Mirror
Chapter Six

"You're the one who kept on pushing 'til I made you bleed."
-Disturbed

Steve's dark blue Silverado chewed up the pavement between Queens Medical Center and the address Duke had given Kono. Chin had continually tried both Kono's and Danny's phones as they traveled, hoping against hope that one of them would answer and give some dumb excuse as to why they'd been out of contact. He wanted nothing more than to be able to tell Danny that both Amber and Grace were safe and would stay that way, especially with Grover acting as guard dog.

As they turned off the main road and found themselves moving further and further into the forest, Chin and Steve exchanged a worried look. The possibility that this was a trap for Danny – and Kono had been dragged along inadvertently – was growing more and more likely. Neither of them wanted to think it, but since the possibility had first been broached, it had grown to become nearly the only plausible explanation.

Steve deftly maneuvered the truck down the narrow driveway, frowning as they pulled up to the house. Empty and quiet, it looked as if no one had even set foot near it recently. He parked haphazardly and stepped from the truck as Chin did the same on the passenger side. Still frowning, Steve pulled his semi-automatic rifle from the truck and quietly pushed the door closed. Over the hood, he looked at Chin, brow furrowed. "We'll both go in the front."

Chin nodded and fell into step behind Steve, shotgun pointed at the ground, as the commander jogged up to the front door. Chin placed himself on one side of the door as Steve tested the knob. When it turned under his hand, he glanced at Chin an d nodded once – then pushed the door open after Chin echoed the nod.

Chin brought his weapon up and moved diagonally across Steve. Fading light streamed in through the windows; both Chin and Steve wanted to get this taken care of and get Danny and Kono home before the night set in. Dust coated what little furniture was left in the front sitting room and it looked as if nothing had been disturbed. As Chin moved toward the kitchen, Steve made his way down the hallway to clear the bedrooms and bathrooms.

The sight of the back door brought Chin up short. Weapon still up, he approached what was left of the door, mouth set into a thin, hard line at the sight of the splintered door and the debris strewn across the back landing. Chin pressed a hand against his earpiece. "Steve, kitchen." Upon Steve's acknowledgment, Chin turned away from the evidence of foul play and moved to the door leading to the garage.

Before opening the door, he switched on the light attached to the barrel of his gun, and then swung the door open quickly, letting the barrel of the shotgun lead the way into the garage. Stark light from the torch on his weapon harshly illuminated familiar red sheet metal. Chin let the light dance across the Cruze, then on into the corners of the dusty garage. Scuff marks in the dust spoke to recent movement here. Chin let a soft curse pass his lips.

"Chin?" Steve called from the kitchen.

He left the garage door open as he stepped back into the kitchen, turning off the flashlight in disgust. Steve was staring at the splintered door, his brows drawn together and lips set into a hard line. "Trap," was all he said.

Chin nodded. "Kono's car is in the garage."

The same curse Chin had allowed himself echoed from Steve's lips. For a moment, they both stood there in the dusty, dim kitchen, both sinking into despairing thoughts. Then Steve moved abruptly, running gloved fingers over the edges of the door frame. He settled his open hand against what was left of the door and shook his head.

"Low-level explosive," he said. "Not much more than a flash grenade. Definitely meant to surprise. Most likely did minimal damage."

"It's not the bomb I'm worried about," Chin returned. He had his phone in hand and dialed a familiar number. "I'm calling for CSU up here. We need to process this place."

Steve nodded thoughtfully and pushed through the ruined door. Grass was trampled here, pushed into the ground as if someone had turned abruptly on their heel – and then had fallen. He could almost see it: Kono and Danny may have separated; spurred on by thoughts of Grace in danger, they may have wanted to cover more ground initially and come in from opposite sides of the house. Steve and Chin hadn't, if only because they had been gone into this situation with the idea of a trap firmly emblazoned in their minds. If one had been surprised by the small explosive on the door, the other would have been put into an untenable position. Steve knew full well that neither Danny or Kono would put the other in jeopardy, if one were threatened. Just like he would have done – just like Chin – whoever had remained standing would have willingly disarmed themselves.

