To say that Higgins was annoyed would be to offer a vast understatement to the situation. In fact she was royally pissed off. It was bad enough that she had allowed Magnum, her perennially unwelcome house guest, to drag her into yet another of his absurd cases. To allow herself to be captured by the Tweedledum and Tweedledee of crime was downright humiliating. She was aching all over, and her head was throbbing in time with her heartbeat. She tugged at the handcuffs that were pinning her wrists to a pipe above her head. Nothing had happened the last time she had tried using brute force to shift them, but she didn't have the leverage to dislocate her thumb. Sure enough, apart from more blood welling up from beneath the too tight metal, she didn't affect the slightest change.
"Quit trying to yank yourself free," yelled Tweedledum from across the hangar. He was more focused on the card game he was playing with his brother than on her. "All you're doing is hurting yourself and annoying us."
Higgins huffed in response, thinking that there was no way the two men could ever be as annoyed by her chains rattling as she was with her situation. But she didn't say anything. When she had first woken up, nearly three days ago, she thought, to see them grinning at her from across the old warehouse, she had resolved not to speak so much as a single word to these buffoons.
As if sensing her thoughts, Tweedledum threw down his cards and walked over to her. He had a smile on his face that Higgins thought was meant to be charming. Unfortunately for him, thanks to her frequent exposure to Magnum and his genuine, natural charm, she had developed quite an immunity to magnetism. And there was the fact that this particular facial expression made the man kneeling in front of her look a little like a weasel. The definitely didn't help.
"You might as well get cozy. You won't be going anywhere until the boss gets here, and he's a very busy man." He ran his fingers down her cheek, and she resisted the urge to turn away. Instead, she met his gaze with a withering stare and had the satisfaction of seeing him flinch.
She could have told him that his hand was clammy and his very touch nauseated her. She could have told him that, the instant he realised she had been kidnapped, Magnum would have called the authorities and the island was doubtless crawling with people, some of them highly trained soldiers, looking for her. She could even have told him that she had been trained in counter-interrogation techniques. She settled for smirking at his discomfort before looking away, dismissing him from her presence as utterly as if he had spontaeneously ceased to exist.
He pushed himself upright and stomped back to the table with a curse. Tweedledee snickered, prompting Tweedledum to cuff him around the back of the head. An outraged cry and a flying fist later the two of them were rolling on the floor. Higgins watched in disbelief as they pummeled each other, feeling more embarrassed than ever. How had these two half-wits managed to capture her? For that matter, how had they managed to evade Magnum and HPD for so long? Giving him a hard time might be a daily occurrence for her, but, no matter how many insults and barbs she threw his way, she couldn't deny the fact that Magnum really was very good at his job. Katsumoto was hampered by rules and laws, but she was genuinely surprised her boys hadn't come charging in already.
She took a breath, closed her eyes, and tuned out the kerfuffle that was the two least skilled brawlers she had ever had the misfortune to see.
'Focus on the case,' she told herself firmly. 'You've missed something. And if you don't figure out what by the time you next see him, Magnum will lord it over you for days.'
...
The client looked exhausted, face pale and eyes bloodshot. He'd arrived almost thirty minutes ago, and Magnum was starting to feel like he was never going to get to the point. He made a snap decision.
"Why don't we go through to the main building?" he asked, typing a quick text message to Higgins. "My associate has an office there." The man, Matthew Phillips, nodded and sighed heavily as he stood, as if just lifting his body weight was too much of an effort for him. Getting to Higgins' office didn't take too long, maybe two minutes, but, by the time Magnum was pushing open the door, she had closed whatever majordomo business she had been working on, opened a search on Phillips, and was just pouring a cup of coffee.
"Hello there. Mr. Phillips isn't it. It's a pleasure to meet you," she greeted with a beaming smile directed at Phillips. "Do you take cream or sugar?"
Higgins at her English best was a lot to take in, and the poor man seemed a little bowled over, a feeling Magnum had seen reflected on plenty of faces when people first met the blonde.
"Cream, please." Phillips dropped into the chair that Higgins waved her hand at, starting badly as Zeus and Apollo appeared out of nowhere and sniffed at him curiously.
