Sorry about the delay. Life can be pretty hectic sometimes.
Once again thanks a lot for every fav and follow, and especially for the reviews.
Four minutes late.
Kono shuffled nervously on the ground. "It's taking too long," she whispered to Lou next to her. "They should've been out by now."
They had chosen a spot in the shadows across the street as their vantage point and waited. All the noise coming from the inside of the safehouse had died out about ten minutes ago and the silence along with the delay worried her.
"I think we have a bigger problem," Lou replied, gesturing toward the road.
Three SUVs full of armed men were pulling out right in front of the safehouse.
"We have to warn the guys."
Lou whistled. It was loud, and Kono hoped it wouldn't be heard by the men in the cars and draw their attention to them. Luckily, it went unnoticed, their focus obviously somewhere else.
The men didn't lose any time. They jumped out of the cars and unleashed an avalanche of gunfire at the building. When the glass of the window shattered into pieces, Kono saw the movement inside, and soon enough, the gunfire came back at the attackers, providing at least small relief.
The bullets were flying everywhere and the deafening sound of gunfire and smell of cordite filled the air. She could see the dust and rock shards kicking up all around the building. And just like the situation wasn't bad enough, three more cars full of armed men rushed down the street and screeched to a stop at the other side of the building.
Lou and Kono opened fire straight at the new arrivals, picking them off one by one as they moved in on the safehouse from the back. Trouble was, there were too many and it didn't seem to matter how many they killed, there were still a lot of them.
The fire never slackened for a few seconds. They had sustained, nonstop, that aggressive volley, the one they've started as soon as they got out of the vehicles. They had blasted away at the team in the building, as well as the direction where Lou and Kono took cover.
She readjusted her aim, searching for her next target. And then she saw him. One of the men swapped his rifle for a heavy missile weapon and propelled it on his shoulder, ready to fire. She took aim. Steadied herself. Pulled a trigger.
Half a second too late.
Just as the dead man's weight hit the ground, a shattering blast boomed through the air. The ground shook and swayed. A shockwave of air smacked into the side of her, almost rolling her over. It nearly knocked Lou off his feet. Dust and grit clouded the air all around her, filling her mouth and eyes.
She was shaken. Her ears were ringing with a high-pitched whine. Her eyes were blurred from the grit. She lay there, shocked, wiping at her eyes, slowly realizing what had just happened. The attackers began to move in, their rifles high and ready, but no more gunfire came from the inside of what was left of the building.
"No," she whispered in disbelief. Her heart skipped a beat, and she stared at the cloud of dust with mouth gaping, hoping Chin, Danny, and others would just come out and keep fighting. Wishing she'd hear or see any sign that they were still alive. But the seconds passed in agonizing fashion and there was nothing.
She glanced up to her colleague. Just like hers, Lou's eyes were widened in surprise and disbelief. The cloud of dust began to disperse, leaving behind a dirty haze. Still rubbing at her eyes, trying to remove the grit, she turned back to the safehouse. The thick plumes of black smoke towered into the night sky. Shards of wood and glass were hanging from the stricken structure. Some debris was still falling to the ground where a crumpled heap of bricks and what used to be the safe house lay.
"Come on." Lou's voice shook her back to reality. His gaze was fixed on the smoking building. "Come on, boys," he repeated, louder, more desperate this time.
But no one showed up. No one fired a gun.
By the time her brain fully processed what had happened, there were none of the hostile men out there. They all disappeared inside the ruin of the safehouse. And just the thought of those men in there with her wounded friends made her sick.
"Lou?" Her voice was shaking.
"We have to go in there," he said, as if reading her thoughts.
She gave him a nod, and with panic filling her lungs, she stood up and sprinted forward, rifle ready in her hands. But then she saw a movement and Lou must've noticed too because they both came to a stop and crouched down to stay hidden out of the enemy's sight. Two men appeared in the doorway - or what used to be one. Dragging the third one behind them by his arms. The man in the middle seemed barely conscious and didn't put up much of a fight as his feet were dragged across the dirt by two armed men.
