Okay, enough of this. I think it's time for the REAL Harper James to come out and play…

Chapter 20 – This Woman's Work

"The Edge... there is no honest way to explain it because the only people who really know where it is are the ones who have gone over."

~Hunter S. Thompson

Somewhere in Hawaii, the next afternoon…

Consciousness slammed into her with enough force to rock her body. Pain came right alongside. Her head was throbbing, and when she opened her eyes all she could see was a curtain of haze, penetrated only by the furniture of the makeshift bedroom he had created for her. She brought her shoulder to her face and smeared the blood it encountered away, wondering aimlessly how it had gotten there. The wind was wailing around her ears, chilling her deep and bringing the dim light of evening with it. The detective tried again to wipe her eyes, but her arms would not work. She twisted a bit, realizing with sickening swiftness that her hands were tied behind her. The cords binding them cut against her wrists, slicing a bit deeper with every move. So she lay still again, forcing herself to breathe deep, licking her dry lips with her dry tongue.

A bright flash of light penetrated her closed eyelids and she opened them as if on command, her eyes darting from side to side in her dream-like state. A slight murmur erupted from her parted lips as the sound of heavy boots struck old stone and her heart pounded to the rhythm of the vibration as the shadowy figure advanced toward her with his gun held securely within his claw like hand. She had heard him come in before she ever looked up and saw him standing there. The look on his face told her that he had not come into the room to check on her health.

"It seems you have some visitors, detective." Wo Fat snarled in his evil tone as he glanced toward the doorway. Harper sharply inhaled when she saw them being marched into the cell.

Her brothers…Frankie, Vinnie, Tommy, and Bobby. Followed by her father. Then Sammy. And Steve.

What were they doing there? It was then that she realized that she was alone on the floor of the room, staring into the grim faces and the terrified eyes of the people she loved most in this world. The realization that they were going to die hit her in an instant and a scream rose up in her throat.

"No!"

It came out of nowhere, the spray of gunfire and spatter of blood. Everything was in chaos, their screams filling the prison as they fell to the floor one by one.

Images invaded her dreams. Horror. Pain. Death.

Frankie.

Screams. Sobs.

Time itself seemed jaded. Colors erupted from nothing.

Flash.

Vinnie.

More screams. More gunshots.

Tommy.

Dead. They were dying because of her. To save her.

Bobby.

A bright light splashed through. Someone yelling. Screaming. Crying. More light. It seemed unnatural. Images of the men she loved as their lifeless bodies fell to the floor.

Flash.

Sammy.

Flash.

Steve.

Yelling. Screaming. Trying to catch her hitching breath, Harper lay her face against the cold, concrete wall and tried to close her eyes to the visions of death that were in front of her. But she couldn't look away. Her eyes focused and darted around the room, taking in the sight of them all writhing in pain, their bodies bent and broken beyond repair. Blood - so much blood smeared over skin marred with ugly cuts and bruises. For the briefest of moments, she could actually smell the sickly sweet coppery tang mixed with the odor of smoking guns. Wo Fat had exacted his punishment on her, just as he had promised he would. A punishment worse than death. She could feel the darkness that was trying to swallow her up.

Everyone was gone...her brothers, her partner, Steve...and only a feeling of hopelessness was there for her. It was the darkness of loneliness she'd always been afraid of.

"Harper."

Her father's familiar voice penetrated the darkness and she glanced up to see him looking down at her, the barrel of a gun pointed at his chest. Emotion swallowed her up for a moment; fear, pain, sorrow at what she had left behind, dread of what was to come. Tears slicked her eyes and she tried to blink them away.

"This is your fault," Wo Fat told her, the evil smile creeping over his lips. "You didn't work hard enough. You weren't good enough. You didn't find me in time and now they have to die. Their blood is on your hands."

"Daddy!" Harper cried, unable to move. Unable to help. He was right. It was her fault.

"You should have stopped me. I gave you every opportunity." she heard Wo Fat say as the sound of one last gunshot filled the small room.

It seemed to take Mickey James an eternity to fall...his body curved in a graceful arc as he sank backwards toward the dirt floor, his eyes locked with hers. She saw the look of mingled fear and surprise on her father's wasted, once-handsome face as his body finally hit the floor and his eyes closed for eternity. Seven shots and they were all gone. Lying cold and motionless on the floor.