"Easy, lads," came the gently spoken command, even though Higgins still hadn't actually looked up from preparing her own coffee. "Let the poor man breathe." The Dobermans trotted obediently over to sprawl on the floor beside the chair she was lowering herself into. "Now, Mr. Phillips, please tell me why you feel you need our services."
And there it was. As hard as he tried, Magnum could never seem to completely remove the sympathy from his voice. But Higgins, for all that he knew she cared for their clients as much as he did, was able to pull off a sort of matter-of-factness that seemed to inspire the worried clients to spill everything. He blamed the accent.
"I got married a year ago," Phillips began, sipping at the coffee. "We'd only been dating a few months, but it was…" He paused. "It was just one of those things. We both knew it was perfect. And we've been so happy. Or, at least we were happy. But a few months ago Hayley, my wife, she got a promotion."
The look on Higgins' face told Magnum she already knew all this but she nodded encouragingly.
Phillips caught the nod and sighed again. "We had to relocate out here in order for her to take the job. For the first few weeks, it was like paradise. But she started having problems at work, and she was spending more and more time at the office, and I started…" He squirmed slightly and looked away from Higgins' gaze. "I started to feel lonely, and I went to this club and met a uh…" He trailed off again, blushing hard and Higgins took pity on him.
"A working girl?" she asked, her accent making it sound like an official title.
Phillips gave a jerky nod and a nervous smile. "We didn't actually, you know, do anything. I went up to a room with her, and then I got kinda tired and laid down on the bed and then… Well, when I woke up, she had vanished and so had the cash I had in my wallet." He tipped his mug to his lips only to find it was empty.
Higgins immediately stood and lifted the coffee pot, refilling his cup as she asked, "So where do we come in, Mr. Phillips?" leaving Magnum nodding in approval at the adroit handling of this man who was now eagerly rifling through his pockets.
"A few days after, just as I was thinking 'no harm, no foul' and that I should just forget I had ever been such an idiot," he pulled an envelope out of his pocket, nearly spilling the coffee in the process, "this appeared in my mailbox." The images were graphic to say the least, with the dim lighting making them seem somehow even more sordid. It took a calm eye to look past the flesh on display to see that Phillips' eyes were closed in every shot, that his hands were being held in place by the woman.
"I can see why these would be upsetting," Higgins offered, not a trace of shock or judgment in her voice.
Magnum knew his own eyes were wide and was grateful for Higgins all over again.
"But it seems rather obvious that this woman drugged you in order to stage these pictures. Wouldn't you be able to explain them away to your wife as an unfortunate encounter with an enterprising prostitute while making yourself out to be innocent of wrongdoing?"
Magnum sat forward, listening intently. He'd managed to drag the rest of the story out of Phillips, but this was all new to him too.
"This woman, if it is her, she isn't threatening to tell Hayley. She's threatening to send copies of these to my boss. I could lose my job and my security clearance."
Magnum and Higgins nodded in understanding.
"You work for an engineering company," Higgins said, and Phillips blinked in surprise. "I take it your company handles government contracts? Hence the emphasis on security." She didn't wait for him to reply. "In which case, the idea that a high-level employee would leave himself open to manipulation by frequenting call girls could well lead to any current projects falling under review."
Phillips nodded miserably, and Magnum stood, walking around the table to stand next to Higgins' chair. "There's a few more questions we need to ask you."
...
The two buffoons had quit wrestling with each other and gone back to playing cards. They kept dealing and drawing like they were playing Texas Hold 'Em but neither seemed to know what constituted a winning hand. Tweedledum slapped down a hand, and Higgins was bemused by his cry of, "Yes! A two, a four, a seven. I win again!" She was even more confused when Tweedledee shook his head and dropped his own cards on the table.
"And me with nothing but garbage. Three queens and ace and a two."
She wondered briefly if they were playing at being stupid, if it was all just an elaborate act. As she pondered their intelligence, she was staring directly at them and Tweedledee noticed.
"See anything you like?"
She looked away quickly as they both sniggered, refusing to reply even to insult them.
