to Chin, raising his eyebrows and he understood his unspoken question immediately. Only barely noticeable, Chin shook his head and shrugged. Nope, he didn't have a clue what airfield the guy was talking about either.

"Not good enough," Danny barked. Even he knew that Kamehameha Highway was too freaking long for them to go looking for Steve without more information than this. He kept the sig trained on the guy's head. Maybe. It was kind of hard to aim when you were seeing two of everything.

"I don't know where exactly it is, okay." The guy was terrified. "Th- there are instructions on my phone. Please, that's all I know."

With a jerk of his head – and damn, he shouldn't have done that because, a, it fucking hurt and, b, the world around him started spinning all of a sudden, making him nauseous and dizzy – Danny indicated to Chin to put the cuffs back on the guy. He didn't even put up any resistance, just flinched away a little, when the cuffs clicked around his wrists.

Using his entire body, Chin shoved the man against the car once more. "We'll be back for you if you lied to us."

And shit, Chin could be all kinds of scary if he wanted to.

"We're so getting fired for this." Edith heaved a sigh and ran a hand through her hair, not bothering that she was tearing her bun apart in the process.

"We're not the ones threatening to shoot people," Bix said from behind her.

"But we are the ones who are watching and not doing anything about it, so-" She sighed again.

"Well, then stop looking."

"I can't."

"Right, forgot who I was talking to."

Edith frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing."

She growled in frustration. "Hey, why don't you go looking for that Officer Kalkwa and be annoying around her? I know you want to."

"Her name is Kal-a-kau-a," Bix said, pronouncing each syllable. "It means 'day of battle'."

"When, in all this, did you have the time to wikipedia her name?"

"I can multitask."

"Great, so you're better at being a woman than I am. That's . . . not surprising at all."

Bix just ignored the comment. "Did you know that Kalakaua was also the last name of the last reigning king of the Kingdom of Hawai'i?"

"No. I did not know that. But thanks for the . . . useless trivia."

"Maybe she's a princess."

"Maybe you should ask her about it." Hopefully she'll rip your head off for it.

"Hey Conrad!" Kelly suddenly yelled, sticking his head through the door of the warehouse. "You got a second, brah?"

Edith stared at him.

"Sure thing, man," Bix replied, grinning widely at Edith and patting her on the back (making her stumble, almost knocking her over with that gigantic paw of his. Thanks for that, Lurch) before he started walking towards the door.

"What are you, making friends now?" Edith hissed in a whisper so that Kelly couldn't hear her, hurrying to catch up with her partner.

"You jealous?"

"No," was her far too quick answer, because . . . yes, kind of. She huffed. "Traitor."

"You are jealous." She could practically hear his satisfied grin.

"Am not. And besides, does your new buddy know that you wanna get into his sister's pants?"

"They're cousins."

"Same difference."

"It's not."

"On this island, it is."

"Doesn't matter. Chin likes me."

Oh, so it's Chin now. "Because he doesn't know you."

Bix ignored her. Again. "What's up, man?" he asked Kelly as they walked through the door of the warehouse.

"We got a lead on a location for McGarrett. All I gotta do is figure out where HPD put these guys' cell phones." With a wave of his hand, Kelly indicated the lot behind them, which was buzzing with well-organized chaotic activity by now. "Could you guys keep an eye on Danny for me for a sec?"

Edith looked up and saw Williams leaning heavily against the squad car with his back, digging the heels of his palms firmly into his eye sockets and trying to breathe evenly.

"I think he's coming off of the adrenaline rush fast and I don't want him to pass out and hit his head again," Chin said, looking over his shoulder to his partner himself now. "Maybe you could take him back to Kono and Grace, they're waiting over at my truck."

"Sure thing, man," Bix said, his whole face lighting up at the mention of Kono's name.

Barf.

And then he fist-bumped Kelly.

Since when was Conrad Bixler the socially competent one anyway?

Kelly hurried away and when Bix looked after him for a brief moment, eyes glazed, mouth slightly agape, it hit Edith. "You have a huge, epic crush on the entire task force, don't you?"

