I'm sorry it took longer than usual this time. At least it's the longest chapter so far. I've been moving to another country so I barely had time to write. But I'm back on track now. I'm not entirely happy with this chapter but I hope it's not too bad.

Thanks for all the wonderful reviews!

When Steve came to, the first thing he saw was Esther's face. He had to open and close his eyes a few times to bring her fully into focus. His head hurt and his body felt distant. Esther was leaning above him. Smiling.

The surface he'd been laying on felt soft and warm. It took him a couple of seconds to realize he'd been laying in a bed. He hauled himself up into a sitting position and looked around. Slowly, he took in the scene. A small square room, one window, daylight coming from outside. He could move his arms freely, so he wasn't cuffed anymore. The question was: why? And where was he? How did he get there?

"You came back," Esther said, satisfaction gleaming her eyes. "I wasn't sure you would."

Steve stayed silent, his brain working overtime. Came back? From where? What was she talking about? He forced himself to think harder, to recall what was the last thing he remembered. His cell. The pain. And then nothing. A total blank. His head was foggy and his sight still blurred, it was hard to focus on remembering what had happened.

Esther straightened her arm toward Steve, holding an opened water bottle in front of him. He furrowed his brow in confusion and looked into her eyes. This was the first time she offered something to make him feel better instead of trying to inflict pain. There had to be a catch.

"Come on, drink up," she encouraged him. "Don't worry, it's not spiked," she said, as she was reading his mind. A satisfied smile was still dancing on her lips.

Steve hesitated for a moment. His parched throat felt like sandpaper and his dry lips were cracked. The thirst gnawed at him and he could think of nothing other than cool liquid to quench it. His head banged and throbbed and dehydration just made him feel weaker than he already had been. It was not a hard choice, he just had to risk it. He grabbed the bottle out of Esther's hand and in one motion he raised it to his cracking lips. The cold liquid felt blissful in his throat, he savored every drop until there was nothing left. It was not enough to quench the thirst, just enough to keep him alive and going.

"I hope you had a good sleep," Esther grinned. "You're gonna need some energy."

Steve wondered what she meant by that. "What are you talking about?" he barked. He couldn't hold his anger at bay for any longer.

Esther shook her head. "I'll tell you, but not yet," she said. "I need you to clean up and eat something first." Maintaining eye contact with Steve, she sat on the bed right next to him.

Steve squinted his eyes and drew his brows in confusion. No restraints, a room with a window, water, shower, and food? After all, she'd done to him? Where did this sudden hospitality come from? It was not for his benefit, of that he was sure. He could feel weird sensations in his body, it felt so detached. He wanted to stand up and fight, but it was like he didn't know how. Taking down Esther and trying to escape should be his priority, yet he couldn't. Something felt wrong, something he couldn't understand.

"You don't remember, do you?" she asked, studying his face.

"Don't remember what?"

"What you've done," she said. "What's the last thing you remember?"

Steve took a moment to think. "The cell," he said. It was the last thing he could get to. The dark and cold cell. His hands free for the first time in days. The unbearable burn of the serum in his veins. The gnawing pain with every breath he took. It seemed so distant to him now and yet it was the last thing that was there in his head. He couldn't even remember how he'd come to be sitting next to this woman now. "The cell," he repeated. "That's the last thing I remember."

"I really messed you up, didn't I?"

Steve's brain clunked and whirred, cogs turning, trying to figure out what had happened. But the gnawing headache, aching body, and drowsiness prevented him from remembering anything. His brain felt so useless. What was happening? What had they done to him? Why couldn't he remember? Why couldn't he make himself fight?

She ghosted her fingers gently around Steve's jaw, soothing him. "It's all right, darling," she smirked. "You'll remember eventually. Soon. And that's when I'll get what I've wanted since the beginning. Your suffering."

Return to consciousness was sluggish and painful. Danny opened his eyes, frowning at the ceiling of the room. The antiseptic smell had helped him to realize he was in a hospital. That would explain why he felt like crap. He blinked several times to disperse a surge of dizziness.

"Hey," he heard a female voice on his right. He shifted his head slightly to the side where Catherine was sitting next to his bed.

"Hey."

She gave him a slight smile. "I just came to check on you a few minutes ago," she said. "How are you feeling?"

Danny remained silent for a moment as dim memories of what had brought him into the hospital teased him. He closed his eyes again, which turned out to be a mistake as the images flooded his mind immediately. How did he feel? His best friend had shot him. All he could see was the look in his friend's eyes when Steve pulled the trigger. The tears running down his cheeks when he apologized for what he was about to do. He opened his eyes again with a long, painful sigh. He shifted himself into a more comfortable position and the movement immediately sent a spike of pain into his chest accompanied by a quiet groan. "How do you think?" he responded, managing a slight smile.