"Is that-?" Lou began, squinting in the darkness.
"Danny," Kono breathed out, a wave of heat washing over her as dread gripped her even further. "They have Danny."
Lou was back up on his feet in a second. "The only way they're gonna get any more of my friends is over my dead body," he said and gave Kono a quick look.
The look in his eyes mirrored her own feelings. The determination. The fear. The anger. All of it. And she only had a second before Lou turned around and sprinted off across the street.
Without losing any more time, she dropped back to the ground, never leaving her friends out of the sight. Danny was the priority, though, because those men were about to force him into one of the SUVs. She steadied her breath, slowly raised her sniper rifle, and found one of them in the scope. Her first shot killed the one on the right almost instantly, and she watched him tumble on the ground.
The second one, understanding now there was an enemy hidden from his sight, shouted out something, let go of Danny, raised his rifle, and scanned the area where Kono was still flat on her belly. She hit him square in the chest, then she fired a second time in case he was still breathing. He fell forward without a sound and joined his buddy on the ground.
Lou was just on the way to the blonde man lay dazed in the dirt beside two dead bodies, when the other two men emerged from the building and aimed their weapons in Lou's direction. The shout of their buddy must've gotten their attention and draw them out.
Before they had a chance to do anything, Lou opened fire and Kono readjusted her aim, determined not to let any of their team-mates die out here. She couldn't let the fear for her friends get in the way. What she could do, though, was press on and hope everyone had survived the blast of an RPG.
So she glanced through the scope of her weapon and picked another target.
Once again shoved onto the floor in his tiny cell, Steve threw the guards an angry glare before they locked the door behind him, leaving him alone with his thoughts. He waited until he could no longer hear the guards, then he huddled up in the corner, propping himself up against the walls to help him remain upright. The ache in his chest with every breath suggested a broken rib or two, and even though he just wanted to lay down and enjoy a moment of being left alone, he knew it wouldn't help to ease the pain in his chest. It wasn't too bad at the moment, as the pain meds were still working and dulled out the worst of it, but he knew that would change soon.
"Hey, McGarrett?" Richardson's voice carried over from the cell next door. "You good? You scared us, buddy. Thought it's just me and Lynch here now."
Steve sighed in relief at the sound of his voice. At least they were both alive. As long as that was the case, there was still a chance they'd make it back home. "Nah," he replied. "I'm fine. They need to try harder if they wanna get rid of me."
"I bet. You're a hell of a tough nut to crack. But I don't think they want to kill us."
"They'd be dumb if they did," Steve confirmed. "They know who we are. What we know. Even if they won't get anything out of us, we're still their ticket to money, and I'm pretty sure they know that." The truth was, Steve didn't even want to think about all the possible ways their captors could use them to earn some big cash. But the scenarios were unfolding in front of his eyes anyway.
Any captured soldier was a security threat to his country. Let alone an ex-SEAL and two still active operators. They could try and get the intel out of them, but it'd never work. They could, however, keep their confinement secret and sell them off to a terrorist group or insurgents in the area, or out of the country, to try and do the same. Or even worse, they could release the information about their capture into US media and demand ransom, in which case they wouldn't be the only ones in trouble, because this op wasn't meant to exist and none of them were supposed to be here. If it got out, the consequences could be terrible. He shuddered at the thought.
"Yeah, I know. But we ain't gonna stick around for that, are we? I'm telling you, I'm gonna sleep in my bed real soon. I'm pretty fed up with the services at this lovely hotel. Especially the room service sucks. You order a cheeseburger and get some weird, tasteless gruel once in a while. They even keep forgetting the cutlery, can you believe it? And don't even get me started on a bathroom."
Steve chuckled to himself. It was good to know that despite everything, Richardson still had his spirit and will to fight. Lynch, on the other side, was suspiciously quiet. "Lynch, what about you? You all right?" he called out.