Chin came up behind him, gaze falling on the open gate leading to the side yard. "What are you thinking, Steve?"

Steve pointed at the door, half-turning toward the debris in the yard. "They might have split off, front and back. I can't be sure, but either way one of them was definitely surprised by this thing." He motioned toward the trampled grass. "Somebody fought."

Chin frowned, eyeing the grass. "If someone got a gun against Danny's head, Kono would have dropped her weapon."

"Danny would have done the same," Steve said.

Another pause. "The only vehicle here is Kono's" Chin pointed out.

"I saw tracks in the drive," Steve answered. "Maybe CSU can get us something from those." He rubbed his cheek, frowning thoughtfully. "There's are traffic cameras on the main road. Whichever way they turned down there, it's on camera. Could be the same vehicle that transported that barrel."

"I'll focus on vehicles big enough to carry that. Most likely enclosed, if they're using it to transport a couple of cops. A van or similar," Chin said. The shotgun shifted in his hands and he worried his lip. "I don't think Danny or Kono ever got into this place."

Steve nodded. "Aside from the back door and the garage, this place is undisturbed. Someone was waiting for them." He tapped his fingers against the butt of his rifle, gaze far away. That he was worried was clearly broadcasted: the lines of his body were taut, hands fairly trembling in a need to move, to leap into action somehow and somewhere. His gaze was hard, his mouth pressed thin, jaw tight. Chin echoed his stance, feet shoulder-width apart, hands tightly holding the shotgun.

And then suddenly Steve was moving, striding toward the open gate. Chin followed close behind. "Chin, what about the tip called in?"

"About Grace?" Chin asked, nearly jogging to keep up with Steve's long strides. "What about it?"

"What about a vocal match? Can we run down whoever made that call using that recording?"

"Maybe." Chin's voice was uncertain, his brow furrowed. "Unless we had something to compare it to already, it may not do us much good."

"But we have some vocal samples in the system, don't we?" Steve glanced at Chin. "It's a longshot, but if we've picked up any of these guys before, they'd be in the system. We've done enough drug busts, picked up enough dealers and muscle that it's possible these guys are already in our system."

"It might be enough," Chin said, voice gaining confidence. "It just might be."

Steve turned to face Chin. In the distance, they could both hear sirens cutting through the dimming light. "If we get one name, Chin – one goddamned name – we can run him down."

"I don't think they liked my answers." Danny's voice was rasping, his eyes closed as he leaned back against the wall. Blood collected at the corner of his mouth, oozed over a split lip, and streamed down his chin to drip onto his collar. He sat slumped to the right, favoring the shoulder on his cuffed side. Despite the raw bleeding wounds there, Kono's fingers wrapped about his wrist. As he had done for her earlier, her fingers settled against his pulse point, carefully cataloging a somewhat fast but steady beat.

"Well," Kono said, trying to sound wry but falling far short, "you were a bit of a smartass about that whole thing."

Danny rolled his head toward her, one eye fluttering to half-mast as he answered. "Whose side are you on?"

She snorted at that, then carefully moved to her knees, taking care not to jostle their joined wrists. It took some deliberate movement, but she knelt at his side, her cuffed arm pulled across her body and her free hand cupping Danny's chin. He raised a brow at her.

"Humor me," she said. Her fingers danced over his jaw, then into his hair behind his ear. (He'd taken a hit there; it had him dancing on the edge of unconsciousness for a few terrible moments.) "That's a bump."

"So I noticed," he answered. "I'm fine."

She snorted again. "Liar." Her hand skimmed over his side. "Ribs?"

"Not broken." He sighed as she pulled her hand back. "I'm good."

Kono sat back on her heels. Her fingers beat a staccato against her knee. "Not for long. They'll be back soon." As Danny finally opened both eyes, she looked at the pipe that ran the height of the wall. "Do you think we could..." She rattled the cuffs lightly.