"Maybe that's why she's being so quiet." Tweedledee stood and crossed the room to stand in front of Higgins. "Maybe she's not talking because she's trying to figure out how to tell us how amazing she thinks we are." He crouched in front of her, and his hand flashed out, grabbing her face and pulling it around to look at him. "Maybe she'll talk if we give her a good reason." He slid his hand up into her hair and tugged, dragging her face towards his.
His nails were digging into her scalp, and Higgins did the only thing she could think of; she spat in his face.
His mouth twisted, and he used his grip on her hair to yank her head upright and swung at her with his other hand. He caught her across the cheekbone with a crack that seemed to echo in the nearly empty room. She was so dizzy from the blow she wasn't sure what he called her as he lurched to his feet, although she was reasonably certain it was something unimaginative. A loud metallic squeal made her vision throb and told her Tweedledee had forced open the door to the loading bay and a clattering told her Tweedledum had rushed off after him.
She took advantage of their absence to let her exhaustion show. Her head was spinning and her vision was blurred and there was a roaring in her ears. She hadn't really slept since she'd first regained consciousness, and it had been two days since Tweedledum or Tweedledee had bothered to offer her any food or water. She tried to marshal her thoughts again and, for a terrifying moment, was unable to recall even the smallest of facts related to the case. She took a deep breath, in through the nose and out through the mouth, and started combing back through the case again.
...
"All I'm saying is that neither of these two look like they've got the brains to pull off a blackmail scheme." Magnum had been watching their hooker, Martha, all day, sitting outside the bar where she was serving for over an hour. He'd called Higgins just after lunch, and the two had left the line open since.
"I'm not disagreeing with you, Magnum." Higgins had spent the day watching Martha's boyfriend-slash-pimp at his construction site job, and her voice was full of exaggerated patience. "What I am saying is that these two are the only lead we have."
Magnum didn't have any choice but to agree with that. Phillips still hadn't received an actual demand to go with the blackmail threat, so the girl and the photographer were all they had. Finding Martha had been as simple as talking to the bartender at the club Phillips had pointed them to. Finding Tony, her 'manager,' hadn't taken long either, thanks to Higgins and her flexible view on state privacy laws. And now the two of them were stuck running surveillance on opposite sides of the island.
"What I don't understand is why they included a threatening note but didn't include their demands. Why tell a man you have the capability to ruin his job and not bother to tell him what he needs to do to prevent it?" Higgins' tone had changed, and Magnum wondered what she was watching Tony do.
"Psy ops," he answered. "Let him stew, let his imagination run away with him for a while, and he'll soften himself up for them. Then, when they tell him what they want from him, money or proprietary intel, say, he's less likely to balk."
Higgins hummed in agreement, the line crackling slightly though Magnum's cheap headset. "I could be wrong," and her voice suggested she absolutely didn't think she was, "but I'm pretty certain that the man currently trying to drive a forklift beneath scaffolding with the forks raised simply isn't capable of planning something this sophisticated."
Magnum grinned, his smile only getting bigger when a distant-sounding crash echoed through his headphones. "Let me guess. Tony just knocked down the scaffolding?"
"He did indeed." And didn't she sound amused, laughter clear in her voice.
Magnum was happy to hear it, and happy to take the opportunity to joke with her. "I could be wrong," he started, making sure to keep his voice light so she wouldn't think he was making fun of her, "but something tells me our friend just lost his job."
Higgins laughed outright, the sound making the phone line sing.
...
'Okay,' she told herself as firmly as she could. 'Phillips was set up by Martha and Tony. But they weren't the ones interested in blackmailing him." She glanced over at the open door where Tweedledum and Tweedledee were still standing, seemingly in the middle of yet another argument. 'These two don't seem to fit in with the blackmail at all. The only thing they care about is this 'boss' of theirs. So maybe he's the one behind those photos?' It was just so hard to think. She blinked hard as her vision swam sickeningly, all thoughts of the case driven out of her head by the way the hangar seemed to lurch around her. By the time she'd managed to open her eyes again, her 'guards' had left the doorway, and she had no idea where they had gone.