Because they were trying to save her…

Whimpering, Harper turned in her sleep and cried out. "No! Don't hurt them!" Her arms were suddenly free from their constrictions and she reached out. "Don't hurt them!"

Her bare palm connected with the cold, stone floor and reality suddenly pushed through the haze that surrounded her as the realization that it was just a nightmare began to sink in. Harper coughed and then gasped in shock at the myriad of pain that shook through her body. Opening her eyes, she saw she was lying on her side in an unnatural heap. Trying to find her place in the world, the detective pulled her left arm from beneath her body and pushed up off the ground, slowly, trying to find a point at which her head didn't swim and throb. She put pressure on her hands as she righted herself and a scream of shock tore from her throat and bounced off the walls of her prison. Her eyes flew to the source of the pain to find her wrist purple with bruises and swollen as the bones and tendons fought to regain their accustomed positions in her arm. Sitting up carefully and blinking her sleep laden eyes, Harper shivered. She'd never felt this cold in her entire life. It was as if someone had sliced open her bones and poured in the ice from the darkest depths of Antarctica and further still. She didn't think she'd ever be warm again.

Blood.

She tasted blood. Metallic and warm and sickly sweet. On her lips. In her mouth. Over her tongue.

It was then that she remembered that Wo Fat had sent one of his henchmen into her cell the previous night. She could smell the alcohol on the gang member's breath the moment he had entered. He had been sent to administer more of drug that kept her immobile and in a haze, but true to her nature Harper had resisted. And in return the man had enjoyed torturing her…beating a defenseless woman within inches of her life. And then jabbing her with a needle full of that poison.

Forgetting her wrist for the moment, she brought her hand to her face and tried to find the source of that thick, unnerving taste. Her fingers fluttered first to her mouth, her teeth—they were all still there. Nothing loose. Then over her skin, her hand shaking as she did so, until she touched the cut high on her right cheekbone. From a fist? A knife? The glass? She wasn't sure, but she closed her eyes with gratitude when she found that the cut wasn't deep. She wasn't going to bleed to death, at least, she told herself as she swiped the back of her hand over her cheek and mouth to wipe away the blood.

She found herself huddled up in a ball next to the door to her cell in what could only be described as a dungeon pit from hell. Harper stared at its stone clad walls as damp drips of water descended from the roof and had to suppress a shiver. It was dark; she could barely see her hand inches before her face despite the presence of flickering candles in brackets along the walls. Her body was drenched in perspiration, but she was determined.

Detective Harper Elizabeth James would never let a monster like Wo Fat break her will. She could be unbelievably strong when she wanted to be. Mentally. Physically. Emotionally.

The room began to tilt, and Harper only just caught herself on her right elbow.

"Don't you pass out, James," she breathed, willing the dark spots away before they overtook her vision. "Pull it together. Pull it together. Pull it together."

Deep breaths in, deep breaths out. And she found her center once again. She focused on her body, taking inventory. Nothing felt sore, nothing felt torn, nothing felt bruised, nothing felt penetrated. The detective choked on a quick sob of thankfulness and then pulled her emotions back into check before they overtook her.

"Pull it together," she repeated, more forcefully.

Where was Wo Fat now? Had he abandoned his plan for her? Was he regrouping—just as she was—in preparation for their next meeting? And where was Jack?

"Jack?"

There was an eerie silence that fell over the dungeon as she called out for him again. Was he really still alive or had it all been a dream? Or worse yet…what had they done to him while she had been passed out?

"Jack?"

Harper knew her mind had to remain clear. The pain in her swollen, broken wrist was muted in the background. Her aching head pounded less. The blood stopped flowing across her cheek. She knew this world, and if she was going to survive, she would have to do so on her own.

She breathed quietly and concentrated on clearing her mind of the pain, of the nausea, and of the nightmare. She focused on what she had to do next.

One simple concept.

Escape.

The detective staggered to her feet and stumbled toward one of the candles hanging on the wall, taken aback for a moment by her weakened state as she was forced to lean against the wall for support. Finally drawing herself to her full height and detaching the candle from its position on the hanging, she placed it on the floor in front of her and kneeled down in front of it. She let her head fall almost to her knees as all of her remaining energy was eaten away by the cold. In the terrible silence and loneliness, Harper felt the overwhelming need to pray, to talk to God.

