McGarrett pulls up in front of the small house. A black car with tinted windows sits a few driveways down, and he walks over and taps on the window. The window is rolled down.
"Can I help you?"
"Marshal Peters. I'm here to relieve you of your duty."
Peters frowns. "But you said-"
"I know what I said. Things have changed."
Peters stares at him a moment before nodding. He picks up his keys and takes one of them off, handing it to McGarrett. "That's the house key."
"Thank you for your cooperation," McGarrett says. He waves at the marshal as he drives away, then marches up to the front door of the house and unlocks the door.
"Hey, Peters!" someone-presumably Holloway-calls loudly. "Finally decide to come in and watch the game with me? It's not looking so good for-who the hell are you?"
"Your new handler. Come with me."
"And why the hell should I do that?"
"Because I'm the guy with the gun. And because I'm with Five-0. Do you know what that means?"
Holloway has grown visibly pale. Obviously he does know what that means. He gets up and follows McGarrett out to the car. McGarrett pops the trunk and Holloway starts shifting nervously.
"Are you going to kill me?" he asks, point-blank.
McGarrett has to smile at that. "No, I'm not going to kill you," he says as he yanks Holloway's hands behind his back, zip-tying them. "But there are some very angry, very dangerous people who will if they know you're here. So I suggest you stay as quiet as possible."
"You-you can't do this man. I'll die in there! It'll cook me alive!"
McGarrett pauses to think a moment. "Nah. It's not that hot." And shoves Holloway into the trunk, slamming it shut. Then he gets in his car, and he drives.
He's not going anywhere in particular, just driving around in circles, really. He's waiting until they find him. It doesn't take long for him to spot a conspicuous SUV with tinted windows following him through the streets. Perfect. He guns it, weaving through traffic. He's got to make it look real.
The SUV follows him, and he leads them on a merry chase, out of the city and into dense forest. And they're stupid enough to follow him. Good.
He finally brings the car to a screeching halt, noticing with a smile the muffled groan coming from the back of the car, and gets out, gun in hand. He stands behind his open car door, leaning casually against it.
The SUV stops and three men get out. Two of them are big, and holding guns. Obviously the brawn of this little operation. The third is a small, weasel-ish man with glasses and a nervous disposition. He eyes the gun in McGarrett's hand with trepidation. So he's the brains. But he's not the boss. None of these three are fit to be leaders, he realizes quickly. Damn.
"Where is he?" Brawn One asks, his voice the low growl you would expect from a henchman.
"Where's who?" McGarrett calls.
"You know who!" Brawn Two shouts, waving his gun a little for emphasis. McGarrett rolls his eyes and promptly puts a bullet in Brawn One's knee and another in Brawn Two's shoulder with a dark pleasure. Then he blows out the front tires of the SUV for good measure.
Brain stands trembling, looking back and forth between his fallen comrades and McGarrett, who is now approaching with fire in his eyes and a gun aimed at his head.
McGarrett grabs the uneasy man by the shoulder and leads him roughly toward the car. He doesn't say a word. Better to let him stew in his worry and fear.
"You'll be driving," McGarrett says once the get there. He gets into the passenger seat, pointing the gun at Brain's head. "Do exactly as I tell you. Try anything, and I will blow you away without a second thought." He's not bluffing, and he knows that small, nervous man knows it.
They drive deeper into the woods, until there's nothing in sight except trees, trees, and more trees. The man in the driver's seat grows more and more anxious, squirming in his seat, his face pale and sweaty.
"Stop here," McGarrett commands. "Get out."
The man gets out and stumbles to his knees and pukes on the ground. McGarrett watches with grim satisfaction.
"Get up," Steve commands. Brain pulls himself up, not making eye contact. "What's your name?" No answer. "Look at me!" The man reluctantly raises his eyes.
"My name is Harrison. Andrew Harrison."
"Harrison. I'm Steve McGarrett."
"I know who you are."
"Good. Then you know just how serious I am. Now I have some questions I'm going to ask, and you are going to answer them." Steve doesn't know what he plans on doing if Harrison refuses to answer, but the rage flowing through his veins is enough to frighten even him. "What does your boss want with Holloway?"
"Holloway betrayed him. He's a rat. My boss doesn't like rats." He says the last sentence with a bit of a wince. He's a rat now. But Harrison seems to be more afraid of McGarrett than his boss. As long as that's true, everything will be fine.
"Why was Danny blindfolded and I wasn't?"
Harrison hesitates at that and McGarrett brandishes his gun.
"Fine! My boss wasn't only after Holloway. He was after you, too. Williams was never supposed to be taken, too, but that's just how it worked out. He wasn't blindfolded because it was never my boss's intention to let him live. It didn't matter what he knew because he'd never be able to tell anyone."
McGarrett bristles at that, and Harrison can sense the blood in the water, because he adds, "I talked him out of it. I did. Williams' getting shot, that wasn't our fault. That was all Lennon. The guy was a loose cannon. I tried warning Boss, but he didn't listen. He never listens." Harrison blanches. He's said too much.
"Things aren't going so well between the two of you then?" Steve says conversationally.
"I didn't say that."
"Why are you here?" McGarrett asks suddenly. "I mean, I can understand your boss not wanting to come here himself, but why on earth did he send you?"
