Five-0 HQ, Wednesday: 0600 hours local time
Danny was going to go crazy if he didn't get to leave the office, like, immediately. After looking at the same walls for almost twenty- four hours, he was ready to put a gun in his mouth just to end the physically painfully monotony of the place.
They could do nothing but wait at this point. Sometime in the last six hours- Danny couldn't say exactly when- he had spoken once more to Admiral Goodich, who said that Ivanov's ship was scheduled to come in at any time past 0800 hours, and that they didn't know much beyond that.
So they waited. And waited.
Finally, after what Danny was sure was several lifetimes, the tedium of his waiting was interrupted by a man.
Sure it was an uptight, unsmiling, rod- in- the- ass SEAL, but hey, at least it was something.
"Detective Williams?"
Déjà vu. Horribly irritating déjà vu.
"Yeah." After 24 hours of uselessness, that was about as good as it got in terms of small talk.
The man didn't seem to notice Danny's curt tone.
"Sir, my name is Officer Pinkleman- but you can call me Pinks, everyone does." Danny could see why; the guy's nose was very, very red. It looked like a tomato.
Pinks continued, oblivious to Danny's nose observations. "I was sent here by Commander McGarrett."
Danny started.
"McGarrett? He's back?"
"Yes sir. Our plane landed half an hour ago. I was sent to a medic and then to come find you."
"Why did you need a medic?"
Pinks paused. "It's classified, sir," he replied, trying to remain polite.
"O… kay." Danny was not going to try and argue with that. "Where is McGarrett now?"
"He's… working the other side, sir," Pinks said.
Danny audibly groaned. "If one more person tells me that today, I swear I will spontaneously combust due to pent up exasperation." He turned to Pinks. "What the hell does it mean to work the other side?"
"It's-"
"If you say the words 'it's classified' to me, I will castrate you."
Officer Pinkleman grimaced, but remained resolute. "I'm sorry sir," he said.
Danny sighed. "Okay, Officer," he replied, "Just tell me what the situation is."
"Yes sir," he said, perking up at actually being able to help. "We have a SEAL working the civilian angle, one with the Admiral, another tracking Petrov's plane, and Commander McGarrett working the other side."
Danny wanted to groan again. How typically Steve to fly in from god knows where and completely take over the case.
"The plan is to let Ivanov dock, and then track him to wherever he's going-"
"the cell tower on the northeast part of the island."
"Sir?"
"That's where he's headed. That tower is optimal for signal disruption. It's the best place to be hidden and optimize the chances of landing their plane."
Pinks seemed pleased that they knew the location.
"Excellent!" He cried, before getting a hold of himself. "Anyway, we're going to have eyes and ears on the situation inside, including where they stand on the hostage situation and possible bomb threats to the island."
"Where is this intelligence coming from?"
Pause.
"Forget I asked. Keep going."
"At this point, we believe that Ivanov and his men do have contacts on the island and that there is the potential that they have a bomb that they are threatening Kahale with if he does not hack the satellite. We believe the only reason that nothing has been blown up yet is because Kahale told Ivanov he would jam the signal feed while they were travelling and so they had no way to test the veracity of his claims."
"That makes sense," Danny agreed, "but once Ivanov docks and meets up with whoever his contacts are, they are going to start blowing stuff up until Kahale complies."
"Exactly."
"Okay, Officer. What do you want from my team and me?" Danny asked.
"Commander McGarrett says you guys are the best he's seen. He wanted me to tell you that…"
He paused, his nose showing evidence of blushing.
Danny took pity on him; it must have been hard to relay the words of a superior officer when they were so disrespectful (For Danny knew they would be disrespectful).
"He said that… you could stop your bitching because he has the situation under control. He also said to me that you and your team were the only ones he trusted to work the case."
Danny found it hard to be mad at the guy who told a subordinate officer just how much to trust Five- 0. It was irritatingly… nice. Danny wanted to cringe.
"Of course he did. What does the Commander want us to do, Pinks?"
"He wants you to watch for Ivanov's boat and follow him. He says not to engage no matter what, and he wanted me to reinforce the 'no matter what' part. He says he wants surveillance on the meeting and the hostage satiation. He wants you guys to get Kahale out safe and ensure that no bombs go off on his island."
Danny scoffed. Steve's island? Last he checked, other people lived here, too. His mind quickly backtracked to Pink's words, though.
"What does McGarrett mean, 'no matter what'?" He asked, eyes narrowing.
Pinks looked uncomfortable again, but responded anyway.
"Sir, you are probably going to see and hear things in your surveillance that will make you want to blow your cover and 'barge in' as McGarrett put it. He wanted me to tell you, or ask you, or beg you- however I could- not to interfere no matter what you may see."