"What?" Bix asked, snapping out of his state of awe. Or something. "Oh, come on, don't be ridiculous, Edie."

"I'm not the one being ridiculous."

Bix gave her a serious look but then a sheepish smile spread across his face. "Come on, you gotta admit that they're kind of awesome."

"You and I, we gonna need to have a conversation about your definition of the term 'awesome', but now is not the time." Because out of the corner of her eye, Edith could see Williams hunching forward and then doubling over, like he was getting ready to puke. "Detective, are you okay?" she asked loudly and hurried to him.

"Woah, Danny, take it easy man!" Bixler was next to him in a flash and – really, Danny? – when did those two have time to become best buds?

With Grace settled on her hips, her head slumped over her right shoulder, snoring softly, Kono watched – admittedly with some concern – as the big and creepy FBI agent slowly maneuvered Danny in their direction. He was more than a little wobbly on his feet and she could see that big creepy guy was fighting the urge to just throw him over his shoulder and carry him the rest of the way.

"Hey brah," Kono said in a whisper, careful to not interrupt Grace's well needed nap. "How you holding up?"

Danny just gave her a look as he plopped down into the passenger seat of the car with a groan. "Grace?" he asked, resting his head against the door frame.

"She's good. Sleeping like baby," Kono assured him and softly rubbed a hand over Grace's back.

"Good, that's good," Danny sighed and closed his eyes. "We got a lead, Chin's checking up on . . . something."

"Hi."

Swallowing hard, Kono looked up at Agent Bixler and scrunched up her face, acknowledging his presence with the most unpleasant smile she could manage. Then she turned her attention back to Danny, because even if he was in the process of passing out on her right now, she'd still pretend to have the most interesting conversation with him because there was just no way in hell she'd entertain big creepy guy until Chin was back.

"Hey Danny," she called softly, trying not to wake and alarm Grace but keeping Danny awake at the same time. "What kind of a lead?"

Two sleepy eyes (with blasted pupils) looked up at her. "Hm?"

"What's the lead?"

"Lead?"

Oh, come on, Williams. For a guy who's usually tough to shut up, he was leaving her hanging badly right now. "The lead Chin's checking? What is it?"

"Airfield," Danny managed to slur. "Some'ere off Kame…hame…ha."

"The new one near Kaaawa Valley?"

"Huh?"

"Danny," Kono said a little louder as his eyes slid shut again. "What airfield?"

"Chin's tryna fine'out."

"Hey Danny, come on, stay with me," Kono urged for purely selfish reasons as she glanced nervously in Bixler's direction.

"Jusss rest'n mah eyes." With that, he sagged back against the backrest of the passenger seat, legs still sticking out of the car's door. "Grace?"

"She's still good, brah," Kono told him again and put a reassuring hand on his right shoulder.

Danny wasn't looking so good and it wasn't entirely his swollen nose's fault. He was pale and sweaty and seemed generally pretty out of it. "Hey, Agent Bixler, could you please get one of the paramedics over here?" Kono asked with a smile, pleased with herself that she had found a way to get Danny some much needed help and get rid of Bixler at the same time. Two birds, one stone . . . she was just that good at killing stuff.

"Already here," announced Agent Lake, seemingly coming out of nowhere with a particularly cute paramedic in tow. "I took the liberty, since Detective Williams just puked his guts out back there," she explained, jerking a thumb into the direction of the squad car holding their five bad guys.

Just great how well these two FBI douche bags are working together.

While the paramedic checked Danny over again, Kono kept walking Grace in circles around the car, just to keep moving. She was afraid that if she'd stop, big creepy guy would start talking to her again. Normally, she'd just punch him out, alone for the way he was staring at her right now (and even though he was twice her size, she could totally take him) but just not right now; not with a sleeping Grace clinging to her, drooling on the back of her shirt.

"How's he doing?" she asked the paramedic as she came around the passenger side of the car again.

"'m fine."

Kono stopped and ducked to peek inside the car around the paramedic who was crouched down in front of Danny – and, damn, really kind of cute. Tall, local with dark, messy hair. Totally her kind of guy. "Good to see you awake, brah," she said with a huge, relieved smile to Danny.

