A/N: Short chapter, sorry. Thanks for reviews and follows! Y'all are awesome!
A/N: Warning: contains whump
Leaving Steve behind was quite possibly one of the hardest things Danny had ever done. Not hard like his move to Hawaii and the prolonged custody fight with Rachel- that was a different kind of hard. And not hard like the insanely long hike he and Steve had taken last year on Maui. No, this was hard like giving Grace the keys to the car and watching her drive away with the knowledge that she was mature and old enough to make good decisions, but being left with the lingering worry that some maniac on the highway would kill her anyway.
Danny was not worried about Steve; Danny was worried about the others in the building, the terrorists or black ops team or whoever they were, and what they might do to Steve. Still, he understood teamwork and responsibility and he knew Five-0 had a responsibility to get the governor out safely. Steve, as his boss, had kindly delegated that task to him, and the likelihood of him fulfilling that duty diminished with each second that he delayed, so when Steve locked the door, Danny knew the time had come. Pushing the governor ahead of him, he covered his mouth with one arm and tried not to breathe as they reached the smoke-clogged staircase leading down to the lobby.
The first fire trucks pulled into the lot as Danny stumbled out the front doors and into the parking lot, coughing as he tried to beat the acrid smoke out of his clothes. The lobby had been full of the foul-smelling stuff, and his throat burned and eyes watered as he doubled over on the front steps and tried to catch his breath. Behind him, firemen rushed into the building as the rest of the occupants ran in the other direction toward the fresh air of the lawn. Danny tried to follow, but his body, rebelling against the abuse to his lungs, doubled over, leaving him gasping for breath.
Vaguely, he heard the governor saying something, but Danny wasn't able to respond. Reduced to a raspy wheeze, he coughed and choked as someone grasped him under the arm and led away from the building. There, in a clear area under a tree, he finally tasted air that wasn't tainted with whatever the heck was burning inside.
"Detective?"
Danny thrust a hand out and fumbled in his pocket until his fingers finally closed over the inhaler. Pushing it into his mouth, he took a deep breath.
"Any better?" The governor, still holding his arm as though Danny might fall over any minute, peered into the detective's red eyes with concern. "I didn't know you suffered from asthma."
"I… don't…" Danny panted. "Just… temporary."
"Is there something I should know?" Denning asked.
"Chinese mobsters," was all Danny said.
"Uh huh. I look forward to reading that report," the governor said drily. "But you don't sound too good, detective. Why don't you go get checked out? Ambulances just arrived." He pulled gently in the direction of the nearest bus where the EMTs were already helping the first victims of smoke inhalation.
"I'm fine," Danny said shortly. It was bad enough that the man he was supposed to be protecting was instead protecting him. "Sir, where's your security detail?"
"My driver is over there," Denning pointed to a black SUV parked under a grove of banyan trees at the edge of the lot.
"Okay, good." Feeling well enough to walk and shoot straight, Danny finally straightened up and checked his weapon. The sooner Denning was safe, the sooner he could start working to rescue Steve. "Let's go."
…
"Detective Williams?"
Breaking away from the television screen at the command post, Danny turned to see a tall, broad-shouldered man with short-cropped hair escorted by a young HPD officer. "That's me," he replied sticking out his hand. "Who are you?"
"Colonel Thule, US Army Cyber Division. I received your message and came as soon as I could."
Danny sized him up. "I'm guessing that you two met during his little adventure over the barbed wire yesterday?" he guessed and the man nodded. Danny gestured at the Palace across the lawn on the other side of the police-tape perimeter. "He's still in there. Said some elite military group disguised as firefighters are after him and that you would understand whatever the heck that meant."
The colonel frowned. "Unfortunately, yes. I've also heard there have been gunshots from the second floor. Have you had any contact with him?"
Danny chewed his bottom lip and frowned in concern. "Not since I left the building."
"Did he give you anything?"
Danny gave the man a quizzical look. "No. Was he supposed to?"
The man shrugged.
…
The smoke in the hallway rapidly thickened into a heavy, white screen, but the rubber seal around the office doors held and Steve only caught a whiff now and then of the stinging gas. From the smell, he guessed the attackers mixed tear gas with what seemed to be smoke grenades and possibly a trashcan fire or two. The 'fire', a ruse to allow access to the building, posed no danger to him, so he deliberately took time in his preparations, knowing that his actions in the next few minutes just might save his life.
First, his own equipment. He checked his body armor was strapped on securely, donned a gas mask, and loaded his pockets with an assortment of weapons and miscellaneous items that Danny would heartily disapprove of. Then he turned his attention to the horse. Nervous and sensing the as-yet-unseen danger, she skittered away from him before finally allowing him to stroke her neck and run his fingers through her mane. He needed a safe place for her and quickly decided that the break room would be the best location under the circumstances. As best as he could, he guided her into her new home and barricaded the doorway with a large table.
He failed to notice dark shapes gathering in the hallway outside, their images masked to a dark grey by the heavy smoke. Hearing a slight noise, he turned around as a black canister was chucked through the through and bounced across the floor toward him.
Steve barely had time to register what it was.
The next moment, his world exploded in a blinding flash of light and a deafening bang.
…
Danny winced and ducked his head as an ear-shattering blast suddenly blew out several windows on the second floor of the building. Peering cautiously above the hood of the truck, he watched as firefighters began to run out of the building and streamed across the lawn toward the emergency vehicles.