Danny sighed, and resigned himself to the fact that, even while completely MIA, Steve McGarrett still managed to influence his decisions."
"Okay, Pinks. Let me gather the rest of my team. Where are we headed?"
"To another boat on the dock where we can have surveillance equipment and sound set up for when Ivanov arrives."
"…Right. Remind me again how we have all of this?"
Another damn pause.
"you'll see." Danny could see Pinks was sitting somewhere between anxiety and anticipation.
Great. Just Great.
Oahu North Shore Harbor. Wednesday: 0800 hours local time
Despite the severity of the situation, Steve was very close to sighing in relief. After trekking through the jungle, almost getting blown up, and then sitting stiffly in an airplane for several hours, he was glad to have exchanged his heavy, dirty gear for a pair of jeans and a t- shirt. He would have preferred cargo pants, but that hardy screamed Russian insurgent. Which was the whole point.
Still, he felt naked and exposed after wearing his gear for so long, and so he was painfully alert, eyes scanning the docks every few seconds and taking notice of each of the two men he was standing with, both similarly dressed.
Ivanov was scheduled to arrive any moment, and Steve counted his blessings once again that they landed before he docked. His job was made that much easier with the extra time.
"Tell me again how you got here?" The man to his left asked in Russian, dark eyes narrowing at Steve. It was hardly intimidating at all, and really just made him want to smirk. Or scowl. Both would have been equally effective.
"I came after I got the call in Moscow," Steve responded in kind, looking not at the man himself, but rather over the water. "Everybody is dead. Some kind of natural gas explosion. My guess is some bastard cut the circuit and caused a spark."
Steve could tell this went way over the guy's head. He nodded and seemed to accept that Steve would be in charge of this mission.
Steve turned to him now, and asserted his dominance. "Petrovsky told me that you've got a bomb on the island. That true?"
The man smirked. "Yeah. Me and the boys got one over Oahu General, and another over the Police Station. Word is Ivanov's guy has a mom in OG and a cousin in the department. We'll make him crack in no time."
Steve felt anger course through him, and it took every nerve in his body not to strike this disgustingly boastful man. He barely bit back a scowl and just managed to replace it with a halfhearted attempt at a smirk.
"Good."
"Got it, bossman."
Steve had never been happier to hear Officer Pinkleman's voice in his ear.
"Speers is on it now with your girl Kalakaua. Kelly is doing recon with Franco. The plane is comin' in hot."
There was a pause in the mike, as though Pinks was listening to somebody else, too.
Shit! Sir, we have a situation-
The rest of whatever Pinks might have said in his ear was drowned out by the sound of a very loud ship blowing its horn. Steve didn't have time to worry about whatever Pinks couldn't tell him; he had to be Volkoff. He trusted his team to handle whatever it may be.
Party time.
It was Ivanov's ship, definitely. For one, it had the logo for a shipping company out of Manchuria that Steve knew had been a cover for the Russian mob to move drugs in an out of the country for years. Beyond that, Steve was sure that packing crates didn't open themselves, and he doubted very many other freighters housed stowaway terrorists.
A group of people began to descend onto the deck. There were eight in total, including Ivanov and a man with a bag over his head who Steve could only assume was Kahale. As a unit, they moved towards the three men on the deck. Steve kept eyes on Ivanov as much as he could without seeming suspicious.
He was an aging man, but had retained a youthful, dangerous looking body. His dark locks and pale eyes gave him a sinister air, especially when he smirked. Which is what he was doing.
The group approached Steve and the Russians behind him. Not wasting any time with a preamble, Steve took the last step toward Ivanov, and held out his hand respectfully.
"I'm Volkoff, Sir," he said in rapid Russian, "I came as soon as I could."
"What do you mean, boy?" Ivanov asked, and Steve wanted to cringe at the name.
"I was in Moscow when… somebody blew up the warehouse. Made it look like a goddamn accident. Petrovsky and the rest of the men are dead."
Ivanov's pale eyes widened for a moment, not in compassion for his fallen men but for the possible ramifications of what Steve was implying.
"Were we made?"
"It looked American, sir. My cousin is looking into back in Moscow and I flew out here to meet you."
Ivanov eyed Steve, who looked down respectfully, hating every second of it.
"Volkoff?" He seemed to be testing the name. "Yes, I know a Demitri Volkoff. Does booking for me."
Steve nodded. "Another cousin," he said.