When there was no answer for a couple of seconds, Richardson spoke once again, "I guess he's asleep. He got pretty worked up by the guards yesterday after expressing some opinions out loud."
"That's bullshit, don't listen to him." Lynch's voice was weak and pain-riddled. It made Steve's blood boil in his veins. "I'm right as rain. My little sister hits better than those bastards. It's you who had me worried, McGarrett. You've been gone for days. You've been enjoying the stay, huh? I bet you showed the fuckers their place."
"Just had my legs fixed, that's all," he lied, unconsciously glancing down at the ravaged fingers on his hands and dried blood on his skin and dirty clothes. There was no doubt they wouldn't buy it, but to his relief, they didn't call his bluff.
They talked for a while longer, but neither of them said a word about the interrogation nor beating and torture. Yet Steve just knew Lynch and Richardson didn't escape the same treatment he had received. Neither of the men complained, though. Not that Steve expected them to. Both of them were still young, and trained to handle these things just like he was.
The chatter had died out after a while, and the cells succumbed to silence. It didn't take long after that for Steve's exhaustion to take place and pull him away from reality.
He must've slept for hours because when he woke up, any traces of pain medication were gone. He was startled fully awake to the terrible pain. His whole body ached, head to toe, but the worst were his limbs. Every small movement of his fingers was a new level of pain and both legs throbbed with sharp stabbing jabs and it made him involuntarily groan in agony. He sat there for only a few moments hurting, wondering how he would get them all out of this hellhole, when two guards entered the corridor and made their way to the cell next to his, completely ignoring him.
A key clicked in the lock and he could hear the metal door open. He shuffled closer to the bars to get a better look at what was happening, even though he feared he knew already. His fears were confirmed just seconds later, when Richardson's sleepy voice echoed from there.
"What the… let go of me, motherfuckers!"
It was followed by a muffled grunt and sounds of struggles along with guards' angry shouts. And soon enough, Steve could see them out in the corridor with his bound and blindfolded friend in the middle. He watched in horror as Richardson, as weak as he was, kept fighting them with all he had, to no avail.
"Hey! Leave him alone!" Steve shouted, but no one seemed to pay attention. "You hear me? Leave him. You can take me instead."
But they either didn't understand or didn't care. Probably both.
"Rick!" Lynch called out and the desperation in his voice just about broke Steve's heart. "No."
Steve had known these men for no longer than a couple of weeks, but even a blind person would see the two were the best buddies. Probably had been for a long time. And Steve couldn't imagine how painful it must've been for Lynch to watch helplessly as his best friend was dragged away like this by the enemy, knowing all too well he was probably about to be tortured for the information he either didn't have or couldn't give.
He sat there, watching as one of his men was taken out and led away to be questioned. Knowing he wouldn't speak brought Steve little relief, because he got a first-hand experience of what would happen if he stood his ground and didn't spill the beans. He didn't wish that on anyone, let alone the men under his command.
The door closed behind them and Steve glared at the empty hall, guilt eating up on him. It was his fault they were in this situation, and there was nothing he could do to help either of his men.
Lynch remained quiet, but Steve imagined him pacing the tiny cell like a caged tiger, trying to figure out how to get out and help Richardson.
"He'll be all right," Steve said after a few minutes of tense silence. "We'll all be all right. I promise." It was yet another promise he wasn't sure he could keep, but he was determined to do anything it took to keep it. Anything to get the rest of his team home to their families.
He thought Lynch wouldn't say anything, but after a few seconds, his voice came, determination and anger radiating from every word he'd said. "If knocked down, I will get back up, every time. I will draw on every remaining ounce of strength to protect my teammates and to accomplish our mission."
A warm feeling spread through Steve's chest with the words of the SEAL ethos he'd once learned, held dear, and never forgotten. "Never out of the fight," he finished.
"Never out of the fight," Lynch repeated. "Those fuckers will be sorry for messing up with the wrong guys."
