The song in this chapter was also used in chapter 24. I originally intended it to go here, long before I wrote most of the story. Also, for those who didn't know, the quote in the last chapter: "I don't do veiled" was from NCIS: Los Angeles' Sam Hanna, who has been said to know Steve.
Chapter Thirty-Six "Silence"
Joe came back to the Palace looking a little brighter than he had the night before. Danny was back from the airport having dropped Catherine, Mary, and Jack off at Steve's house. Chin and Kono had produced gallons of coffee from somewhere.
They all gathered around the smart table, and Joe input some information. "I put out some feelers last night, and I think I may have gotten something," he said. "I asked around some of the guys involved with the Victor Hesse case to see if they knew any possible hideouts on the island, and they gave me some."
"You think Wo Fat could be in one of these places?" Chin asked.
"Wo Fat, Steve, and JJ," Joe said.
"So how do we narrow it down?" Kono asked.
"He'd need a place far from people where no one could hear or see anything," Joe said. "That rules out these two." He moved some satellite photos out of the way on the smart board.
"Okay," Danny said, "it would probably be somewhere large enough to keep men and hostages."
"So not this one," Kono said, taking away another picture.
"And he likes to be underground," Chin said.
One image remained. An abandoned World War II bunker that technically still belonged to the U.S. Government. It was out of the city, near the road, but out of sight, and there were no houses or buildings within several miles.
"Do we have any recent satellite footage?" Danny asked.
"Now how would we come by that?" Joe asked.
"I don't know. You have a lot of friends."
Joe laughed. "None willing to risk court martial for some satellite footage. The old ones were all I could get."
"Wait," Kono said. "Take a look at this." She enhanced the picture on the screen bit by bit until it was clearer what they were seeing. "There are two guys right there." She pointed to the figures standing next to an expensive car."
"That's them," Chin said with absolute certainty. "That's Victor Hesse and Wo Fat."
"I've seen enough," Danny said. "Let's go."
"We need a plan," Joe said.
"Plan? I'll give you a plan. Chin, get over to HPD and get all the backup you can find, SWAT, everything. Kono, start mapping out our approach. Joe, make sure we have EMS standing by. That a good enough plan?"
"Sounds good to me," Chin said, heading for the door.
Kono started working on the topography, and Joe went to make some calls. Danny watched everyone go, and realized that he had one thing to do before going into the lion's den.
He got in his car and headed back to Steve's house. As he went, he found himself talking.
"Come on, Steve," he said. "Hang on a little longer."
H-5-O
Catherine discovered all of her things had been moved to Steve's house in her brief absence. She wondered if he had slept at all since she left. Of course he didn't.
Standing in the upstairs family room, Catherine stared at the newly repaired door. The new wood didn't matched that of the aged sections next to it, and the glass was a little too smooth. Evidence of what happened. A reminder.
It was hard to believe it had only been a few days since the night those two men broke into the house. Catherine still wasn't sure why. Steve talked to her about his life, but he protected her from a lot of it. He didn't want her to worry. He didn't want to pollute what he saw as the good parts of his life. Catherine understood that, but Steve was one of the good parts of her life and when he was in trouble, she wanted to be right there with him.
When Danny showed up to tell them their plan to rescue Steve and Johnny, Catherine saw her opening.
"I'm coming with you," she said.
Before Danny could protest, Mary Ann interrupted her. "Hang on, sister," she said. "What the hell are you thinking?"
Catherine was glad that Jack was taking a nap and didn't have to hear this argument. "I'm thinking that Steve is in trouble, and I can help," she said. "I have to help. I've just been sitting around doing nothing this whole time."
"I don't consider shooting an intruder 'nothing'," Danny said, though he didn't really sound like he was arguing.
"Are you seriously gonna let her do this?" Mary asked.
"I don't think I could prevent her from doing anything. She's like Steve that way."
"Yeah." Mary crossed her arms and looked at Catherine. "Fine, but if you get yourself killed, you are so dead."
Catherine smiled softly and hugged Mary. "Thank you," she said. "Keep Jack safe for me."
"I won't let anyone touch him," Mary promised.
Catherine dashed upstairs to retrieve a weapon. When she got back, Danny was ready to leave, and Mary was looking like a mix of exasperation and resignation.
H-5-O
Steve felt himself drifting in and out of a fog. He needed to stay awake, but his body wasn't cooperating. He felt cold and tired. Johnny sat near him on the floor as if afraid of what would happen if he turned his back for one second. And instead of annoying him, the attention actually made Steve feel good.
Or not as bad as he should have been feeling.
The concrete floor was damp and incredibly uncomfortable. That was nothing new. This wasn't really that bad compared to a lot of things Steve had been through, but the fact that his brother was there with him made it exponentially worse.