It was a lie, of course. Volkoff was a name coined by the American government for any agent in a covert operation in Russia. Steve borrowed it for the mission, but he wasn't the only person to have it. Demitri Volkoff was actually a fellow SEAL who had spent months tracking Russian mob money across Europe. There were a few others scattered across the country as well. All cousins, if anyone were ever to inquire.
"Does he have anything?" Ivanov asked, eyes flashing with anger at the blown Moscow warehouse op.
"A lead or two, sir," Steve replied, feeling safe since he was technically giving himself away. "He and his boys found evidence of a hardwired circuit at the sight. Smells like American military."
"God damnit," Ivanov breathed.
"I'm sorry sir."
"Is that how you got that cut on your jaw, kid?" He asked, eyeing the tear in Steve's face. In truth, he'd forgotten all about it, and was sure it looked pretty nasty at that point.
He shook his head. "Had a little run in with the police back home. Seems they weren't too happy with my leaving."
Ivanov nodded in understanding. It was then that he noticed the men behind Steve, who had remained quiet through the exchange.
"What's the word on the situation here, boys?" He asked.
One spoke up. "We got two bombs, sir. One over the Hospital and one with the police."
Ivanov turned around to face his entourage. He looked at Kahale, though the man could not see him through the cloth over his face.
"'Ear that, Agent Kahale?" He asked in English, sneering. "We 'ave you're island under our control. Geeve us vhat we vant, and I promeese not to 'urt anyvone."
It was definitely a lie. Steve knew they'd probably blow up the hospital and HPD no matter what. Luckily Speers and Kono had by now probably located the bomb and, given the Russians' lack of intelligent explosives power in North Korea, most likely dismantled it, too. Of course Ivanov didn't know that. Which unfortunately meant that Kahale didn't either.
"Right!" Ivanov switched back to Russian. "We have two hours until Petrov's plane comes in. Let's get moving. The coordinates for the location are in the vans."
Steve pretended to be startled.
"Petrov, sir?" He asked. "I though we were breaking him out."
Ivanov only smirked. Steve wanted to hit him.
Behind Steve, two vans whipped around the corner and pulled up onto the dock. Several of the men made toward one with Kahale (no doubt to begin convincing him to hack the satellite), leaving Ivanov, Steve, and the two other locals to board the second one.
The door the innocuous black van opened wide as the driver and passenger made room for the newcomers.
There was a third man in back, hands tied, struggling futilely on the floor of the vehicle. Steve's heart filled with dread, and he wanted to hit something- or perhaps just give up and break down- because the struggling, captive man was Danny.
Unknown location north of Oahu Docks, Wednesday: half an hour earlier.
Danny could safely say that Officer Pinkleman was under direct orders from Steve to annoy him to death.
Every time Danny made to ask a question, Pinks responded that it was classified. In the hour long car ride to the ridge overlooking the north harbor, he learned nothing new about the situation.
"Look, I'm sorry sir," Pinks said after Danny's thousandth question about what the hell they were doing. "I can only tell you what Commander McGarrett told me; you're supposed to have eyes on the situation and try and get Kahale out of there unharmed."
"Fine, fine," Danny grumbled, feeling just a little like an impatient child. "How close are we?"
"Its just up the hill. There's a van on the ridge that we'll use for surveillance."
Danny nodded. After a few moments of silence, the car crested the hill and Danny spotted the van. They parked the car next to it, and both clambered inside the other stationary vehicle. It looked quite similar to a police van, but closer inspection showed Danny a set of much more advanced equipment. Pinks plopped down in a chair like he was at home in the cramped vehicle, swiveled around, and began typing furiously. A few moments later several screens directly in front of them showed the docks at several different angles.
Danny finally got a look at his partner for the first time in days. Steve was dressed in simple, civilian clothing, but his stance was much more alert than his garments suggested. Even on the screen in less- than- bright coloring, Danny could see that Steve looked pale and slightly drawn, with purple shadows under his eyes. He was alert, but clearly weary, and there looked to be a nasty cut on his left jaw line. What he was doing on the docks with a couple of disreputable men was a mystery, but Danny could venture a guess.
"So… working the other side… it's not a sharp shooter?"
Pinks snorted. "No," he told his counterpart, "Although the Commander does have a nasty shot. I once saw him down a man from two football fields away… in the forest to boot."
Danny turned back to look at his partner on the screen. Steve seemed to a legend among legends.
Pinks watched Danny watch his partner.
"I forgot you only knew him as an islander."
"Huh?" It was hardly an intelligible response.
"Commander McGarrett usually looks like that on active duty." He indicated to the dark circles and weary stance. "Some of the boys are sure he doesn't sleep. There's a betting pool."
Danny wanted to laugh. "And how did he respond to that?"