"Never was 'sleep."

"Yeah, sure. So how's he really doing?"

The paramedic got back up and snapped the latex gloves of his hands, returning her smile. "Nauseous, dizzy, grumpy, but that's all to be expected with a concussion. The nose looks pretty bad but I don't think it's broken. He should still let us take him back to the ER and get it checked out properly."

"I'll try to convince him."

"He definitely needs some rest," the paramedic added and grabbed his equipment. "I'll get this stuff back to the bus," he said, holding up his bags. "Just holler if he changes his mind."

"Will do," Kono said, smiling again, because really, that was one handsome paramedic. "I'm Kono, by the way," she added, sticking out her hand from underneath Grace's bum while acrobatically supporting her weight with her arm instead.

"Pika," he said, awkwardly shaking her hand.

"Conrad."

. . .

Yeah. Maybe she could punch out Bixler with Grace draped over her shoulder after all. They were both about to find out.

"I got it!" Chin called, coming running towards them. "They're at a new airfield near Kaaawa Valley."

"What took you so long to come up with that one?" Kono asked, all thoughts of Bixler and even Pika wiped from her mind at the hope of being a good step closer to finding the boss.

"What do you mean?" Chin asked with a frown.

"Do you know any other airfields off Kamehameha?"

"I didn't even know about that one," Chin admitted with a shrug. "It's still in construction."

"I know. There's a huge debate going on about the effects an airfield might have on the animals indigenous to that area."

Chin just stared at her.

"When did you stop caring about the environment, cuz?"

"'s soon as you two are done debating this I'd like to get going and save Steve's idiotic ass."

They all – including Pika – stared at Danny as he hauled himself out of the car, swayed dangerously on wobbly legs and then almost toppled over. For once, Kono was glad Bixler stuck to her like glue because that meant he was close enough to firmly grab Danny's arm and shoulder and guide him to sit back down in the car.

"You're not going anywhere, brah," Chin said with a hint of a smile on his lips.

"Chin." Danny gave him a very serious look.

"Danny?"

"He's in this mess because of me," he argued with a tired sigh and Kono thought that, yeah, maybe they should just take him with them. They'd save themselves the debate and chances were pretty good he'd fall asleep in the car on their drive over there anyway.

"He's in this mess because he's Steve and doesn't know how to stay out of messes," Chin said and crouched down next to Danny. "I'm sorry to break this to you, brah, but in your condition you're a liability."

"Besides," Kono said, stepping up next to Chin, "someone needs to stay with Grace."

Danny looked up at her, raising his eyebrows.

". . . and I'm going with Chin," she added, answering the unspoken question.

Danny turned his head to the left, looking at Lake now with the same pleading expression on his messed up face.

It took Lake a second to realize what Danny was asking her. "Oh," she finally said, blinking at him. "Oh no, she . . . she totally hates me." Lake gestured towards Grace and smiled helplessly. It was the truth, though, Grace actually did kind of hate her (not that Kono would blame the little girl for it). When she had met up with Lake down in the pit after the exchange, Grace had been wailing miserably, refusing to let woman who had made her Uncle Steve go with the bad men touch her.

Heaving a sigh, Danny shrunk back into the car's seat. "Alright, go," he finally said, holding out his arms and Kono carefully set Grace down on his lap. "Just . . ."

"Don't worry, brah, will get him back," Chin said, slapping Danny's shoulder and standing back up.

Danny just nodded, closed his eyes and rested his cheek on Grace's head.

Looking at Danny and Grace for a moment – both exhausted and in dire need of some rest – Chin turned around to the FBI agents. "Mind if we take your car?"

"Let's go," Bixler said with a nod and he and Lake started hurrying over to their black SUV parked a few feet away.

Chin went to the back of his truck, grabbing their vests and weapons from the trunk.

"Hey Pika," Kono said, smiling at the paramedic who was still standing close by, the bags with his equipment still in his hands. "Could you do me a favor and make sure he doesn't do anything stupid," she said, gesturing towards Danny and Grace behind her. "Like trying to get up or anything."