"I…I don't know." He frowns, considering the question.
"Looks like you and your boss have some things to work out. Tell me who he is."
Harrison stares at him. "No. I can't do that."
McGarrett cocks the gun and puts it to Harrison's temple. "Please?"
Harrison closes his eyes. "I can't. Go ahead and kill me. If I tell you who he is, what he does to me will be much worse."
McGarrett considers this. He's lost the upper hand. He's got to find a way to get it back. "Things are obviously not going too well between you two. So here's my offer to you: Tell me who he is and I can offer you protection. There's not much he can do to you if he's in prison."
"He'll find me before you find him."
"Not if we hide you."
"I'm not exactly the innocent party in this whole thing. I'll likely end up in prison, too. He'll just kill me there. If I'm lucky."
"I will personally see to it that you are in a prison as far from him as you can be."
Harrison shakes his head. "It won't make a difference. You were in prison when you were stabbed, right? He can hire someone else to do it if he can't himself."
McGarrett winces at the memory, and his scar aches for a moment. He wonders briefly how in the hell this guy knew about that, then realizes it was probably televised all over the state, if not all over the country.
"Then what do you suggest, Harrison? Because I can't very well just let you go. Especially not if you're going to keep your boss's identity from me. So…I could just kill you and dump your body in the woods. Or I could arrest you, take you to the state pen. You know, the guys there hate two things: cops, and rats. And you're a rat. It won't help that you're small."
Harrison has grown very pale, and is shifting from foot to foot, wringing his hands. "Okay. I think we can work something out. But it involves trust on both sides. If I tell you, you have to let me go. Because if I don't go back to him, he will know I squealed and he will do to me whatever he pleases and even the mighty Five-0 will not be able to stop him. So let me go and convince him that I'm still on his side. I'm smarter than he is. He trusts me. I can manipulate him and make him completely certain that I would never betray him. And then you come in and you bring him down, you don't send me to prison. Put me on parole for a couple years."
"You're crazy."
"Then you better put that bullet in my head right now." He closes his eyes, waiting for the bullet.
McGarrett stands with his gun to the man's temple. It would be so easy, so satisfying to pull the trigger. But…
"Fine. We've got a deal. You give me the name, then you have twenty four hours to clear your name and then we're going in. If you try to warn him, I will tear you limb from limb. I'll have eyes on every airport, every air strip, every dock. There will be nowhere for him to go. There will be nowhere for you to go. So don't try to disappear because you will not be able to and then you'll have me to answer to. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes, Commander. Very much so."
"Good. Give me the name."
"Jeffrey Anderson. His name is Jeffrey Anderson. He's from upstate New York, was involved in some pretty sketchy stuff. When he found an undercover cop in his operation, he moved it out here. And then he found a mole in his operation here. Your friend Holloway. Where is he by the way?"
McGarrett presses his mouth into a grim line. "Back at his safe house," He says. "Never left. Now you better get your ass into gear because your twenty four hours are gonna go quick." And then he gets back in his car and drives away.
XXX
He finally stops at Hawaii Five-0 headquarters, and drags an over-heated and slightly bruised and very miffed Holloway into one of the holding cells there.
"You'll be safe here until we find you a new safe house. Sorry I shoved you in my trunk. Believe it or not, it was for your own safety. The people who were after you had figured out where you were and I had to move you."
"And use me as bait."
"Well, and that. Just be grateful you're alive." He gives Holloway a supportive clap on the shoulder, making him wince, and drives to the hospital.
Kono and Chin stand up when he comes into the waiting room.
"Where the hell have you been?" Kono demands.
"I had some things to take care of. But I'm done now. How is he?"
Kono and Chin look at each other, exchanging a glance that makes Steve nervous. "What is it?"
"You'd better go see him," Kono says finally. Steve runs to the room, heart pounding against his chest. He's afraid of what he's going to find when he gets there. He mutters silent prayers to himself and bursts into the room and-
"Hey, Steve." The voice is weak and tired and scratchy.
"Danno."
He looks exhausted and like hell, but he's awake. His eyes are clear, and he smiles at Steve. "Fever finally broke. The doc says that my body can work on healing the rest of me now, and I should be out of here before too long."
Steve smiles, and sits in one of the plastic chairs. "It's good to see you awake, Danno. You actually had me worried there for a minute."
"What, you? The badass SEAL with no fear, was worried? Well, I'm flattered."
Steve smirks. "Yeah, well, I have a concussion. Don't give yourself all the credit."
Danny grins tiredly. His eyelids are slipping shut.
"Go ahead and sleep, Danny. That's an order. I'll be here when you wake up."
Danny looks up at him. "Promise you won't do anything stupid."
Steve plasters on a fake smile. "Of course not."
It doesn't take long for Danny to fall asleep. McGarrett takes out his phone and searches the name Jeffrey Anderson. He looks through the results, until his eyes land on something.
"Son of a bitch," he mutters.
So much for not doing anything stupid.
XXX
Ba ha ha! Cliffhanger! Sorry for the HUGE wait guys. Obviously my life didn't really low down any. Ugh. Thank you for all the support and kindness. I appreciate it. Hope this chapter was worth the wait! Hope to keep hearing from you!