She tried tugging on the cuffs again. Her shoulders and arms were aching from being held up over her head for so long and her wrists were throbbing and burning. A particularly vicious pull, born of frustration, sent a droplet of blood running down her arm and she changed tacts. She tried to force her hands close enough to the wall that she could push her thumb against it. She thought she might be able to do it hard enough to force the digits out of their sockets and slip off the cuffs, assuming that dislocating the thumb actually helped. She'd only ever picked handcuffs before, but she thought she remembered being told that the so called 'old trick" was really a myth. All she managed to do was make something in her neck crunch with an eye-watering flash of pain.
There was the taste of blood in her mouth, and she let her head fall again. Her chest was heaving, her body felt like it had endured a beating, and she was starting to think that Magnum making fun of her might not be the worst of her concerns after all. She forced herself to lift her throbbing head again and look toward the door. No sign of either man, good.
She started shifting her body as much as she could, reasoning that the aches and pains were down to the enforced lack of movement as much as the dehydration. First, she bent and pointed her toes, then rotated her feet, rolling her ankles. Just those small movements made ripples of pain run along her nerve endings. She could feel a sense of worry welling up and knew from both her training and past experience that, if she let it, it could easily bubble over into panic.
'Slow your breathing,' she told herself, matching her actions to her words. 'Control your body.' She forced every muscle to relax, starting with her feet and working her way up until she reached her stomach. Her entire body froze at the pain that met her attempt to shift her muscles, and she couldn't help the cry that forced its way past her lips. She felt dizzy and sick and the worry was dangerously close to panic and something was tugging at her consciousness.
"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I didn't want to."
Higgins realised with a shock that she had blacked out and that Tweedledum had returned.
He was fumbling with the one set of cuffs, tugging painfully on her right hand. He had the key in his hand. "He made me do it. But this is too much! I didn't even want to hit your car, honest!"
"My…" Her throat was so dry she struggled to get the words out. "My car?"
...
Magnum didn't look up as the car door opened, intent on the crossword he was resting on his lap.
"Enjoying yourself?" Higgins' voice was acidic, and he sighed.
"Martha's been in there for over an hour. I was bored."
"Tony has been walking around aimlessly for over three hours. I'm exhausted!" She huffed a little and reached down to rub her calf muscles.
Magnum grinned and shook his head a little, knowing full well she was only doing it to prove her point. "Coffee?" he offered, grabbing the cup from its perch next to him on the seat.
She turned to him with a small smile. "You got me coffee?"
"Of course. You've been walking around after Tony for hours. I thought you'd be exhausted." He looked back down at the newspaper as she pulled a face that clearly said she was annoyed that he had preempted her complaint.
Not too annoyed to take the coffee, though. She sipped the latte with every indication of pleasure before settling back in the seat. They sat in silence for a short while. Magnum was pretty sure she was waiting for him to ask her for help with the crossword, and he was just trying to decide if she would be more annoyed if he asked or not when she suddenly turned to face him.
"Magnum? Was this cup sitting on that seat? That seat which would cost more to reupholster than you have made since you came to Hawaii?"
He was saved from answering by a blue Ford pulling up to the curb in front of Martha's house. The driver hurried up the steps to the front door, banging loudly. Magnum and Higgins watched intently, coffee and crossword and leather upholstery forgotten. After just a few minutes, the door opened again and the man reappeared, Martha and Tony trailing after him. They looked unhappy and seemed to be muttering to each other.
"I'll follow this chap," Higgins said, already opening the door. She was out of the Ferrari and back in her Rover before any of the trio turned around.
Magnum watched as the mystery man said something to the young couple that made them both flinch before he got back into his car. He took off at speed, followed at a more sedate pace by Higgins. Magnum didn't like her taking off after an unknown target without backup, but he had to admit she was more than capable of dealing with most things their cases threw at her. And he was fairly sure he could trust her not to do anything stupid.
He made a quick decision and grabbed his phone, leaving the car as soon as Tony had slammed the front door behind him. If he could get close enough to the house to find a window that was cracked open, he might be able to over hear something of interest. He sent a quick message to Higgins, just so she would know that he wasn't sitting around in the Ferrari while she was busy working.