Steve couldn't agree more.
It took Danny's dazed mind a few long moments before he figured out why those men had let go of him so suddenly and let him crumple to the ground. It was when Lou reached him, his face serious and lips moving fast, he realized he was free thanks to Kono and Lou. The ringing in his ears began to subside and some of the sounds faded back into his world.
Gunfire. Shouting. Lou's voice.
It all seemed like a distant dream. But when Lou dragged him a few feet behind the car, helped him sit up and rest his back against the metal, he caught a glance of the ruined building, and that shook him back into reality.
The RPG. Joe unconscious. No one else in sight.
He was about to sand up, but pain racked his whole body and forced him back on the ground.
"You stay down," Lou shouted, gently pushing him out of the trajectory of the bullets with his hand. Then the older man peeked from behind their cover and returned fire at someone Danny couldn't see.
"Lou," he croaked. "They need help inside."
"I know," Lou said and fired his weapon again.
There were bullets flying everywhere, pinging and zinging into the ground all around him, ricochetting off the rocks in the dirt, slamming into the metals of the car.
But Danny realized the shouts he could hear weren't in English, and sounded a little panicked. He managed to steal a quick glance at the building and what he saw relieved at least some of the tension. Lou wasn't the only one fighting those men. There was a sound of a fight inside as well, which could only mean the survivors. How many, he didn't have a clue.
He couldn't just sit around and wait, though. He had to do something. He didn't have his rifle, but a dead man's AK-47 lay just a few yards away. If he was fast enough, he could make it there before getting shot.
But just when he bit back the pain and began to get on his feet, the gunfire had finally ceased.
Lou stepped to the side and reached for the rifle on the ground, then passed it to Danny. "Kono got eyes on you. Stay here, I'm going in," he said and rushed off.
There was no way Danny would stay behind, though. He scrambled up to his feet, groaning in pain that flared in his limbs and back. And step by step, he shuffled inside, the rifle up in case there was still someone left.
The first person he could see in the cloud of dust was Gutch. His entire face was black with dust. The man had a few scratches here and there, but didn't seem to be seriously injured. Chin appeared behind him just a second later, out of breath, clutching onto his bicep with blood seeping through the sleeve of his t-shirt.
"You got hit?" Danny asked, his eyes widening.
"No. I'll be fine," his colleague assured him. "It's just a scratch."
Martinez showed up in Danny's field of vision just a second later. A deep, bloody line dragged across his cheek. "Everybody all right?" he asked, looking around.
"I could use some help over here," Joe's voice came from the back of the room.
Danny rushed toward him and his jaw dropped when he took in the picture. Joe, half of his face covered in blood from the gash on his forehead, was kneeling on the floor, bending over Davis, who lay in a small puddle of his own blood. Davis's face was ashen and his breathing seemed off. Joe had a piece of cloth pressed against Davis' chest, right under his right collarbone.
All the color drained from Martinez's face as he dropped to his knees next to his bleeding friend and joined Joe's attempts to stop the bleeding from the gunshot wound. He was ushering comforting words to the barely conscious man, promising him he'd be all right. Seeing them like that had sent chills down Danny's spine. It brought back too many unwanted memories.
"We need to move before the reinforcements show up," Gutch said as soon as Joe and Martinez wrapped up Davis' wound.
Martinez and Joe reached Davis together, hoisted him up, and followed Gutch outside, with Danny, Lou, and Chin trailing right behind them.
"So glad to see you, guys," Kono said as she joined them outside. She squinted at them in the darkness, a confused look on her face. "What about the boys? Where are they?"
Danny's chest tightened. He wished he knew the answer. "Not here." It was all he managed to say as he moved as quickly as his aching body allowed him.
As they made their way through the dark streets, Danny's mind went to his best friend. To his dog tags in that man's pocket. To the fact he had no idea where or in what condition Steve was. But one thing he was sure of. He wasn't leaving this hellhole until he had his friend back.
*to be continued*
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