CHAPTER 11

Saturday morning, McGarrett residence:

"Remind me again why we are searching through our boss' house?" Kono asked as she poked her head out from under the bed in Steve's room.

"Because we are looking for the evidence John kept against Vivaldi," Chin said patiently. It was only the third time he had explained it to his cousin.

"This feels so wrong," Kono muttered as she stood up and went over to the closet and started rummaging through it.

Chin found he couldn't disagree. While this house belonged to his current boss and friend, he had several fond memories of the place from when he was John's partner. Evening meals with Doris and John, occasionally Steve and Mary too, if they weren't busy with extracurricular activities or homework. Beers on the chairs out back with John after his father had passed.

It felt weird to be going through every inch of the house, not knowing exactly what they were looking for or if they'd even find anything. It felt like they were invading not just Steve's privacy, but the entire McGarrett family's.

The house looked the same as it had before John had died. Chin doubted that Steve had changed it much since moving back to the islands. In fact, as he looked at the photos on the dresser, there was only one new addition. It was a photo of the Five-0 team from Christmas. It was just after Hesse had tried to blow his head off with a bomb. Chin smiled when he saw everyone's festive grins shining back at him. If it hadn't been for the actions of the people he now called family, that photo would never have been taken.

It felt…good to have a group of people he could rely on. It had been a while since he had had something like a family. That's exactly what Five-0 was; a family. They didn't care that he had been accused of taking payoffs. Instead, they overlooked that and only saw the good in him. That made Chin feel awfully warm inside. He had finally found his place, and it was with Five-0.

Shaking himself, Chin got back down to the task at hand. He was starting to question whether his hunch was correct. It felt like they were wasting time, time Steve didn't have. Chin wondered what was happening to Steve right now. When his imagination provided unwanted images, he quickly shut it down and walked out of the room with a huff of frustration.

He made his way downstairs and into John McGarrett's study. He noticed there were still some holes in the walls from the General Pak incident. Chin shook his head. That had been two months ago. He would have expected that to have been repaired by now. He made a mental note to help Steve with the repairs.

He sat down at the desk and tried to put himself in John's shoes. If he had just been given some extremely important evidence, where would he hide it? The first thing that came to his head was the Champ Box, which had primarily evidence relating to John's wife's murder.

"Hey, Chin?" Kono's voice came from upstairs.

Chin pushed back from the desk and took the stairs two at a time until he reached the landing. He walked into John's old room and found Kono kneeling on the ground with her head inside the closet.

"Kono?" Chin asked.

"I think I found something," came Kono's muffled reply.

Chin kneeled down next to her and was surprised to find she had cut a hole in the floor of the wardrobe. What surprised him even more was the single, white envelope inside said hole. Chin reached in and grabbed it.

Chin turned it over in his hand and saw his name written in John McGarrett's untidy scrawl. Chin glanced at Kono, who shrugged and motioned for him to open it. Carefully, Chin used his pocket knife to create a slit in the paper and he pulled out a folded piece of paper.

Carefully, he unfolded it and a small, metallic object fell out. It was a small key, the kind one would use on a small padlock…or a post office box!

Chin eagerly scanned the note in his hand.

Dear Chin Ho Kelly,

I'm sorry I couldn't tell you this in person. I didn't want you to get involved. A few days ago, Gavin Webster came to me and gave me this key. He said that it was very important and had to be kept safe, no matter what happened. Apparently, this key opens a PO box in New Jersey and it contains all evidence of the crimes committed by Roberto Vivaldi, head of the Galinto crime family.

Gavin told me that he and his wife were recruited by Vivaldi to run drugs. They tried to get out of it, but Vivialdi threatened their families. They were able to take this key, but feared for their lives. So they came to Hawaii to try and get away. I suspect they are now dead, given I can't get in contact with them any more.

I kept this key, waiting for a time when the evidence would be most crucial. If you found this, it means that time has come. I hope you can send the bastard to hell with whatever you find in the box.