"This 'thing' that the terrorists want," he asked slowly, "how important is it?"
The colonel pressed his lips together grimly. "Detective, let me put it this way: the 'thing' has the potential to change this nation in some very bad ways. The consequences of it falling into the wrong hands would be severe. Life here, as you know it, would likely never be the same."
"That bad huh?" Danny glanced around at the SWAT team that had arrived and were setting up just inside the perimeter on the Palace grounds. "What are the chances Steve is still alive in there?"
"Very good," Colonel Thule replied, much to Danny's surprise. "They'll want to torture him for the location of the item, so they need him alive until either he breaks or they find it."
"That's not really comforting."
"Yes, well, hopefully he's hidden it well. If we're lucky, he can buy himself enough time for us to get inside and rescue him before they kill him."
"Yeah, that's not exactly helping," Danny muttered.
…
Steve fell to the ground as the horse reared in terror. Blinded and temporarily paralyzed by the noise, he yelled in pain and surprised when the horse kicked him in the thigh before bolting to another part of the office. Rolling over, he reached instinctively for his sidearm, but it wasn't there- it had somehow come loose and slid and across the floor. Unable to see and barely able to hear, he tried to crawl in the direction of his office, but he had barely pulled himself forward a few feet when a pair of black combat boots appeared in front of him.
"…?"
Steve shook his head groggily. A high-pitched ringing filled his ears and he couldn't make out what was being asked. Someone ripped the gas mask from his face and he immediately coughed as the potent tear gas stung his lungs.
"...!" the voice demanded again.
Steve clenched his hands, preparing for a fight. As he braced himself to jump up, something solid connecting with his back and he fell forward with a grunt.
A boot slipped under his ribs and flipped him onto his back. Steve lay still on the floor, hands raised as he squinted at the men surrounding him.
How many were there? Steve tried to reconcile the doubled shapes that flickered through his hazy vision. Someone seized him by the vest and pulled him to his feet, but his right leg suddenly wouldn't take his weight. Gasping, Steve shifted to his left and squinted at the closest dark shape hovering before him.
The man had discarded his fireman's jacket but the gas mask remained. Black, curly hair sprouted around the mask and a dark tattoo crawled up his neck. Steve squinted, trying to make out the design, but his eyes wouldn't quite focus. Russian, Steve guessed, but who? Mafia or military?
The men had brought the smoke with them when they entered, and a thick haze began to collect on the floor near the unsealed door. It wasn't bad, yet, but Steve's eyes itched unpleasantly and he felt a sudden urge to cough.
The man in front of him tapped his face. Steve realized he had missed a question. "What?" he asked hoarsely. His voice sounded strangely muffled in his own ears.
"Where is it?" the man asked in a heavily-accented voice.
"Where is what?" Steve squinted at the blurry man.
A sharp blow caught his right cheek. It stung, but Steve knew it was barely a tap to what would follow. "The USB drive," the man growled. Grasping Steve's face tightly in his gloved hand, he gave it a little shake, a not-so-subtle warning. "Where is the USB drive?"
"I don't know what you're talking about."
The next blow landed on his lower ribs, knocking the air from his lungs. The two men behind Steve caught him as he stumbled, and he hung limply for a moment before convincing his body to right itself. In front of him, the leader paced grimly.
"You don't know?"
"No."
"If you don't know what it is, then I have no more use for you."
A gun was cocked and pressed against his temple. Steve flinched as the cold metal touched his skin.
"Last chance: do you know where the thumb drive is?" the man asked again.
"No."
The man fired.
…
… potentially dangerous situation at Iolani Palace this afternoon. Reports of gunfire have come in from the south side of the building with witnesses saying the shots seem to be coming from the second floor. Firefighters have pulled back from the building and are now attempting to put out the fire from the outside with hoses while they wait for SWAT to arrive and assess the situation. Their concern? That ammunition inside the Five-0 headquarters may be affected by the heat of the flames…
Danny pulled himself away from the screen as the camera pulled back for another wide-angled shot of the Palace with smoke pouring from the broken windows. Of the hundreds of people gathered on the lawn and the grass outside, he guessed that only a handful knew the actual situation and the true danger that awaited anyone who entered. He might not be 'read in' on the entire situation, but he at least knew part of it.
The colonel appeared to be busy with preparations of his own, which Danny hoped would result in action sooner rather than later, but so far no such luck. His own offers to help had been met with cold denial and an order to go check in with the governor instead. Danny wasn't in the army, so he knew the man had no authority over him, but he figured he could use the opportunity to reconnoiter and took his time wandering across the grounds to the governor's motorcade.
The colonel, acutely aware of the risk of civilian casualties, had convinced HPD to extend the perimeter around the building, but in Danny's mind, the increased radius wasn't nearly enough. Photo-hungry tourists crowded against the yellow tape and an array of news and camera vans gathered in the barricaded street, all potential victims of the terrorists inside.
He'd quietly suggested that the ruse of a gas leak be used to pull everyone back another block and he could only hope that Thule was humble enough to accept his advice.
"…but probably not," he muttered. "Too proud to admit a civilian could do something useful." Men like Thule rubbed Danny the wrong way, but experience with Steve had taught him that all men could change. The obnoxious, self-centered, know-it-all SEAL had mellowed and matured- slightly- over the years, and Danny wouldn't trade their friendship for the world.
"You better be alive in there, SuperSEAL," he growled under his breath. "Don't die on me yet."