"Gonna listen to lovebirds. Good luck with your tail." Higgins smiled as the text-to-voice read the message aloud, appreciating the fact that Magnum was keeping her informed. Not that she would ever tell him that of course. She didn't take her eyes off the Ford either, that would have been bad form. She wished she had her laptop to check the registration of the car but had to settle for snapping a picture of the license plate with her phone while they were stopped at a red light, telling herself she would do a deep dive on the owner as soon as she was back at Robin's Nest. Keeping three cars between her and the Ford meant she couldn't be sure, but she thought the driver was on his phone and amended her plans.
'First thing I'll do is get his phone records,' she told herself, 'then I'll do a deep dive. Something interesting is bound to turn up somewhere.' Unfortunately, it didn't look like this guy was headed home; he was getting farther and farther away from the residential areas, and the roads were getting quieter. Luckily, they were staying fairly straight so she wasn't finding it too hard to keep an eye on him while maintaining her distance. At least, she thought she had done a decent job of staying inconspicuous, but the Ford suddenly accelerated, and she stepped down a little harder, too, worried about losing him and facing days, if not weeks, of distinctly unfunny jokes at her expense.
She didn't even see the pickup coming. It had been idling in a turn off, waiting for her to draw level. The driver floored the gas, and the truck lurched forward and slammed into the passenger side of the Rover with a scream of metal on metal.
Higgins felt the steering wheel tear out of her hands as her body was thrown against the door, the seatbelt biting deep into her skin.
...
"You ran me off the road." Her voice was still so weak, and her throat was so dry. She hated how helpless it made her sound.
"It wasn't my idea. You pissed off the wrong guy, sniffing around Tony." He was still struggling to get the key in the lock of the cuffs, and a yell made him jump.
"Move!" roared the voice that Higgins just recognised as Tweedledum. "It's spreading, now come on!" Tweedledee gave her a stricken look, panic and fear in his eyes, and she felt that bubble of panic welling up inside her chest again.
"Wait, please." She didn't even know what she was asking him to do, she was just suddenly sure that she desperately needed his help. "Please." She let the panic boil over, let him see the fear she was feeling. But he was backing away from her, the key still in his hand.
"I'm sorry!" And he turned and ran back out through the door. Higgins squinted at the opening, trying to calm herself back down. She knew the science behind adrenaline and the adverse effect it had on the formation of memories. 'You didn't remember the crash because you've been in survival mode this whole time,' she told herself, trying to soothe her jangling nerves. 'They even have a name for it, something-or-other amnesia.' It didn't help much. Forgetting the crash and not even realising she was missing time was more than a little unsettling. She started to worry about what else she might have forgotten. But she kept frowning over at the door, confused by the haze that seemed to be creeping in through it.
"Oh my god!" she gasped. It was smoke. Those buffoons had set a fire. They had cemented their positions as blundering idiots, but they were going to do it at the cost of her life. Forcing the panic back down with a brutal efficiency, she focused on the adrenaline that was coursing through her as she wrenched her arms downward as hard as she could. If she couldn't free herself soon, she wouldn't need to worry about the fire; the smoke would get to her first. That was how it went, wasn't it? The smoke would fill the room ahead of the flames and suffocate her.
Or maybe that wasn't right? She vaguely remembered an assembly on fire safety at her primary school. A firefighter in full gear singing a song about how to escape a house fire. The chorus, "there's air on the floor!" sprang into her mind, and she was suddenly grateful she was sitting down. She knew she was focusing on all the wrong things, that she needed to get her hands free of the cuffs before she became nothing but a sad memory, but she couldn't seem to get her thoughts to line up. She tried, she really did, and finally she was able to bully her body into listening.
She lifted herself up, ignoring the screaming protests of her muscles, until all her weight was hanging on her wrists. At the same time, she strained every muscle in her arms, trying to bend them down. She didn't even bother trying not to scream at the pain. Instead, she used the sound to push herself further, taking advantage of her empty lungs to bend at the waist and put more pressure on the pipe and the cuffs. Nothing shifted, and she had no choice but to drop back to the floor.
