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

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Chapter 6

While his other two employees were with Danny, Frank Curtis followed the man who carried the limp child into the small spare bedroom at the rear of the house. The one window was bolted shut but it didn't matter as he watched one small wrist get securely cuffed to the ornate bed frame. She wouldn't be going anywhere unless he arranged it. He was annoyed though when he saw the scrape on her cheek from her intentional tumble in the van.

"She's supposed to be unmarked. Especially her face." His accusing glare was returned with a steady gaze. "What happened?"

"She lost her balance and fell in the van. It couldn't be helped." Highly annoyed, Curtis shook his head and frowned. The buyer he had lined up would complain about the scratches, the resulting small bruise and would likely argue about price, but there was nothing to be done about it.

Growling under his breath, Curtis insisted on making sure his men followed his orders. Standing next to the bed, he more closely studied her mussed hair, blotchy face and rumpled clothes. Her elbow also sported a new purpling bruise and he made another dissatisfied sound in the back of his throat. Not entirely trusting what he was being told, he couldn't help asking again.

"Are you sure that she fell?"

"In the van. She lost her balance on a rough road." The mission leader was long used to Curtis's tendencies and he wasn't offended as he reconfirmed the fact. Before he stepped to the side, he lifted Becca's chin to manipulate her head a bit to see the scrape better in the light. "It's not too bad. Kids will be kids after all."

Rousing a bit from her daze, Becca breathed in and screamed when she saw the mean face looming so close over her head. Her fear only worsened when she felt the steel cuff on her wrist.

"Kasey. Kasey. Kasey. Whatever am I to do with you?" Curtis rolled his eyes when she woke to a screaming fit. Terrified, Becca shrank from Frank Curtis on her knees but turning and twisting, she could only get so far across the mattress with her bound hand.

"Enough!" She was marring the skin on her small wrist now and his loud angry shout brought her to a stunned stand-still. Repeating himself, his eyes were full of warning as she faced him on the bed. His tone continued to be angry, but he significantly lowered his voice to a slightly more reasonable level.

"Enough, I said. We're going to make a deal." Across from the bed, a row of new plush teddy bears lined the high dresser. A pretty blue dress hung from the empty closet's door knob and there was a pile of books neatly stacked next to a beautiful new doll. The bed she was on had a pretty pink, lacy duvet cover and soft pillows, but she wanted no part of any of the pretend gifts.

"Let's cut to the chase, dear. You give me what I want and just maybe, I give you something in return." She was already shaking her head as he pointed to each nice, new toy and the the blue dress." "It is a very pretty dress; and wouldn't you like to play with those nice new toys?"

"Home." Shaking her head in confusion, her voice was nearly gone as she breathed heavily and vainly tried to rid her wrist of the tight cuff. "I want to go home."

"You are going to have a new home now, dear." Almost too sweetly, Curtis patiently next purred out his demand. "I want my key, Kasey. Where did your mother hide my little silver key? Do you have it or did she hide it somewhere special? I want the key your mother stole from me for the safe deposit box at the bank in Vegas."

His voice broached no sympathy for her bewildered expression and he only seemed momentarily amused by her quick head shake. Her bottom lip trembled and she adamantly shook her head about ever seeing or being aware of a special key. "I don't know about it."

"Oh, I think you do know. Your father's life for the key. Your precious Uncle Danny's life for the key. No key and little Kasey gets to be an orphan with maybe no home at all."

"But." Her watery brown eyes widened at the threatening promises and she bucked hard to get free from the bed frame, but she only managed to make her wrist bleed. Eyeing the tender, torn skin Frank's face darkened but for his own reasons. His client wasn't going to be entirely happy but the child was obstinate.

"You're doing that to yourself, Kasey." The cuff rattled on the metal bed post it was cuffed to and she only pulled harder. His words were mean and disavowed his own responsibility. Wincing in pain, she began to cry when Frank Curtis took out his smart phone and took a very quick series of pictures of her on the pretty bed.

"No, I don't know." Completely confused, more tears spilled down her cheeks. "I want to go home!"

Making sure he liked his photographs, Curtis seemed to save them and smiled before looking up at her. "So then. You have an hour to remember where the key is, Kasey. Just one hour and after that, we decide what to do next."