Pika smiled back at her and nodded. "Sure thing."

"Thanks, I really appreciate it." She turned around to grab her gear from Chin's trunk.

"Hey Kono?" Pika called behind her.

"Yeah?"

"You sure you're not gonna need some backup?" he asked, holding up one of his bags.

Shaking her head, Kono smiled, trying not to think about the fact that – with McGarrett and his already concussed head involved – they probably would need some medical help. She almost managed to completely ignore the possibility that the boss might be well beyond needing medical help by now just as well. "It's too dangerous."

"I like dangerous."

Of course he does. Because he's flawless.

"We're gonna have an ambulance standing by anyway, so . . ."

"Right."

"But thanks for the offer."

"Sure."

Smiling, Kono turned back around to Chin who, apparently, had been watching her. He held out her vest and opened his mouth to make some stupid comment.

"Not a word," Kono growled. Staring at him, she grabbed her weapon from Chin's hand and chambered a bullet in order to press her point home. "Let's move," she ordered and they both jogged over to the SUV were Bixler and Lake waited for them.

He screamed.

And screamed.

Because there wasn't really a point in pretending it didn't hurt like fucking hell to have your fingers broken one by one. There was no point in putting up a tough front. He didn't need to convince Fuentes that the pain wasn't getting to him. On the contrary, he needed Fuentes to know that this shit hurt badly. That he was going to get the information he wanted soon . . . that there was no need to move on to more drastic measures of torture.

And besides, he was still trying to keep up the impression that he was Matt Williams, not a Navy SEAL who had been trained to compartmentalize the pain away. And, no offense to the guy, but Steve was pretty sure that Matty would have been screaming like a little bitch by now.

The only thing that made screaming out at the pain in his hand seem like a bad idea, was the fact that it fucking hurt to even draw in a normal breath, let alone suck in enough air for a full blown scream.

Before Fuentes had moved on to breaking the pinky and ring finger on his left hand, he had hit him. A lot. And hard. He had been working out his anger and frustration over the busted nose. And somewhere along the way, he must have managed to break the already cracked rib.

Oh yeah, judging by the way it hurt, he'd definitely broken it good. Probably cracked a few more in the process.

"Where is it?" Fuentes hissed. Again. At some point, Steve had stopped counting how many times the man had asked for that ominous flash drive by now.

"Go to hell," Steve panted through gritted teeth.

With a nod of his chin, Fuentes ordered the goon gripping Steve's left arm to raise it a little higher again. Steve struggled, again, against the man's hold, but the guy was strong and he himself was not exactly operating at a hundred percent right now.

Fuentes grabbed his middle finger and Steve grunted in pain as the man's hand jostled the already broken bones in his hand. "Tell me where it is."

Still panting, his chest heaving with every shallow breath, Steve just stared blankly ahead, trying to prepare himself for the imminent pain.

"You can end all this right now."

Steve just closed his eyes. Because he really couldn't. Granted, telling Fuentes who he really was would probably expedite his suffering . . . but knowing Fuentes – and yes, he was getting to know the guy pretty well here – he'd probably be too pissed to just put a bullet through his head.

Fuentes' grip on his finger tightened before he snapped it back, breaking it.

Steve screamed. Again.

"TELL ME WHERE IT IS!" The voice droned in Steve's already pounding head as he tried to get his breathing back under control.

But Fuentes didn't even give him any time to recover or answer the question. Pushing his goon away from Steve with a frustrated shove, he drew back his arm and punched Steve in the face again, hitting his jaw and making his head snap to the side. Steve almost didn't feel it, the pain his hand still too prominent in his brain, blocking out everything else.

He let his head hang, chin dropping to his chest. He coughed weakly and spat as blood and saliva began trickling down his throat. Fuck. Fuentes was getting impatient. He was so screwed. Even if only his right hand was still cuffed to the chair, his left one just wasn't much use right now.

Then, he heard an all too familiar clicking sound. Without lifting his head, Steve opened his eyes and glanced up to where Fuentes stood right in front of him, gun in his hand.

Shit.

-to be continued-