I do not own Hawaii Five-0 or any characters. No copyright infringement intended.

Notes: sorry, this is a mean-spirited chapter but the bad guys are really bad. :-(

* H50 * H50 * H50 * H50 * H50 *

Chapter 3

The four men were pleased with the ease of their success and they silently congratulated each other as two sat watch in the back of the old modified Ford Econoline van. The only seats that remained in the vehicle were for driver and one passenger. Any back seats had long been torn out and disposed of. The floor was a ruined mess of old, stained carpet and hard rusted metal. The side panel and rear windows were darkly tinted and while Becca could almost see outside, it was a certainty that no one could see in. The air conditioning didn't work and the passenger had rolled his window down only halfway as they sped away just a hairs breadth above the speed limit.

Their masks and much of their black bulky clothing had also been removed and shoved into one large duffel bag in the back. Everyone was over-heated, but their moods were high. Their guns remained at the ready though should their captives try something or if the police inadvertently made their presence known. From their demeanor however, it was obvious the men were not all that concerned about either scenario actually coming to fruition.

The bound detective was unconscious and breathing harshly through the blood that welled in his mouth from a split lip and gouged cheek. Viciously pistol-whipped, the skin along his cheekbone was torn and a nasty head wound was bleeding freely. Rocking and jolting to the vehicle's movement, he moaned every so often as the driver hit a rut in the road or made too fast of a turn. Their route through the streets and on the highway was intentionally circuitous. Taking longer than needed, they had a number of planned confusing routes to take in order to get to their final destination.

The man in the passenger seat was the clear leader of the group and he looked over his shoulder before tapping the closest on the shoulder. His rude nod demanded a change and the one man roughly kicked Danny over with his boot so he lay on his side. As blood ran out of his mouth versus down the back of his throat, Danny's breathing altered to sound slightly better and he coughed spasmodically though didn't awaken. If he did show signs of rousing, the leader had a syringe in his pocket that would immediately put him out again.

When they glared at her, Becca shuddered in fear as she shrank back into the rear corner. Overly quiet, she was also swaying in time to the motion of the large van. The men were not impressed by the large watery brown eyes staring back at them in her stunned, pale face. They ignored her quiet murmurs for her father and the fact that she was feeling ice-cold despite the humidity in the van, scarcely breathing, and shaking so very badly from shock.

In her own little world, Becca was deafened by what had just occurred. They had removed their masks and she clearly saw their faces and their mouths moving. One man sitting near her had a cut on his cheek and a bad bruise on his chin. He was also angrily checking out a deep bloody streak on his arm while the other two seemed to make fun of him. Deep down, she assumed that she should hear or feel something when her shoulder banged hard up against the metal van wall; but she was numb to everything around her.

Time ticked by as Becca stared back at them while eventually trying to force her petrified mind to work. "Call 911." Whispered somewhere in her consciousness and she shook her head in confusion.

"Aunt Ellen. She should call Aunt Ellen … or, Uncle Ponch. She should try and run away." Wearily, her eyes dropped down from the face of the closest man who was leering at her. She looked at her tightly bound hands that rested and bounced limply in her lap to the jostling of the van. Her cell phone was in her back pocket but she couldn't reach it easily and even if she could, they would see her.

Sound slowly eked back into her brain and she began to take note of more things. The van was an older model and the she was huddled up against the dirty spare tire. Some rubbish littered the dirty floor and she stared blankly for a minute at the one large duffel bag that held their discarded clothing. They were all hot and down to more comfortable t-shirts as they sped away. Eying the ever-present guns though, Becca swallowed hard in fear.

"Call for help. Do something." She coached herself over and over while the men relaxed. Slowly, as the driver went over ruts and holes in the road, Becca came up with a tiny idea when she felt her cell phone's small outline between her jeans pocket and the old spare tire. Her father had kiddingly told her that he could always track her down through the phone. But it hadn't been a joke and he had played with her once at the mall. Separating for a few minutes, he had joyously found her hiding by the ice cream shop waggling his own phone in her face with the glowing red dot.

She was the red dot and her eyes flicked nervously back up to the gunmen and then down to Danny. The parental watchdog application had made her laugh at that time. It was cool and fun, and because she had been alone so long before being reunited with him, she liked the idea since it kept them closer throughout their days. But now, she was positive that hadn't exactly been a funny game and Becca made a decision. It was only a matter of time before they found the cell phone on her. They would take it, break it and she would get into a great deal of trouble. So, if her father or Uncle Ponch could use it to find her, it would be safer to leave it in the van.