He looked around the room. The rays of sunlight creeping in through the drapes into the hospital room were suggesting it's not the night anymore. "How long have I been out?" he asked.

"All night," Catherine answered. "But you're gonna be all right. The doctor said you were lucky. Through and through, no vitals. But you've lost a lot of blood by the time they got you here. You should be good to go by tomorrow."

Lucky? Was that supposed to be a joke? "Tomorrow? No, I can't wait that long," Danny protested. "And I really don't feel lucky right now," he mused.

Catherine stood up, looking over her shoulder in the direction of the door. "I should call the doctor. Let him know you're awake," she said.

"No, wait," Danny stopped her. "Tell me what'd happened back there first." Their eyes met and Catherine's lips instantly turned into a frown. "You know, don't you?" Danny asked. He was certain Catherine had known more about Steve's behavior than he had. He could say she'd been deep in her thoughts.

"I do," Catherine said, lowering herself back to the chair. "But I wish I was wrong."

"Tell me," Danny demanded. He didn't care how bad it was, he wanted to know. He needed to know what was wrong with Steve.

She released a long sigh before she started to speak. "There was this look in Steve's eyes and needle marks on his arms," Catherine started to explain, creasing her brows.

The images of Steve's cold, blank gaze when he'd pulled the trigger crept into Danny's mind again. The same look he had later on when he attacked Catherine. The look Danny had never seen before and that was impossible to forget.

"And his behavior. I saw it before," Catherine went on, looking into the floor, almost like she was ashamed.

"What do you mean you saw it before? Where?" Danny's curiosity was now peaked.

"CIA," Catherine said with a taut face, waiting for Danny's response. But except for a confused look and his lips slightly open, there was none. "They developed a scientific method for controlling the minds of individuals around seventy years ago and never stopped improving it. They used mind control and brainwashing technology to make the subjects to believe in their agenda. They managed to use it to induce specific action or behavior in the subject, basically turning them into sleeper agents."

Danny's jaw dropped as he tried to absorb the information. "Whoa, slow down. Are you telling me he's been brainwashed?" He found himself asking as he shifted himself higher on the bed to almost sitting position, despite the pain. That couldn't be right, he refused to believe it.

"That's what I'm saying. And it's the only explanation of his behavior," she said, "Danny, he would never hurt you or me. Not willingly."

He knew she was right. Steve wouldn't do that. And he also knew this kind of stuff is not science fiction anymore. But he didn't want to believe it'd happened to his best friend. And how - if at all - you can bring such a person back to their mind. "How?" he asked, demanding more information. "Tell me everything you know about this."

"Are you sure you want to know? It's…" Catherine paused, looking for words. She lifted her sight to look at Danny's confused face. "It's bad, basically torture, Danny."

He clenched his jaw and closed his eyes for a second, considering whether he was ready to hear what actually happened to his best friend. But it was the only way to understand, to help him. "It's Steve. I want to know what they had done to him," he said.

"Okay. I'll tell you how it works in the CIA, but there might be slight differences in what someone else uses," Catherine began to explain as she rested her hands in her lap. "Well first of all the CIA uses physical and psychological harassment, as well as drugs and chemicals on their subjects. Experimental and dangerous drugs inducing paralysis, fear, hallucinations and extreme pain. Its primary objective is to lower the resistance of the subjects, to confuse them so they're no longer able to say the reality from the dream. The subjects who survived described the feeling of it like it had been burning them alive from the inside, getting worse until they passed out."

"Wait a second," Danny interrupted her, raising his eyebrow. "Did you just say the subjects who survived?"

"I did," Catherine confirmed. "Unfortunately I had a chance to see what these drugs do to people. Some of the men just couldn't take the extreme pain, confusion, fear, and all the mind-screwing anymore, so their bodies basically shut down after a while. I've seen some tough nuts crack." She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to drive the images of that away.

Danny stared at her, speechless. Steve was alive when they found him, but Danny didn't like of idea of all this happening to his best friend. Especially now, when his mind was in such a delicate state after losing his mother. He let Catherine go on.

"The key part of the mind control is hypnotic like messages repeated over and over to an unconscious subject. The orders, instructions for what they're supposed to do. For hours in a row. The harder the mind tries to block all these messages, the more pain the drugs inflicts. And it gets worse and worse every single time until the subject's brain succumbs," Catherine explained and breathed out a long sigh. "And it always does, eventually," she added.