"Becca." She murmured in a broken voice that fell between whispers and more frightened sobs. Tightening her face in another moment of sheer bravery, she raised her voice to his barely disguised amazement. There was suddenly a tiny spark of anger in her own eyes as they met his own.

"My name is Rebecca Anne. Rebecca." Her defiance might have been shortly staged, but Frank suddenly stopped his cross-examination by walking away.

Her soft sniffles were cut off as the room was plunged into darkness and the door slammed to be locked from the outside. The sniffles continued before they dwindled to a startling silence and he pulled an impressed face.

"She's spunky." Curtis mused, still very displeased over the marks on her face, elbow and now her wrist. "It can't be helped, I guess. And really, kids hate the dark so that alone should do something for me. One hour. Let her stew for an hour. Maybe we offer her some food too, and then I'm sure her memory will kick in. In the meantime, stay in the house while I go visit with our other guest. I haven't had a chance to welcome him personally."

Beckoning to one additional person who was sitting alone in the kitchen, Frank welcomed the other two gunmen as they returned from the small shed. "Does he know?

"Nope, he doesn't seem to know which kid we've got .. or, even if we have both. Worked out just as you wanted, boss." Curtis lifted an amused eyebrow and grinned. He knew the detective had a strong softness for children in general, but for his own daughter the stakes would be incomprehensible. The mobster remained amused as he heard the last of the tale.

"He's also denying knowledge of the key. Even with the extra bit of motivational push that you wanted us to provide - he's denying everything."

"I can't say that I'm too worried as yet." Warmly thumping his associate on the back, Frank only shrugged because he had faith one of his angles would come through for him. He turned around before leaving the house to make sure the man from the kitchen had joined him. The man was middle aged and portly, wearing glasses and very neatly dressed, he was carrying a small black leather bag which Curtis wholeheartedly approved of.

Almost skipping down the short few steps, Frank was still smiling happily. "Very good. Shall we?"

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Danny wasn't alone for very long. He blinked blearily as the door opened, the dim light bulb was pulled on by its long thin piece of rope, and Frank Curtis entered his tiny cell. A man holding what appeared to be a medical bag was in his shadow, as well as the same two gun wielding abductors. His only relief was that the little girl's cries had finally stopped; though Danny wasn't sure if that was entirely a good sign.

"I want to see the little girl. Rebecca. I know it's her. Why did you take her?" Quite uncertain about which child or if both had been taken, Danny made an educated demand through tightly clenched teeth. He watched Curtis closely for any type of reaction but the man merely smiled happily as he looked from his men to over to where Danny was sitting.

"What are you doing to her? She's scared and if you hurt her, so help me you will regret it."

"You're in no position to make any demands or threats, Detective. None whatsoever." Glancing to his small contingent, Frank grinned at the trapped man as he refused to provide any other information. His smile deepened as he watched the Five-0 detective change mental course to try something different. Frank had everything well in hand though as his plan to divide and conquer came to fruition. And as he knew, the detective was beside himself with worry for the children.

He had worked out three particular methods to obtain his objective; one of them would work. First, Kasey Pearce would be the likely owner of the precious key. He would force her to remember when and where her mother had given it to her. He would force her to disclose where it was now hidden through threats to her beloved family. Her rich Uncle and her father, if he lived, would in turn be threatened with her life as they also assisted in the quest. In the end, he would earn a pretty penny on the open market for the young girl which he intended to sell to an already interested buyer overseas.

Secondly, if the child or her family proved an honest dead-end, he had the Five-0 Detective. In conjunction with his own team, Williams' association with the FBI field office that had tracked him so relentlessly would provide yet another method to his scheme in obtaining his priceless key. One of their evidence lockers could easily hold the object. Adding the detective's life into the treacherous mix, he knew that Five-0 and the agency would do their best to deliver what he so demanded.

Thirdly and least likely to deliver was the Detective, himself. Regardless, using the children as a carrot, Curtis enjoyed toying with the man to see if he did know something of value. Any knowledge would assist him with the demands he would make of the FBI and Five-0. The Detective was most expendable in the end, however. Though now, he needed him alive until he had what he wanted in hand and it gave him a bit of fun to watch the man's cool demeanor turn to one of desperation.

"Rebecca, huh? I thought your daughter's name was Grace? Did I get that wrong?" His amusement lifted as the detective paled considerably. Curtis chuffed a happy sound as he rummaged through his pocket. His fingers connected with what he wanted, but before pulling it out of his pocket, Curits turned directly and specifically to the man Danny had leveled in the yard with an accusing tone.