Pinks smirked, too. "He told me where to place my bet, and we split the money."
This time Danny did laugh. "Seriously?" He asked, wiping mirthful tears from his eyes.
Pinks nodded. "Yeah," he replied, "we made a pretty penny, too."
There was movement on the docks, and both men turned their attention to the screen. Steve was speaking rapidly in Russian to a slimy looking man next to him, his eyes never leaving the dock.
Pinks was listening intently, as though he could understand every word Steve and the other man were saying.
"Got it, bossman," he said, motioning Danny to call Kono. He complied, hurriedly relaying to her- as Pinks was telling him- that there was a bomb at Oahu General and one at HPD. Danny felt sick as he relayed the words to his teammate. HPD? Shit, was all he could think. Nonetheless, he relied on Kono and the SEAL she was with to disassemble them- the SEAL was an expert, after all.
Chin called next, to tell Pinks and Danny that he and his ninja extraordinaire managed to locate an unmarked, Russian- built plane that left Seoul illegally some time ago. It was expected any time now.
"Speers is on it now with your girl Kalakaua. Kelly is doing recon with Franco. The plane is comin' in hot."
Suddenly, the door to the van was ripped open, and before he could turn around, Danny was yanked from the van. He twisted and struggled, but to no avail.
Pinks was yelling something. There was a single shot that rang out. Danny saw Officer Pinkleman fall, clutching his chest. He hit the deck and didn't move again.
And then Danny felt a sharp pain at the back of his neck, and knew only fuzzy shapes and distorted colors as someone carried him through the dense foliage…
He started to come back into focus when a bump rocked him back and forth against unforgiving steel. He was in a van. Uncomfortably. With his hands bound. Fan-fucking-tastic.
He started to struggle against his bonds, but it was useless. The van made a severe right, and Danny was rocketed against the left side of the vehicle. He winced as his back connected with metal. That would surely bruise.
Still fighting his bonds, he continued to struggle even as the door slid open. There, in all their Russian- pretend or otherwise- glory, were two men. One, the smirking one, was definitely Ivanov. The other, trying hard to maintain aloofness, was Steve McGarrett.
Steve met Danny's eyes, and shook his head imperceptibly. Danny, who had worked with the cryptic man for several very long months, read a lot from that nod. I don't know you. I'm not Five-0. Do not engage.
Danny gave a single nod, disguised as a grimacing movement, and knew his partner would get the message.
Ivanov spoke to the driver in Russian, still smirking gleefully. Danny though he heard the word police, but his Russian was very limited- limited to da and niet really- so he wasn't sure.
Ivanov turned to Steve, and demanded something. Steve responded, planting an uncharacteristic sneer on his face and glancing at Danny. If he didn't know the guy, Danny would have been apprehensive about that sneer. Luckily he knew the guy.
The van took off once more, Danny bouncing up and down on the floor as Ivanov and Steve watched, one gleefully and the other quasi- apathetically, as Danny winced with each painful contact with the metal.
"Who the hell is this?" Ivanov asked the driver, looking down at Danny in a way that made Steve want to cringe.
He looked down at his haggard partner, and shook his head ever so slightly, begging Danny not to blow his cover, and not to do anything stupid- like piss off Ivanov.
Danny net his gaze, and then he grimaced and leaned his head forward. It was a confirmation nod.
"A cop. We found him and a SEAL doing recon above the docks. The SEAL took one to the chest. Died there. We figured you would want to meet this guy."
Steve felt his chest tighten. The SEAL took one to the chest. Pinks. Officer Pinkleman. His charge. Dead.
Death came with the territory, and Steve knew his fair share of felled men, but that didn't make it easy. It was never easy.
"You been here before, right Volkoff? You know this guy?"
Steve plastered a halfhearted sneer onto his face and glanced down at his partner. "I heard about him. He's Five-0, a special task force guy."
"Think we can use him?"
"I think I can get him to give you whatever you want, sir."
Ivanov seemed pleased. "Okay Volkoff, he's all yours."
Steve was pleased, too. With Danny under his surveillance, maybe he overpowers Steve and escapes. Maybe his bonds are accidentally too loose. Maybe he gets lost in transit. Steve would take whatever Ivanov could dish out if it meant getting Danny out of the mess he created.
The van came to a screeching halt, slamming Danny against the wall again. Steve winced sympathetically; Danny would be bruised tomorrow.
The side door opened, and Danny was yanked out roughly. Steve and Ivanov followed. Once outside, Steve immediately recognized the cell tower and the building beneath it as the tower on the north side of the island. Of course- there was a deserted air base a few hundred yards north of there. Plenty big enough for Petrov's plane. With Pink gone, he and Danny were on their own, so he could only hope that Chin and Kono knew where to go. Or he could free Danny.