One breath was all the time she gave herself. Then she took all the pain she was feeling and pushed it back with a ferocity and determination that would have told anyone watching that this was not her first life-or-death situation. Her handler had once given her a lecture on changing the angle of consideration. He was talking about flipping an asset, but it would work here, too. Her mind seized the thought and wouldn't let go. Standing was torturous, but she did it, dragging her stiff aching legs under her thighs and surging upwards with a strength born of pure terror. She spun as she rose, crossing her arms in front of her, ignoring the pain as the cuffs tore into her wrists. She could hear the flames now; they were spreading quickly, feeding on the paper that had been abandoned when the warehouse was closed.
She planted one foot firmly on the wall and pushed back, hoping her legs would be strong enough to break the pipe free of its brackets. The panic was slithering around her body, her heart was racing, lungs straining, and she kicked against the wall again. She didn't even see the drops of blood as they fell from the torn skin on her wrists. The smoke was so thick she was struggling to keep her eyes open, and her throat was stinging. From somewhere off to her left, she heard a crashing sound and whipped her head around to try to peer through the smoke.
Too fast. She moved too fast. The world tipped, and she tumbled along with it.
...
When Magnum first called Katsumoto to tell him Higgins had gone missing, she had only been gone for three hours.
"You're being paranoid, Magnum," the detective had said. "She was tailing someone? So maybe she's still driving and can't answer her phone." He hadn't sounded too convinced though; experience had taught him that if someone thought Magnum or any member of his entourage was in trouble, they were probably right. "I'll ask patrol to keep an eye out, but I can't do any more than that this early."
As security consultant, Magnum had access to the GPS data of all of Robin's cars. As a casual technology user, he had issues with the tracking program. He'd made a mental note to tell Higgins they needed to get the user interface sorted out before calling Kumu and asking for help. Between them, they'd managed to download the info, and he had raced off, the bad feeling in his gut getting stronger with every minute. When he'd pulled up on the side road and seen the wreck of the Rover, his entire body had frozen, and he'd been convinced that he was about to find Higgins' body strapped into the driver's seat.
His relief at finding the car empty had lasted for as long as it took for his brain to form the thought 'she's gone.' And then the bad feeling had come surging back. Two days later, he felt like he was running on fumes.
The constant anxiety was wearing away his nerves, and his only consolation was the fact that everyone else was just as edgy as he was. They had taken to using the study as a base of operations, Katsumoto for once actually encouraging him to stick his nose into the case. He nearly jumped as Rick came hurrying in.
"Ice Pick finally came through," he said quickly. "There's a guy he knows, did some work for him a while back. Rumor has it he's been arranging manpower for some wannabe kingpin, and the last job was something to do with a short-notice snatch-and-grab."
"That's not a whole lot to go on." But even as he questioned the intel, Magnum was already moving.
"I saved the best for last, brother. The target was a blonde in a Rover."
They had a quick conversation in the car and agreed that, with his background, Rick should do all the talking. Less than an hour later, the three of them, Magnum and T.C. flanking Rick, walked into a small, dingy-looking coffee shop. Two men jumped to their feet at their entrance, trying to look casual while resting their hands on their barely concealed guns. The trio didn't even pretend to be interested in getting a drink. Rick hung back while T.C. walked straight up to the men, Magnum two steps behind him.
"Our boss is here to see Mr. Kalama." He jerked his head in Rick's direction.
The two men looked at each other in confusion, clearly unused to facing people who weren't intimidated by them.
A voice called out from the booth at the far end of the cafe. "Let them through. Ice Pick told me to expect a guest." The speaker stood as Rick walked past the two guards and slid into the free bench, not bothering to look to see if Magnum and T.C. were following.
"I'll get right to the point," he said, not waiting for Mr. Kalama to sit down. "You arranged for some guys to kidnap a woman a couple days back and stash her somewhere. I want to know where." He kept his face blank as Mr. Kalama gave him a searching glance. Rick had hoped to simply pay for the information, but he had spent enough time around criminals to know that he was going to have to intimidate the man sitting opposite him. He let the silence drag on.
"Even if I knew of this kidnapping, why would I tell you anything?" Mr. Kalama smirked and his two guards chuckled.
Rick didn't react, careful not to even blink, but Magnum and T.C. both shifted their weight. It was a slight movement, the sort of adjustment of balance a fighter might make before going on the offensive, and Mr. Kalama noticed.