God would still hear her in this grotesquely evil place, wouldn't he?

"God…" she began in a whisper, focusing on the flickering flame of the candle, "I'm not very good at this and I'm sorry that I only partially believed in You for the last few years. But after my mom died and the things that I've seen on the job…I guess I just didn't see much evidence of your existence. And as a cop…evidence is my life. But someone told me once…I think it was my grandmother…that faith is the substance of things hoped for and the evidence of things not seen. So, I guess I'm relying on the evidence I have seen and asking for your help."

Licking her lips, Harper continued, "I'm not good at asking for help…from anyone, so don't be offended. And I know that this isn't 'Let's Make a Deal', but if you could help get me out of this one…I'd be eternally grateful. Please help me. Please…"

She was praying so hard, concentrating, that she didn't hear him open the door. He was always so quiet. A phantom. A ghost.

Wo Fat held a hospital syringe in one hand as he came toward her. He was saying something to her, something important, but Harper had no idea what it was. He grabbed her by the neck with one hand and she watched helplessly as the syringe pierced her flesh and he emptied the drug into her system.

Coward.

For such a powerful man, he was such a coward.

He kept talking to her, but the mysterious words echoed in her brain…meaningless mumbo jumbo. She tried to listen to what he was saying. She tried so hard…

"Detective James…talked to Jack…so smart. So smart that you're stupid!"

Harper nodded her head as if she understood what he'd just told her, followed his words and logic perfectly. He obviously knew she had talked to Steve's father. But was he saying that she was smart or that she was stupid? Or so smart that she was stupid? That was true enough.

"I wanted…talk…" Harper managed to say. Her tongue felt as if it were enclosed in a woolen mitten. What she had wanted to say was, "Let's talk this all out. We need to talk." But he wasn't much into talking on this visit. There was something especially inhuman about him this time.

Don't want to die…" she tried talking again, "Be good. I'll be good…"

As she was trying to talk, she saw him hold up the stun gun. Harper knew instinctively that the electric shock from the stun gun would immobilize her as it had before. She tried to concentrate on what she could do to save herself. She was on full automatic pilot now. All learned reflexes.

One straight, true kick, she thought to herself.

But that seemed impossible right now…she could feel her limbs getting weaker. The redhead reached deep inside herself anyway. Total concentration. All of her years on the force, all of her training now had to be channeled into one slender chance to save her own life.

He came toward her, moving very purposely. Harper kicked out with all of her remaining strength and aimed for his kidneys. The blow could incapacitate him, but she wanted to kill him.

But she missed the kick of her life.

Instead, something else happened. Her foot did connect solidly with bone and flesh. Not the kidney, not even close to her intended target. But the kick has slammed into his hip, or his upper thigh. No matter…it had hurt him.

Wo Fat yelped in pain. He sounded like a dog clipped by a speeding car. She could tell that he was surprised, too. He took a sudden stutter-step backward and he toppled over.

She had hurt him. Wo Fat was down.

Run! Go! Run your ass off! Get the hell out of here now!

Harper staggered and weaved out through the heavy wooden door he had left open behind him. She didn't know how badly Wo Fat was hurt or where his little buddies were. Escape was her only thought. But her mind was playing tricks on her. Confusing images came and went, without making the proper connections. The drug, whatever it was, was taking its full toll. She was disoriented.

She was barely able to climb to climb a steep stairway outside the door. Was it heading to another floor? She was hopelessly bewildered and confused now. Has she really knocked Wo Fat down or was she hallucinating? Was he coming after her? Blood was roaring in her ears and she felt dizzy enough to fall down.

Jack.

Where was Jack?

He was close by. But where? Where was his door? She had heard them opening the doors last night. Where was he? She was having horrendous difficulty navigating her way through the long, narrow hallways. She weaved like a drunken soldier as she wondered what kind of structure she was in. Was it a house? It looked like a house, but what kind of house had walls like these?

"Jack!" Harper called out, but her voice barely made a sound. She couldn't concentrate, couldn't focus. Where was he? She stopped and pulled on a doorknob, but the door wouldn't open for her. Why was the door locked?

"Jack! Please answer me!"