The unit and their two hostages made their way into the spacious building at the base of the tower. Inside was a slew of tech gear that was beyond Steve's knowledge base, as well as an office and a back room that was dark and slightly foreboding.
Ivanov forced Kahale into the chair in front of the satellite equipment. Steve had never met the islander, but he was sure that if they threatened his island and family, he would eventually cave.
That was not a problem. The Russians had no leverage, but didn't know it yet. Beyond that, Petrov had to land on island. Steve needed to tell Kahale that.
"Sir?" He asked Ivanov, looking to the older man. "I speak English, sir. I think I can get him to hack that signal no problem."
Ivanov considered this for a moment, before nodding.
Steve approached Kahale with a nasty expression plastered on his face. He leaned in close so only Kahale could hear, and made it sound like he was delivering threats.
"Agent Kahale," he whispered, still sounding nasty. "Steve McGarrett. I'm Five-0, and a SEAL. We need that plane to land. Hack the signal."
Kahale wasn't a Langley man for nothing; he pretended to look nastily at Steve, and spit at his face. Steve calmly wiped his face, before lashing out and striking the man. He held back, and felt Kahale roll with the punch. Still, it made Steve hate himself a little more.
"DO IT!" He yelled, still in English, "Or I detonate the bomb."
Kahale pretended to whimper. He closed his eyes, and whispered, "Fine. Okay. I'll do it."
Ivanov smirked. Steve was glad his performance sold; he thought he might pursue acting if being a SEAL fell through.
Kahale put his hands to the keyboard, and began to work.
"Damn Volkoff," Ivanov whistled appreciatively, "what did you say to him?"
Steve smirked- though for an entirely different reason than Ivanov. "Just a little friendly persuasion is all."
Somewhere near Waikiki, Wednesday: somewhere around the same time
Chin Ho Kelly prided himself in being a rational man. Even with the added stress of his job, the man had always kept a certain air of calm collectiveness in the face of danger. It was something he was rather fond of.
Even after working under Steve McGarrett for some months, Chin still managed to stay put together- much more so than his Boss's unfortunate partner. He was pleased that he managed to keep a level head and even get to teach some of it to his young cousin. Kono was learning quickly, and Chin was very hopeful that she would inherit at least some of her cousin's level headedness so that together they could balance out the other two.
It was for this reason that, when Kono called him in a clear and undeniable alarm, he allowed himself a moment to panic. Panic was healthy.
"Slow down, cuz. What happened?"
"I can't get a hold of Danny, Chin," Kono said from the other line. He could hear shouting in the background. "I'm with McGarrett's SEAL Speers, and he says that the guy Danny was with is MIA, too."
This was odd, and more than a little disconcerting for Chin. He was with another of Steve's men, a guy named Sam Franco, and so far they had located Petrov's plane, but done nothing more than watch it fly closer and closer to the island.
"You sure, Kono?" He asked.
"No," she responded, unsure, "but Speers says his guy wouldn't just go off the grid for no reason, and Danny was supposed to be available."
Before Chin could respond, a noise sounded from the monitor next to the one showing Petrov's plane. He looked at Franco questioningly.
"That signal shows the frequency of the satellite over Honolulu," he replied, eyes narrowing. "It's begun. They're hacking the signal. We'll lose sight of the plane in a second."
True to its word, the monitor displaying the dot thaw was Petrov's plane began to flicker, and then scramble as it was replaced with shaking blackness.
"That's it. Petrov's plane is coming in. We have to assemble a team and prepare for a very quiet takedown. He doesn't know we have eyes on Ivanov. We'll have a unit standing by in minutes at the airfield."
"Chin! CHIN!"
Oh yeah. Kono.
"Sorry cuz," he said, putting the phone back to his ear. "We got new info. Petrov is coming in hot. McGarrett got Kahale to hack the signal somehow. It's a good sign, Kono. They wouldn't have gone ahead and hacked the signal unless they knew you and Speers disarmed those bombs already. The message got through to Steve. Danny and Pinks got the message through."
She paused, clearly thinking. "But they're supposed to have eyes on Ivanov," she argued, "why hasn't Danny called?"
Chin couldn't help but agree with the rather disheartening observation.
"You're right. Look, they're assembling a team now to ambush Petrov the second he steps off the plane. We know where they're supposed to be. We'll go with the strike team and see if we can't find them."
She agreed, and hung up with no further small talk. Kono was worried, and Chin couldn't blame her. A silent Danny was never a good thing.