He raised his hands, palm out. "Now now, no need for unpleasantness. If I were to, ah, come across any relevant information, I'm sure we could arrange -" He stopped talking abruptly as Rick slammed his hands down on the table with an echoing crack.
"I didn't come here to be jerked around by some pissant middle man," he growled. They had all been keeping a tight hold on their worry and anger since Magnum had found the wreck of Higgins' car, and Rick pulled every ounce of it up to the surface now. "You are going to tell me; that's a definite. The question is whether you tell me now or later." Rick's hands shot out and gripped Mr. Kalama's wrists, squeezing tightly. "We can have a civilized conversation, after which my associates and I will leave and you can forget all about us. Or I can spend the next week peeling the skin off your body, strip by strip, while you beg to tell me everything you have ever known."
He gave a tug, and Mr. Kalama half fell across the table. Rick was dimly aware of Magnum and T.C. fighting with the guards, but he didn't look away, trusting his brothers to handle themselves. "I should warn you that I am not a patient man."
Less than a minute later, the door to the coffee shop swung open and T.C. held the door for Rick to walk through, Magnum watching the bloodied guards to make sure they didn't try anything clever. By the time T.C. had gotten in the car, Magnum had already called Katsumoto and given him the address Kalama had given Rick. Whatever warnings the detective was going to give him about not rushing into things was lost in the scream of rubber on asphalt as T.C. gunned the engine.
...
The doors of the car that had crashed through the back wall of the hangar burst open and three figures climbed out, tying damp strips of something that was once a t-shirt over their mouths. They immediately split up, each headed to a different wall, moving fast. After a minute, one yelled, "Over here!" and all three were soon gathered about Higgins' slumped form.
Rick and T.C. started picking the locks of the cuffs, wincing at the blood that made their job that much harder. Magnum pulled off his shirt, dumped a bottle of water over it, and wrapped it gently around Higgins' face. He wasn't even sure if she was still breathing until he lifted her head.
The cuffs clicked open, the two men gently catching her arms as they fell, crossing them over her chest. Magnum slid his arms around her and scooped her up, and they ran, diving back into the car. T.C. threw it in reverse, and they all held on as the wheels screeched in protest. As soon as they were far enough away to be safe from the flames and out of the smoke, T.C. stopped the car again, and he and Rick went to the back to lift Higgins gently to the ground.
She was coughing a little and shifting but didn't respond as they called her name. Magnum stayed with her, cradling her head in his lap, while Rick and T.C. walked over to the road to flag down the emergency vehicles. Even though they weren't in the Ferrari, they had still managed to leave them behind.
First up was Katsumoto, who nearly leapt from his car when he saw the smoke billowing in the air. The ambulance that was following him was waved over to where Magnum was sitting, worry on his face as Higgins still stubbornly refused to wake up.
For a while, the lot was a hive of activity. Firefighters were called to control the flames and hopefully prevent the fire from spreading. Additional units were called to help evacuate the nearby buildings. Katsumoto tried to chastise Magnum for running off headlong, the effect of which was spoiled a bit by the way the detective kept looking over at the ambulance with concern written all over his face.
"I've got a man sitting in a coffee shop claiming you three intimidated him!" Katsumoto snapped.
"He's not wrong." Magnum didn't look the slightest bit repentant, and Katsumoto's frown deepened.
Both men glanced at the ambulance where the EMTs seemed to be fussing over Higgins' wrists, the woman herself finally awake but looking pale behind the oxygen mask they had strapped over her face.
"You can't just bully people, Magnum, even if they are criminals. It makes my job that much harder when I try to get charges to stick." But Magnum was just nodding and Katsumoto knew he wasn't paying the slightest bit of attention. He glanced behind the P.I. to where Rick and T.C. were standing. They were both watching the EMTs, too, and Katsumoto suddenly deflated.
"Looks like they're nearly ready to leave. Go with her to the hospital," he said quietly. "And let me know how she is."
Magnum gave him a searching look before answering. "Of course we will." He turned to head over to the car, but Katsumoto called to him one last time.
"Oh, and Magnum? Be sure not to tell Higgins you drove one of Robin Masters' cars into a burning warehouse before I get there. I can't wait to see that conversation."