"You said her name was Grace." The bruised man sniffed, rubbed again at his cut arm, and then shrugged not so apologetically. He knew the game they were playing and the reward was immediate.

"It is, boss. The other one insists she's Rebecca or .. something like that."

"You don't .. you can't." They watched his breathing change first. A rapid, near spasmodic sound coupled with a wheeze followed by a cough. The all-out panic attack came last as their captive reeled in his bindings and the chair nearly capsized from the duress being inflicted upon it. The chair actually creaked and there was a soft snap under the seat itself. The cold sweat that had beaded on Danny's forehead was now drenching his shirt as his panic finally come to an end. Torn and tragically distraught, he'd worsened the bleeding from the gunshot wound and was nearly incoherent.

"I need to see her." It was an almost inaudible plea and Danny wearily closed his eyes as Frank Curtis stood there. "You have to let me see her."

In the shed, the only sound was that of his still highly distressed breathing. But outside, the wind had picked up and the lone lightbulb was swinging in a frenetic arc. Light and dark danced behind Danny's closed eyes as the bulb swung freely; it had gotten so quiet, he finally had to look up. Frank was still staring at him and he shook his head when their eyes met.

"No. No, I don't think so. But hold that thought for me." Frank was coy as he finally pulled his smart phone out for yet another series of photographs. He grinned as the Detective squirmed in pain and unconcealed worry for the children. He could almost guess the trivial demands, desperate questions and the coming fearful responses.

"What's this about a key?" Shivering even more from pain and now shock, Danny rasped out his question. Rather than answering, Curtis pushed the man with the black bag towards where Danny sat in the chair. Kneeling down, the man calmly opened the black bag to reveal a multitude of first aid medical supplies. On top was a pair of gloves which he shoved his fingers into before pulling out surgical scissors. Though he was immobile, Danny tried to avoid the man's seeking hands. But he was fast as he cut off a section of the already torn shirt to examine and then roughly clean the bullet wound as Danny hissed and cursed in pain.

"Son of a bitch. Someone needs to teach you a damn bedside manner." Writhing, Danny gagged around the pointed sharp pressure as the man dispassionately used a caustic antiseptic and then packed the hole with gauze. It was bleeding fairly heavily from Danny's violent effort to break free, and the man tsked in disgust as he changed what he'd done for more, clean gauze.

Danny's vision sparkled with shiny flickering dots as the man investigated the through and through wound by pressing mercilessly into his side. His chest and ribs received the same rough treatment until the man was satisfied. Then, he completely ignored Danny's obvious agony as he finished by placing a pressure bandage against the entrance and exit holes.

"It's through." Ignoring Danny's muttered comment of 'brilliant', he confirmed his assessment coldly to Curtis as he got to his feet. Stripping off the blood-stained gloves, he simply tossed them near the chair without looking back. "Nothing vitals' been hit, though it hurts pretty bad as you can see. At least one rib is fractured too."

Curtis snorted at that last questioning comments. "What about the head wound? I don't doubt he's got a bad concussion." The man gestured to Danny's blood-stained hair, face and shirt. Up close, the detective's pupils were uneven and he was continuing to blink rapidly as if trying to focus.

The mobster leaned forward for a better look and shrugged. "It's not bleeding and this isn't a free clinic. Leave it. I just can't afford having him bleed out on us."

"You're going to die for this." He knew that Curtis relished his raw, emotional reaction and he tried to keep it at bay, but he was failing. Panting hard and trying to clear blurry vision, Danny's fingers were clenched so tightly into his palms, bruising marks were left in his dented skin. "There is no way you are going to get away. You're too well-known ... you can't exactly travel freely."

While he knew the time would come soon, it was obvious that Curtis didn't want him exactly dead, yet either. He also knew that his team would be well-immersed in trying to find them; someone had to at least miss Mike since it was well after dark. But his threats again fell flat when Curtis had another unexpected answer to his last promise. "I guarantee that my team is looking for you as we speak. You won't be leaving this island."

"You're mistaken on both counts, Detective. I'm already dead." The bland news took a long while to sink into Danny's brain. Curtis was all out laughing loudly now as he waited for him to realize what he'd just shared.