Danny followed her gaze. "It's been pretty sturdy so far." But he grunted, getting to his knees. He curled over sore ribs, took a few deep breaths, and slowly pushed himself to his feet. Kono moved right along with him, her hand never falling from his wrist. He raised a brow at her, taking in the scrapes on her forearms and hands, the bruises blossoming on her collar and jaw. She had fought wickedly to try to protect him, which had Danny's heart both swelling in gratitude and pride – and breaking into a million sharp pieces, that she had been put into such a position. "I'm not falling apart, Kono."

Her grin was lopsided. "Just returning the favor."

His lips quirked and he turned his attention to the pipe. "We've been putting a lot of pressure on this thing. If there's a weak spot, we've probably hit it pretty hard already."

Kono nodded and finally let go of Danny's wrist to run her hands over the pipe. The men had left them alone only a handful of minutes ago; neither were under the illusion that they had a good amount of time to work within here. Above their heads, they heard stomping footsteps and both looked upward abruptly as voices were raised. "Not much time," Danny whispered urgently.

If they came back down into the basement with a temper...

Well, that wasn't something either of them wanted to think about.

"Danny." Kono's voice was just as urgent, underpinned by a thread of genuine excitement. Her hand was just above her head. "There's a crack in the pipe."

He moved around to her side and his grin, for all that it was predatory, was finally genuine. He tested the pipe, blowing out a relieved sigh when the thin metal gave at the crack. He glanced at Kono, who nodded, eyes shining with confidence. One good hit and maybe they could at least maneuver a bit. That's all they needed; one good hit to go their way. Maybe it was too much to ask, considering how their luck had gone so far but hell if they were going to just lay down and die down here.

Besides, Danny really needed to get up those steps and out of this house. The walls were starting to do that thing where it felt like they were falling in on him. In fact, he had to close his eyes for a moment, mouth moving – Grace is safe. Amber's okay. Steve's got this.

"Danny?" Kono's voice was soft enough that they both hear the footsteps above. Her fingers curled around his. "Hey."

He took a breath and opened his eyes, looking straight at her and nothing else. "I'm good." '

"Like hell," she said. "You know the boss isn't going to let go of this until it's done."

"I'm counting on it." There were raised voices upstairs; Danny couldn't make out the words but the tone certainly gave him a pretty good idea that something wasn't going these guys' way. He glanced upward, wincing a bit. "What do you want to bet they're talking about something Steve did?"

"I'm counting on it," Kono returned, eyes bright and lips curled. Danny wondered if she knew how absolutely predatory she could look. Despite the fight shining in her eyes, her hand on his was gentle. "We're getting out of here. Grace is going to be fine. So is Amber."

Danny returned her steady gaze, finding an anchor there. Kono was rock-solid, always had been. "The, uh. The walls are kinda closing in a bit." It was something of an answer: he was trying so very hard to believe what she said. He had to hang on to that hope. It was all he had down here – but he was also staring into an abyss.

She blinked at him, expression falling into sympathy and concern, before she shrugged one shoulder. "Then it's about time we got out of here."

"You said it, doll."

Footsteps echoed again, this time taking a familiar path to the door at the top of the steps. The door opened, but this time it wasn't sunlight that streamed through the dim light. Nearly a whole day had passed; Danny frowned at the realization.

No, he wasn't going to spend another night in uncertainty. Kono's hand tightened around his for a single moment. He brought their hands down and away from the crack in the pipe; no sense drawing attention to it until they were ready. He caught her eye before turning to face the men coming down the stairs. She nodded once and their hands remained joined.

One good hit.

The guy who reminded Danny of McGarrett – and Steve would probably have a few words to say if Danny ever copped to that – lead the way down the stairs and didn't stop until he was in front of Danny. The beefier man – no less tall but definitely wider and more muscular – didn't hesitate to shove Kono back against the wall. She didn't fight it this time, but her expression promised retribution. Danny squeezed her hand. Wait.