It was more about the anticipation than anything. Steve dreaded breaking his personal record of never cracking under pressure, but he knew that if Wo Fat threatened Johnny, he wouldn't hesitate to tell him what Joe had said in the cemetery that day. Or at least something that resembled what Joe had said.
"Hey," Johnny said, breaking the silence. "You okay?"
"Yeah," Steve said, not moving more than his mouth to form the word. He felt Johnny's hand on his arm.
"You're warm," he said. "Do you think it's infected?"
It. Johnny hadn't say anything about Steve's gunshot wound after he had cauterized it. Steve understood.
"Maybe," he said.
Steve heard Johnny sigh and rub his hands over his face. "Is there anything I can do?" he asked.
Steve thought for a second. "Sing something," he said. "Distract me."
Johnny seemed surprised by the request, but he complied, singing the chorus from some song he'd written when he was a kid. Steve was surprised he remembered it. It was silly and pointless, but it helped.
"Well," Johnny said when he'd finished. "If we make it out of here alive, I might just die of embarrassment."
Steve tried not to laugh. "What?" he said. "It's nothing I haven't heard before."
"I guess so."
"Jack told me you wrote a song for him."
There was a long pause. "Yeah, I did," Johnny said.
"Can I hear it?"
There was another, longer pause. Steve thought Johnny might not. Then he started singing again very quietly, but with no other sounds in the room, every word rang out clear.
"Little Jack
Is playin' in the sand
He's askin' questions that
He shouldn't even have"
Johnny's voice was halting, as if he didn't want Steve to know his thoughts on his nephew. The second verse was even slower.
"Little Jack
Is clamin' promises
I never thought I'd say
That I'd do that
But I can't resist you
Little Jack"
Then something seemed to shift, and Johnny sang with the full power of his voice.
"I had almost forgotten
How to believe in innocence
How to believe that things make sense
I had just about given up
And that's when you showed up
Little Jack"
Johnny's voice got quiet again, though that was probably a musical choice more than anything.
"Little Jack
Feels like he's on his own
He's missin' Mom and Dad
And the life he wished he had"
As the ending came, Johnny sang as if he hadn't been a cappella all along and now he was.
"Little Jack
Don't you lose your faith
Keep believin'
Don't stop dreamin'
And you'll find your way
Oh, you'll find your way
Little Jack"
Steve was quiet, but he was still listening. His eyes searched the ceiling, and his breath was coming faster now. Johnny probably didn't expect him to say anything, but Steve did.
"It's not just about Jack," he said. "It's about you too."
Steve heard Johnny nodding. "You know," he said. "Jackie means 'little Jack.' A diminutive of a diminutive. It's about both of us, I guess. The things we have in common."
"A lot more than I realized," Steve said, with a hint of regret in his voice. "I hate that he has to deal with those thing. That you did."
"It's not your fault," Johnny said. "I think it's about time we both accepted that."
There was a noise at the door, and the brothers turned to look. Wo Fat came in, looking calm, but Steve could sense something was off.
"I happen to disagree," he said. "You have no one to blame for this but yourself, McGarrett." He pulled out his gun and pointed it at Johnny's head. Johnny reflexively stood up. "Now, this is all over," he said. "I'm going to give you one more chance to answer my question."
Steve let out a shaky breath. He didn't have a choice now. But he would get Wo Fat to answer his question.
"I'll tell you," he said. "But first I wanna hear you say it. Why do you want Shelburne so bad."
Wo Fat didn't answer. Instead he put another bullet right next to the first one. Johnny shouted, but Steve didn't make a sound. He felt blood begin to pool under him. This wasn't good.
"It's because he killed your father!" Steve said. "Isn't it?"
There was no answer.
"I know who killed your father. Will that make you happy?"
Wo Fat moved the gun back to Johnny. "Who is Shelburne," he repeated.
"It's not a person," Steve said. He felt Wo Fat's surprise. "It was an alias to distract you while my father investigated you and Governor Jameson. It died with him."
Steve couldn't see much from his position on the floor, but he could sense Wo Fat's eyes widening. "You're lying," he said. Another bullet.
This time Steve groaned. He felt more blood begin to spill out of him. He wouldn't last long like this.
"I'm not... lying," Steve said. His breathing was turning shallow. "Joe White told me about it. That's all I know."
That was the fatal mistake. The belief that Joe had the answers Wo Fat so desperately wanted rendered Steve useless. The gun went off three, maybe four more times.
But instead of ensuing silence, Steve heard movement, struggle, another shot at close range. Then a succession of fire until the sound of an empty clip echoed in the small room.
Then silence.