"Oh you didn't get the obituary? Not even a notice of the funeral? Frankly, now I'm insulted since I died about one month ago in jail. Actually, on the operating room table after I'd been shanked so very, very badly by a fellow in-mate. It took them hours to find me and then .. well .. I was barely recognizable and unable to be saved." Taking two determined steps into the shed to stand over Danny, he raised his voice to make things perfectly clear.

"No one is looking for me in particular, Detective. No one at all. And they won't be."

Curtis moved slightly to the side so the man could edge out of the way with the medical supplies. Clasping his hands warmly in front of him, he bent forward at the waist to explain each agonizing next step to Danny. He was pleased to see that the detective's eyes were shining not only from pain, but also from a rising feverish fear. "Here's what's going to happen. Between you and your exceptionally talented partner, you will deliver to me what I request."

Leering at Danny, he bounced on his toes while paging through the new images of Danny that he now had on his phone. "Your partner will be receiving proof of life and a demand that a particular key be returned to my ownership. He will have until midnight to respond or you and the children move to the next stage. That affords him just shy of four hours - which is generous, ample time - to confirm it in hand. Per my instructions, it will then be delivered it to a predefined address by courier. If he fails, you die first. After that, the fate of these precious children is quite suspect."

Danny sat there in a stunned silence. He knew exactly the fate that Curtis referred to and he became almost frantic in denial of his helplessness. Wracking his brain, he came up empty on the assets related to the old case. There was no key in what Five-0 recovered, nor any such object he could recall in the FBI's possession or something that even needed a key to be opened.

There had only been a small stash of diamonds and a flash-drive where Curtis's underground gambling clients' names and cash losses and earnings were retained. While it was true that little Kasey had been forced to take possession of the diamonds, she had not known about the thumb drive. Her mother had kept that responsibility for herself alone. Regardless of a key or what it might be used to gain access to, Danny was certain that Becca knew nothing and that such an object had never existed as part of any joint, official case assets.

"There was no key." His own voice sounded thin in the air, but Danny ground out the words definitively. "No key. No mention of a key. Nothing. What's it for?"

"That is something you have no need to know." Narrowing his eyes as Curtis's blurry face swam in front of him, Danny realized something. While it was very possible that both children had been abducted, it made more sense for the mobster to come after the former Kasey Pearce. He definitely had Rebecca and would have taken her for only one reason.

"Huh. I think I get it now. You took Rebecca because you think she either has it or knows where her mother may have hidden it." Measuring the man's response, Danny did his best to hold his gaze through his unrelenting migraine and emotional turmoil. Still trying to learn the truth about both children and praying there was only one though that almost felt wrong, Danny continued to prod and push.

"Not only did you take Rebecca Ramirez, but .. you took a cop, too." He coughed and shook his head against a rising woozy feeling.

"You don't know where it is." Danny slowly forced a wry smile despite his discomfort and fear. "You also don't know who has it … do you? You're pulling at straws. You're banking on a kid, Five-0 or the FBI? What's it for … why is it so damned special and why don't you know who really has it? If everyone thinks you're dead .. why don't you just leave while you can?"

His wise comments clearly angered Curtis who fisted his hands behind his back. "The key, Detective. Regardless of what I think or what it's for, if I don't get what I want then I suggest you begin your goodbyes to your daughter .. as well as your life."

"What are you going to do if none of us has it?" Struggling to control his emotions, Danny pushed harder and won the odd, sad victory because to that, there was no answer. It would be a lose-lose situation for everyone. Plunged once more into darkness, Danny's eyes welled with unshed tears as the door clicked shut to the shed and the lock solidly sounded once more.

Beginning to rub his wrists raw, Danny diligently tugged and strained against the ties on his wrists. The chair shuddered and began to creak in response as something else snapped under its seat. The crack was loud and the chair frame wobbled. Ignoring the sharp ache in his side and pushing through a weak dizziness, he fought to get free. Not for himself, but for Rebecca and the very strong niggling doubts about his own Grace.

He had learned more than he knew before. But the man was a lunatic and unless help arrived or he could find a way to escape, there would only be one end game for himself or the children. Danny could almost accept being expendable - key or no key, he was nothing in the equation. But he resolutely refused to allow either his own daughter or Rebecca Anne Ramirez to be used by Frank Curtis for personal gain as part of a child trafficking ring.

~ to be continued ~