That's not what Danny wanted to hear. He knew Steve. He knew Steve would fight until the end, which meant more suffering. A big knot in his stomach made him sick from the thought.

"And once the person wakes up, they usually have no idea that something happened while they were out. There is just fear, confusion, hallucinations, and pain, no real memories. And then it starts all over again," Catherine went on explaining, hardly holding back the tears that formed in her eyes.

Danny remained silent while putting the pieces together, trying to focus. "So can he be made to perform any act involuntarily under the influence of this drug?" he asked eventually.

"Yes," Catherine confirmed. "It can make people do anything against their will or knowledge. You know, a human mind is a lot like a computer. If you know how, you can program it to do anything you wish."

"All right," Danny said, sitting up completely, groaning in pain. "Do you think they want him to access Red Hill?"

"That's the only way he would do it," Catherine said, confirming exactly what he'd thought.

"Damn," Danny cursed and began to rip off the IV from his arm. "That's not good. We need to find him. Fast."

Catherine drew her brows together, looking at him. "What do you think you're doing?" she asked.

"I can't stay here. There is no time," Danny answered, although he knew it was obvious. Gritting his teeth he attempted to ride out the wave of dizziness that flooded him as he slid his feet out of the bed.

Catherine was by his side quickly, giving him a scared look. "Danny you've been shot. You've lost a lot of blood, you can't just stand up and walk away."

"All right, listen to me," Danny's voice raised. He clenched his fists as the pain radiated through his chest. "He needs help. And I'm not going to sit here, not knowing what's going on. If he hurts somebody, or worse, he'll never forgive himself. And if they really brainwashed him… If he breaks into Red Hill, no one will care if he's Five-0 or not. He'll either end up dead or in jail. I won't let that happen." Danny didn't care he was hurt. It didn't matter now. He needed to find Steve, that's all that mattered.

"I know. Don't think we've been sitting around all night. We've been looking for him but we got nothing. And Commander Jackson keeps ignoring our warnings. It seems they hadn't made their move yet," Catherine said.

"Wait, did you…?" Danny's eyes popped out.

"No. We didn't mention Steve could be a threat," she said.

"Cath, I have to get out of here. We need to get him back before he'll do what they want him to do."

Catherine's lips curved into a smile. "Lou was right," she said. "You really spend too much time with Steve. Trying to run away from a hospital, even if half-conscious, is his specialty."

Danny gave Catherine one more determined look. "Help me out. There is no way I'm staying here."

The food was good. It was the first one he'd had in who knows how long. Fresh bread and some sort of meat and vegetable stew. Esther didn't give him a knife or fork, he just used the bread to scoop up the bits. But Steve didn't care. He just wanted, no, he needed, to eat. But after five big mouthfuls, he could take no more. His belly felt bloated. It gurgled away, unused to food sloshing around inside it. He knew that if he tried to eat any more, it would only end up back in the bowl in front of him. Steve felt disappointed. Defeated. But he knew that even the small amount he'd managed to eat would be better than nothing. If he could keep it down.

"You're done already?" Esther said with a condescending laugh.

Steve stayed silent. He didn't want to play her game. Whatever reason she had to be hospitable wasn't for his benefit and he didn't want to be a part of it.

"You should eat more, I need you to go for a field trip," she said. "We already got your uniform and ID."

"I already told you," Steve protested. "I won't do that."

Esther's grin grew wider. "Yes, you said so," she said. "Yet you've done everything I've asked you to do so far."

She got his attention. Steve's head whipped up, his jaw opened as their gazes met. "What?" he barked.

"I've heard Detective Williams had been shot," she announced, maintaining eye contact with Steve. "And this pretty woman who was with him, what's her name?" she pretended to fish in her memory. "Catherine?" She smirked as she noticed Steve's reaction. "She'd been attacked too."

Her words slapped him in the face. How did she know about Catherine? He'd never told Esther about her. Or did he mumble her name when hallucinating before? But it wasn't just the names she'd used. It was what she'd said. Danny and Catherine had been attacked. His best friend had been shot. How bad was it? Was he even still alive? What the hell was Catherine doing in Hawaii? Did Esther even say the truth? Doubt had been creeping into his head more and more. He had a hard time convincing himself it was a lie.

"It was bad, do you remember?"

"What do you mean, remember?" he spat, clenching his fists. "What have you done to them? What have you done to me?" he asked, trying to hold it together. He'd tried to hold out but he really hated Esther's mind-screwing techniques. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, trying not to think about what had been done to him. But more importantly, trying to think about what could have happened during the lost period. The period of time that was omitted from his memories. What happened to Danny and Catherine? It looked like he'd been broken and he didn't want to think about what that meant.