Good luck,

John McGarrett

Chin looked up at Kono after having read the message. It felt so surreal, almost like something a spy would do.

"We need to find where this key goes," Chin said as he climbed up from the floor.

"Chin, wait," Kono said, following after him. "What about Steve?"

"Steve would want us to put this guy away. For good," Chin said. He grabbed the key from Kono and waved it in front of her face. "This is how we do it."

Saturday morning, Five-0 Headquarters:

Chin and Kono walked into Five-0 headquarters half an hour later, ready to give Danny the good news. They stopped short when they saw Agent Weir talking to Danny in his office. Maybe talking wasn't the right word. Heated argument was more accurate, given the way Danny's face was turning red.

The pair emerged from Danny's office, oblivious to Chin and Kono's presence as they continued their argument.

"—We'll get this bastard, but we are not sacrificing anybody to do it!" Danny growled at Weir.

"I'm not asking you to! I'm just asking you to think about the people that will suffer if we don't do it this way," Weir argued.

"What happens when your plan doesn't work, huh?" Danny yelled.

"Believe me when I say that I want to get Vivaldi and shut him down for good. I want to help the Commander as best I can," Weir said. "This will help us accomplish both goals."

Something Weir said struck a nerve. "Are you suggesting that the FBI doesn't view both the same?"

Weir sighed. "I'm saying that rescuing Commander McGarrett is of the upmost importance. But taking down the head of the Galinto crime family has been the goal of the FBI for the last three years. We can't let this opportunity go."

"So, you want us to tell Vivaldi that we have what he wants, which, by the way, we have no idea what that is and then you want us to arrange an exchange in the hopes of drawing Vivaldi out?" Danny reiterated.

"Yes," Weir said without hesitation. "So we can follow the leads we have on Vivaldi's potential whereabouts."

Vivaldi, not McGarrett. Danny did not miss the emphasis on Vivaldi's name.

"So what happens when Vivaldi decides to kill Steve before the trade?" Danny asked angrily. "Is that an acceptable loss?"

"Look," Weir said tersely. "This will draw Vivaldi out so we can get McGarrett. We are not sacrificing anybody, especially not Commander McGarrett."

For some reason, Danny didn't believe him. He looked into Weir's eyes, pleased to note they were black and blue thanks to the hit he had received from Kuznetov the previous afternoon. Danny wished he was the one that caused the other man pain, but he would take what he could get for the time being.

"It's your fault we are even in this position. If you had done your job, we wouldn't even be standing here, having this pointless conversation. Follow whatever leads you have, but don't even think about trying anything without our knowledge," Danny said.

Weir nodded. "Understood. Just remember, we are on the same side here."

Danny glared at Agent Weir's retreating back. He turned to face the cousin's, his face still red with anger.

"You really don't trust him, do you?" Chin asked.

Danny sighed, his face starting to return to its normal colour. "I believe he wants to get Steve back and that the FBI will do everything they can to make that happen. I just don't think Steve is their priority."

"Well, on another note, Kono and I think we found what Vivaldi was after," Chin said.

Chin passed Danny the note and the key. Chin watched the emotions on Danny's face as his eyes followed the words on the page.

"Holy…" Danny muttered. "You were right, Chin."

"Yeah…" Chin trailed off, not sure if he should be pleased with himself or not.

"What was Weir talking about, the leads on Vivaldi's location?" Kono asked.

"Oh, he said they had narrowed down a few locations that Vivaldi could be, based on some suspicious activity. He wanted us to call Vivaldi, tell him we wanted to make the trade, so they could assess whether they had the correct locations. I told him no, that it was too risky," Danny supplied.

"Did he say anything about where these locations might be?" Kono asked.

Danny inspected the key in his hand. "Something about being up on the trails, that there was activity in some secluded areas."

Kono's eyes lit up. She rushed back to the smart table and started typing furiously on the surface.

Danny looked at Chin. "Was it something I said?"

Chin shrugged. "Probably."