And then suddenly…

"Harper?"

She could hear his voice but couldn't get her body to move toward the sound.

"I'm out, Jack! I escaped!" she called to him. "Where are you?"

"No!" he shouted back and she still couldn't make out the direction of his voice. "Go without me!"

"No!" Harper screamed. "We can do this together. We have to…"

"They broke my legs," Jack admitted. "When they found out I was talking to you, they beat me. I would only be a burden to you. Go get Steve and bring back help!"

"I don't know the island…"

"You can do it, Harper!" Jack commanded roughly, "I know you can do it! Now, run! Go!"

Escape! she commanded herself. Find the way out. Focus on that! Bring back help. Steve, Danno, Chin and Kono…they were waiting. They would come and save the day.

She came to another flight of stairs that looked ancient, almost from another era. Dirt was caked on the stairway. Soil. Little rocks and glass fragments. These were really old stairs. Harper could barely keep her balance any longer, so she pitched herself forward and almost hit her chin on the second stair. She kept crawling, scrabbling, up the stairs. She was on her knees climbing up the stairs. Toward what? An attic? Where was she going to end up? Would he be there, waiting for her with the paralyzing stun gun and another syringe?

Suddenly she was outside!

She was actually out of the prison. She had made it out somehow. The redhead was half blinded by the streaming bands of sunlight, but the world had never looked so beautiful. She breathed in the sweet smell of the trees…acacia, Hawaiian treeferns, towering pines with no limbs except at the very top. Harper looked at the woods and the sky high above her and she cried. The tears washed down her face.

Escape! She suddenly thought of Wo Fat. Harper tried to run a few steps, but she fell again. She did the hands-and-knees waltz and then lurched back to her feet again.

Run! Get away from here!

She tried to concentrate on finding her way out of the dark, dense forest. He would be coming after her now. She was pretty sure she didn't hurt him very badly, though God knows she had tried. He was going to try and catch her, and then he was going to kill her when he did.

Harper settled into a herky, jerky rhythm of running and stumbling forward. The forest floor was soft and spongy, a carpet of pine straws and fern leaves. And then she heard it…

"Harper!"

He was coming! She heard him crashing around behind her. His bravado had to mean that nobody was around for miles…nobody to help her in the godforsaken woods. Hawaii had thousands of acres of forests on the island and she could be anywhere. She was on her own out here.

She could hear the rushing sound of a waterfall and she headed in that direction. Maybe there would be some tourists or a way of calling for help. Harper climbed a steep, rocky hill that seemed like Mount Everest in her exhausted state. She slid and went down hard in a mesh of honeysuckle and pointy rocks. Excruciating pain shot through her left leg, but she pushed herself up again.

Ignore the blood. Ignore the pain. Keep going. You have to get to Steve. He has to know his father is alive. Just keep going!

"Harper! Detective James! I'm right behind you!"

The top of the steep hill ended abruptly in a canyon. Steep, sheer rock dropped at least a hundred feet down. Only a few bare scrub pines grew out of the rock. There was nowhere to hide and nowhere to run. Harper thought it was a sad, lonely place for her to die.

She finally turned to look behind her. There he was! Forty, thirty, twenty yards away but his eyes were fixed on her. The detective turned away from him, turned her back on Sammy's killer. She peered down at the steep valley of rocks and trees. The dizziness she felt was almost as terrifying as the deadly alternative rushing up behind her.

She heard him scream her name.

"Harper!"

She didn't look behind her again.

Harper Elizabeth James McGarrett took a deep breath and jumped.

She tucked her knees and held on to them. Just your regular swimming hole cannonball leap, she thought to herself. There was a river down below. The silver-blue ribbon of water was coming at her unbelievably fast. The roar was getting louder in her ears. She had no idea how deep it was, but how deep could a small stream like that be? Two feet? Maybe four? Ten feet deep if these were the luckiest few seconds of her life, which she sincerely doubted.

"Harper!" She heard Wo Fat's screams from high above, "You're dead!"

Harper hit a wall of water…hard. She hit the bottom so quickly it was as if there hadn't been any water in the fast moving stream. The detective felt sharp shooting pains, terrible pains, everywhere. She swallowed water. She realized she was going to drown. She was going to die either way…

At least she was going out on her own terms.