Esther laughed mockingly. "Oh, darling, think about it. Put the pieces together."

She went silent but her wicked smile remained as she stared at him intently. Steve got a sickly feeling in the pit of his stomach. From the food or her words, he wasn't sure. It was surreal. His head was a confused mess and yet it was like he knew what was coming. But he wanted to be wrong so badly that he tried to push the thoughts to the very back of his mind. But he couldn't, he had to know.

"What do you mean?" he said.

"Come on Steve," she chuckled. "I think you know."

He racked his brain. "No," he said, shaking his head. He could see where she was taking the conversation. And more than anything, he felt scared.

"You've done that, darling. Because I wanted to."

Steve's brain whirred. That couldn't be true, he would never do that. He refused to believe they managed to get into his head. He couldn't fail like this. Danny and Catherine were all right, they had to be all right. "No," he whispered, anger tugging at him. "You're lying."

Esther shook her head. "You don't have to believe me, but it's true." She swept closer and leaned toward Steve's ear. "But it was just a small test. I think it's time for some real job," she whispered.

The next words that she'd mumbled into his ear didn't make any sense to Steve, but the instruction was clear and all the anger and fear were gone again, like with a turn of the switch. There was just one goal on his mind.

2 hours later

Steve followed the access road to the ridge of the Koolau Mountains as the sun began to rise. Halfway down the three-mile-long road, he turned the SUV onto the small, unlined road, passing the sign that read 'Authorized Personnel Only'. He just hoped that Esther'd been right and their crew managed to get him on the list of authorized people, otherwise he won't make it out of there. He forced himself to take a deep breath. And then another. He had no choice, something in his subconscious nudged him to get the shit done no matter what. A voice whispering in his head.

He closed his eyes for a second in an attempt to ride out the burning headache but it didn't work. Nothing did. He felt like crap but it didn't matter now. The pain coursed through his whole body and he probably had a rib or two cracked but he couldn't show it to them. Not without raising a flag. He gritted his teeth and tried to focus.

He had only his goal in mind: gather the intelligence. The exact layout, guards, security measures, access codes for the doors, everything Aaron's crew could use in the next phase of the plan

Steve stopped right in front of the ramp, where two armed guards were standing. He opened up the window and waited for one of the guards to approach him.

"Good morning," said the guard dressed in navy blue uniform and black kevlar vest, his finger on the trigger of his M4 rifle.

Steve didn't say anything, but gave him a slight fake smile, handing over his ID.

The guard nodded and scanned the ID with his scanner, linked to a computer log controlling access to the area. The guard stared at Steve for a moment, comparing his face to the photograph. A second guard walked around the SUV, surveying the vehicle. Finally satisfied, he returned to his position.

"Having a good week?" the guard with the scanner asked, staring into Steve's eyes with a gaze that suggested he couldn't care less.

Steve nodded and gave the programmed response. "About average." As he knew, this was one of three acceptable responses. Had he answered differently, a dozen armed men would have converged on the vehicle and his life would have become way more interesting immediately.

The guard relaxed and he flashed Steve a smile. "Have a good visit, Commander," he said and waved him through. The steel ramp lifted up, clearing the path for him to enter.

He pulled over to a small visitors' car park on the left side of the road and turned the engine off. Pushing away the weird, anxious feeling in his subconscious, he walked toward the facility entrance.

Flanking the stout green circular door stood two armed guards dressed in full battle rattle and clutching rifles slung combat-style across their chests. These boys didn't seem to be much for small talk.

Steve handed the guard his ID. The guard scanned it and the system assigned a digital entry timestamp. The guard rotated the scanner in his hand and offered it to Steve to image his left thumb and right index finger. The scanner flashed green. His fingerprints were a match. The stone-faced guard entered a rotating code into the keypad beside the green door. The door hissed open, and the guard waved him through.

As he entered the hall, a tall man had been waiting for him. J. Jackson. Steve read his name tag.

"Commander McGarrett, it's nice to finally meet you," Jackson said, shaking Steve's hand. "Your reputation precedes you."

"Nice to meet you too, Sir," Steve answered vaguely and he gave him a slight smile.

Jackson scanned through Steve's body, frowning. "You don't look good, what happened to you?" he asked.

Steve's lips curled into a fake smile as he pointed to his pale, bruised face full of cuts. "Oh, this? Just another day in the office," he answered, hoping Jackson won't question it any further. "I'm fine."