Her little pockets weren't that deep and the phone was peeking out the top. The men hadn't looked for it or seen it and Becca decided to use the motion of the moving vehicle to her advantage. On each heavy rocking thud, she rubbed her jeans pocket on the tire to shift the cell phone up higher and eventually it moved. It took a long time, but she got it to the lip of her pocket where it precariously balanced as if stuck in a small bit of fabric.

Biting her lip and with tears filling her eyes because she had to be brave, Becca waited until the driver swerved heavily to over-exaggerate her tumble on the hard van floor. She felt the empty space as a faint clatter near the tire made her involuntarily flinch, but none of the bad men seemed to hear it.

With a growl of anger, the man with the bruised face grabbed the neck of her t-shirt to set her firmly back in the corner up against the same tire. "What's your problem? Sit there!"

She had bruised her cheek and one elbow, but the man's unexpected violence brought on her fear to make her cry harder. She crouched back down before understanding that the tiny device was wedged under the tire and the van's wall. Too afraid to be happy about her success, Becca hugged her bound hands to her chest and closed her eyes.

The little girl was their true objective, followed by the Five-0 detective. Tossed to the floor of the van, the child sat next to the detective on the hard metal floor with tears running down her cheeks. She had been equally bound with hands in front and thoroughly frightened into silence. The men had done their jobs exactly as practiced and their boss would be pleased. Even shooting the child's father had been a clear part of the plan to demonstrate their intent and power before particular demands were made.

They drove for a long time and Becca almost dozed in the heat of the van until they left the smooth road for a rough, bumpy ride through a pitted field and then on to a long dirt trail that climbed higher and higher into the jungle.

Utterly lost and unable to stop trembling, Becca slowly cuddled up to Danny's back with a watchful eye on their captors. Every so often, she glanced to make sure her cell phone was still gently rocking up against the side wall. She was secretly happy when she could barely see it in the van as the afternoon wore on and dusk began to fall.

"Uncle Danny?" She tried to whisper but quickly closed her mouth when one man immediately turned her way.

"No talking." It was the same man who had pushed her back into the corner and she obeyed the command. Now half-conscious, Danny was rolling around aimlessly and unable to protect himself. Every terrible pitted hole made him moan and his face was slick with sweat and pain.

His mumbles grew louder and the leader got up from the passenger seat to squeeze into the space. Fearfully, Becca watched him pull the protective tip off the syringe with his teeth. Too quickly for her to move out of the way, he reached down and jabbed the needle into Danny's bare bicep. The strong sedative stopped the agitated movements and seconds later, he grew quiet again.

When they didn't try to stop her, Becca stayed where she had been and tried to use her own small body to stabilize him before laying her head on his shoulder. She closed her eyes trying to comfort herself with at least his closeness, to only cry more.

It was just sunset when they arrived and only a few lights shown from the oddly beautiful home. Dozing heavily by then, Becca yelped in surprise when she was yanked violently from Danny's side and pulled towards the front door which opened to reveal only a large, imposing silhouette.

Looking over her shoulder, one man now had the duffel bag, but there was no light in the van and her cell phone remained hidden. Her scream distracted them all when the two biggest men unceremoniously hauled Danny out of the van and in an entirely different direction. He was still unconscious and never heard her shrieks as they dragged him away.

"No! Uncle Danny! No!" She screamed and screamed as one man bodily picked her up and once through the front door, Danny disappeared from her sight.

She was left rocking unsteadily on her feet as she was presented to the large silhouette who seemed most pleased to see her finally in his presence. When he stepped in front of the light, she nearly tripped over her own two feet she backed up so quickly. He laughed happily when her eyes widened in a fearful recognition. Step one was complete and he rubbed his hands together in anticipation as he bent down closer to her level.

"Hello, Kasey. I missed you, dear." The man's smile suddenly faded with a treacherous leer as he looked from her to the leader of the mission who so tightly gripped her small arm. She tried to run then in a panic but flinched and then mewled in fear when the strong fingers spasmed to leave painful bruises. Held firmly in place, knees weakening and beginning to hyperventilate, she had nowhere to go as he leaned even closer.

"Welcome home, Kasey. We have a lot to talk about." With his sarcastic welcome and one look at the fury in his face, Becca felt the walls close in around her and she fainted dead away to the floor.

~ to be continued ~