"Chin!" Kono called.

Chin walked over to where Kono was. She had the ransom photo up on the screen, but had zoomed in on an area in the background.

"Does that look familiar to you?" Kono asked her cousin.

Chin squinted at the area she was pointing to. There was something familiar about it. It looked like graffiti, its bright colours standing out against the bleak concrete walls.

"Kind of," Chin muttered as he searched his brain for where he had seen it before.

"Do you remember about a year ago when we went hiking and came across that mysterious bunker on Koolau mountain? It wasn't recorded on any map," Kono asked.

Chin thought for a moment and then it clicked. "Yeah. We found that room with the weird graffiti in it."

Kono pointed to the colourful image from the top right corner of the ransom photo. It matched with what Chin remembered from the bunker.

"You don't think…?" Chin asked.

"That Steve's there?" Kono finished for Chin. "Yeah, I do."

Saturday morning, unknown location:

The footsteps kept coming closer until they stopped ominously in front of the door. Steve stopped trying to break the ties, for which his bullet wound was thankful. His wrists were sore and raw. He was sure he had broken the skin on his left wrist. It felt slick, but he wasn't sure if that was from blood or sweat. Probably a combination of the two.

He briefly pondered who had been shot, before realising it probably didn't matter. His situation was dire, no matter who was on the other side of the door. Steve wondered if he had pushed Vivaldi too hard and made things harder for himself.

Before he could come to that conclusion, the door opened slowly. The ominous shriek of the door was drawn out as it opened, as though it was taunting him. Steve tensed as someone walked leisurely into the room.

"I really should thank you, Commander McGarrett," the person said.

Steve almost groaned out loud. That voice had been the only one he had to listen to for the last couple of days.

"I made a mistake thinking I could trust my own flesh and blood. Matteo, it turns out, wasn't exactly made for the family business. He was trying to have me overthrown. I couldn't have that."

Vivaldi was calm as he spoke. It was as though he hadn't just killed a man. His own son, no less.

'Holy crap!' Steve thought. 'He just murdered his own son!'

"I should have seen through his act. He was never a very good liar, especially when he was a young boy. I gave him an opportunity, and he abused the power of leadership. At least, now I know where his loyalty lies. Or should I say, laid? It doesn't really matter anymore," Vivaldi monologued.

"But I still have a problem…" Vivaldi paused.

Steve waited for Vivaldi to finish his sentence. He knew, deep down, that whatever came out of the man's mouth next would not be any good.

Suddenly, the hood was ripped from his head. Steve blinked furiously in the darkness. Although the room was dark, it was brighter than the confines of the cloth covering his face. His eyes watered as his pupils attempted to adjust to the sudden change in ambient light.

Squinting, Steve saw there was a figure standing in front of him. It was blurry, but he could make out basic features, such as arms and legs. Sensory deprivation could screw anyone up over a prolonged period of time. It would take him a while to adjust to any form of light.

"Your man Kelly has, so far, been unable to find the key. I wonder if I should provide him with some more incentive?"

Yeah, Steve really didn't like how this was going.

"Since this is not his fault, at least not directly, I will spare him some personal burdens. However, since your father decided it was a good idea to cross me, how about I bring your sister here and ask her about it?"

"Don't you touch her!" Steve growled.

The figure started to come into focus the more Steve's eyes adjusted. The sharper the image became, the more anger started coursing through his body. Steve had seen that face many times in photographs and surveillance videos while working with Weir. To be face to face with the man responsible for so many deaths, so many families ripped apart and destroyed, made his blood boil.

Roberto Vivaldi had the audacity to laugh at his captive. Little did he know of the fury within Steve given the calm facade he was displaying.

Vivaldi took a few steps closer to Steve, a maniacal grin on his face. That was the opening Steve needed. Without warning, Steve yanked on the ties restraining his limbs, hard. He felt them all break, which he honestly hadn't expected, but was thankful for nonetheless.