A hand fisted in Danny's collar and he was shoved backward, too. His back hit the wall; he tensed, trying to keep his feet gathered under him. If they were going to fight back this time, he needed to be able to find some leverage. Bad enough he was cuffed and trapped against a wall. Leverage was already something he'd have to fight for and this guy wasn't going to make it easy.

The man's forearm came up and pushed against Danny's neck. It had been a tried and true tactic so far and, while uncomfortable, Danny could put up with this all day. He could even handle the talking. A few hits here and there were fine. He could deal with it. It was when Kono started fighting back and taking hits of her own that Danny lost it a little bit. Usually, he could compartmentalize a little better than that, but there were moments when he looked in Kono's direction during all this and he'd see a flash of an old partner, her expression quietly afraid and determined and hopeful.

And all he could see was reliving that horrible moment that Grace Tillwell died with Kono – then finding out that while he watched Kono die, Steve hadn't been able to rescue Amber and his own daughter was long gone, like Matty, dead before he'd been able to even think of saving her.

Those thoughts kept him still as the forearm pushed into his throat, as the man's other hand grabbed his jaw, fingers digging into flesh painfully. "The money," he hissed. "You waltzed into that bar, killed them all, and walked away with eighteen and a half million. Did you think we wouldn't come for it?" His fingers dug in further, then he pulled abruptly away.

Danny worked his jaw. "What money?"

The man's hand palmed his forehead and rocked his head back into the concrete wall. Stars exploded behind Danny's eyes and he went momentarily limp before finding his feet – and his circling thoughts – again. His gaze cut to Kono. She stood against the wall, stoically putting up with Beefy's paws all over her. Where she had been fighting against the hold earlier, she stood still. Waiting. Tense. Fairly trembling in her desire to move. Danny grabbed her hand tightly.

The man pulled his hand back in disgust and it gave Danny just enough room to maneuver. Kono adjusted her grip, her hand curling tightly around Danny's wrist and he spared a thought to be glad she was thinking the same thing that he was. The chain on the cuffs might break but, while this might hurt, his wrist would hold up better under the assault. They moved in tandem, not just simply trying to punch their way free, but shoving off from the wall and putting everything they had behind that one good hit.

Danny's wrist slammed against the pipe, propelled by both Danny's own movement and Kono's shove. He wasn't sure if it was him or the pipe that cracked but something definitely gave. It wasn't until he stumbled forward that he realized that the pipe gave before his wrist did. Good thing, that. Careful not to throw Kono off-balance, Danny balled his left fist and threw a wicked punch toward Not-McGarrett's face. Beside him, Kono used Danny as a bastion, holding tightly to his shoulder while she planted a knee in Beefy's groin – and then an elbow into his temple when he doubled over.

When he dropped, she turned her attention to Not-McGarrett, who was still reeling from Danny's punch to the cheek. Kono went for his knees while Danny hit him again, this time square on the bridge of his nose. He dropped with a grunt, a hand going toward the knee that Kono had slammed her boot into. Danny didn't give him time to think about his knee; as soon as he was in range of his foot, Danny kicked him, heel striking his temple and rendering him unconscious almost immediately.

Danny almost brought himself down with that one, but caught himself as he stumbled forward, his left hand pressing against aching ribs. He glanced at his right wrist, wincing at the welt there as pain made itself known. Worth it, though.

Kono knelt next to Beefy, hands patting through pockets until she found something useful. Grinning up at Danny, she pulled out a phone. Perfect. "They're unarmed," she said. Probably smart; didn't want their prisoners to get their hands on a weapon, after all.

"Out," Danny rasped. "Then call McGarrett and tell him to get his ass over here."

But she was already on it, dialing as they stumbled toward the stairs – and hoping against hope that no one else was up there.

TBC

Author's Note: Pneumonia sucks and so does recovering from pneumonia. I'm sorry I've slowed down a bit with posting. That's mostly a by-product of being insanely exhausted after work lately. I hope you're all still enjoying this.