"Okay," Jackson nodded but the look in his eyes said he wasn't entirely convinced. "I had several calls from Five-0 in the past days," he said, staring at Steve. "Should I be really concerned? Is there anything I should know about?"

"As you know, I was hoping you could shed some light on the security of this place, Sir" Steve explained. "We would sleep better knowing the bad guys can't get what they want."

"Of course, Commander," Jackson gave him a smile. "But I can ensure you there is nothing to be afraid of. This place was built with the threat in mind, it's secure. But based on the calls, I understand there was a particular threat hanging in the air."

"There'd been a certain threat but it'd been solved, Sir. There is nothing to worry about," Steve answered without hesitation. "It just made me think about how this place is an important national asset and that's why my team contacted you to arrange this tour for me. I just found it interesting."

"Good," Jackson said. "I'm glad we've got people like you and your team making sure Hawaii stays a safe place. I'll gladly walk you around."

Jackson reached to the shelf and grabbed two white helmets off it, passing one to Steve. "Just health and safety," he said. When they secured the helmets, Jackson spun on his heel, signaling Steve to follow him. They walked down the tunnel lined with thick pipes on the right side of the stone walls and turned left to the security door.

Jackson punched a five-digit code into a generic twelve-button keypad mounted beside the door. Five-nine-zero-seven-three. Steve made a mental note. He arched his eyebrows as the entire panel slid upward to reveal a black glass surface beneath.

Jackson pressed his right hand against the glass. An instant later, Steve heard a beep, followed by a click as the magnetic door lock released. Steve recognized this brand of security door - hardened, with reinforced internal hinges, and a magnetic lock that made it impossible to bust open by force. He scanned the corners above and noted the security cameras above the door. His mind whirled as he thought of the second part of the plan - return here later on, with a group of people who want to blow this place up. With all this security it seemed to be a suicide mission.

Jackson opened the door and gestured Steve to enter. Two rows of door lined the long corridor inside. They walked toward the doorway in the corridor, where he punched in another security code. Jackson opened the door, letting Steve inside and revealing a bridge over the top of a huge hole carved in the rocks. The top of the first fuel tank was deep under their legs as they stopped on the bridge.

"That's impressive," Steve said, genuinely amazed by the perfect construction.

Jackson gave him a smile. "And that's just the beginning. As you can see the access to the tanks is limited and they are all protected by a thick wall of concrete, like this one. And it's just one of the reasons why I think the threat your team mentioned is irrelevant. There's more."

"I'm all ears."

3 hours later

"I'm telling you, it's not that easy," Steve barked at Aaron, who stood across the table with his arms crossed in front of his chest, frowning.

Steve spent the last few minutes trying to sum up what he'd learned back in Red Hill but it seemed impossible to make Aaron listen to his suggestions.

Aaron clenched his jaw. "Can I kill him?" he asked, turning to Esther.

"Not yet," she said, shifting in her chair. "You wanted to know how to get in so shut up and listen."

"I didn't count on him telling me what I can and can't do," Aaron raised his voice.

Steve rolled his eyes. "You want to do this or what?" he asked impatiently.

"Fine," Aaron growled. "Go on," he said reluctantly, encouraging Steve to continue.

"You might get in, that won't be a big problem but then what?" Steve continued. "All those tanks are protected by a thick concrete wall and even if they weren't it wouldn't matter. The fuel in the tanks is classified as NFPA class 2 liquids, these have flash points above a hundred F, which means that they do not generate enough vapor at the liquid surface to ignite if an ignition source is located at the surface of the liquid." Steve's voice raised. "You could throw a match directly on it, and it wouldn't ignite."

"I know how to do it," an unfamiliar male voice from behind him said. "I'll need a few hours to prepare but I know how to create a bomb that'll handle it."

Aaron nodded, his frown turning upside down. "Perfect. Start working on it," he said. "Now. We'll do it tonight."

The man nodded, spun on his heel and left the room.

"So," Aaron continued. "We'll hack the cameras, send the recorded loop to the system, shoot the guards and…"

"No. No shooting," Steve protested.

"Excuse me," Aaron whipped his head in Steve's direction. "What did you just say? Don't you tell me what to do, McGarrett."

Steve released a long sigh. "As soon as you use the gun, you're screwed. You would be outnumbered in a matter of seconds and you'd never get out. It needs to be silent."

"He is right, Aaron," Esther stepped in.

"Fine," Aaron hissed through gritted teeth. "You have a better idea?" he asked, glancing over Steve. "And better make it a good one because you're going too."

"Yes. I have a plan."

I'd really appreciate if you could find a couple of seconds to let me know what you think.