Steve's sudden movement distracted Vivaldi, giving Steve a chance to get in a punch to the left side of Vivaldi's face. Vivaldi staggered back in surprise, clutching his jaw with his hand. He removed his hand and worked his jaw before smiling at Steve. The smile did not reach his cold, hard eyes.

With a feral growl, Vivaldi launched himself at Steve. Steve side-stepped him and spun on the spot, delivering an elbow blow to Vivaldi's back. The blow nearly sent Vivaldi to the floor, but he managed to regain his balance before he toppled over. He quickly turned to face Steve again, his face full of hatred.

The distant sound of gunshots distracted both men for a moment. Steve, against his better judgement, turned slightly to see if it was friendly fire. That was a mistake. Vivaldi had used the moment of inattention to cover the distance between them and tackle Steve to the ground.

All the air rushed out of Steve's lungs as he hit the unforgiving ground with Vivaldi on top of him. Before Steve had a chance to get his bearings again, Vivaldi delivered two punches to his injured shoulder. Steve groaned as fiery pain ignited in his left shoulder, more severe than ever before. Vivaldi showed no mercy as he delivered hit after hit to Steve's face and abdomen. Steve's vision whited out when he felt a crack after a particularly harsh punch to the chest.

Steve was quickly running out of energy and options. Vivaldi had straddled him and didn't look like he would stop his assault anytime soon. Gathering the last of his remaining energy, Steve managed to get a knee under Vivaldi and use it to lever the man off of him. Steve quickly rolled to the side, using his momentum to get himself into a standing position.

Vivaldi was already standing by the time Steve was steady on his feet. He lunged at Steve, who ducked and used his leg to kick out at Vivaldi's left knee. Vivaldi hit the ground with a loud thud as his leg collapsed, which Steve could admit greatly satisfied him.

Steve went to Vivaldi's prone body, ready to take him out, once and for all. Vivaldi struggled into a kneeling position. Steve saw the moment when Vivaldi realised he had met his match. The look of fear in the other man's eyes invigorated Steve and spurred him on.

The sound of gunfire resumed again, this time much closer. Before Steve had a chance to grab him, Vivaldi took off out of the room. How the man was able to move so fast with a busted knee was a question that would have to be answered at a later time. Steve took off in pursuit.

Steve ignored the thumping in his head, shoulder and chest as his feet pounded on the concrete, the sound echoing off the walls as he pursued Vivaldi through the bowels of the bunker. Distantly, he thought he heard someone calling his name, but ignored it in favour of chasing a murderer. He concentrated on evening out his breathing as he ran.

Just ahead of him, Vivaldi was about to exit the bunker. Light was steaming in from the tunnel-like exit. Steve put on a burst of speed as he also exited. He did not expect the sun to pierce his eyes so intensely. It was so painful, it felt like his head was going to explode from the inside.

Steve dropped to his knees as he was overcome with pain and squeezed his eyes shut. He knew that it was mostly to do with being kept in the dark for so long. He would have to wait a moment and allow his eyes to adjust before he could continue the chase. There was no use in chasing blind.

He heard the crunching of leaves underfoot just to his right. Steve dived to the right, catching who he assumed was Vivaldi, completely unawares. The two bodies his the ground and rolled down a slight decline. Steve ended up underneath Vivaldi as they scrabbled for the upper hand.

Steve rolled to the right, trying to avoid more pressure on his injured shoulder whilst trying to control his opponent. He snaked his left arm around Vivaldi's neck and held tight, ignoring his shoulder's screaming protests.

Vivaldi dug his fingers into Steve's arm, trying to pry it loose. Steve just squeezed tighter. There was no way he was letting go. Steve felt a stabbing pain in his side as Vivaldi struggled against him vigorously. The more Vivaldi struggled, the tighter Steve held on. Vivaldi's struggles became more desperate as he started wheezing.

"Steve!"

Steve squinted into the sun. Someone was standing above him, their silhouette oddly familiar.

"Dad?" Steve asked.