"She's young, she was in peak physical condition, and she's exceptionally resilient," Malia said, shaking her head at Riley's chart. "And apparently as stubborn as her big brother," she added.
Riley had been moved to a regular room, and was already badgering Malia to discharge her. They were waiting for her heart activity to return to normal, and for her electrolytes to balance out.
"Can't you just give me some Gatorade or something?" Riley asked hopefully.
"It's not quite that simple, Riley, but we can do wonders with IV fluids," Malia answered. "Speaking of which, Steven McGarrett, that poor intern was terrified that he was going to get fired. Please don't take over intravenous drug administration without permission."
"Yes, ma'am," Steve said politely, but he rolled his eyes and winked at Riley.
"I saw that," Malia said mildly, and Danny laughed at the guilty look on Steve's face.
After Malia left, Steve turned to Danny. "Anything, Danny? Any leads on WoFat?"
"Not yet, Steve, but Agent Fielding is requesting a meeting - no, wait, hear me out. Apparently Fielding is in deep shit with his superiors for losing control of both Joe White and WoFat. He may have realized that cooperation with you will yield better results," Danny said.
"I'm not interested in cooperating with the Special Activities Division," Steve gritted out.
"Babe, I know. But . . . well, technically you're Navy . . . and technically they're Navy . . . technically, you're on the same team," Danny said, apologetically.
Steve sighed. "You're right. I hate it, but you're right. Okay, we'll meet, but in my office, on my terms. He doesn't come anywhere near Riley. He's searched for wires when he comes in. And I reserve the right to throw him physically out of the building."
"That makes perfect sense," Danny agreed. "Now, why don't you go get some much needed rest, because after Fielding, you have to deal with Joe White . . . just promise you won't break anything without me. And I," Danny said, holding out a bag with a flourish, "will entertain young Riley here. I have books, snacks, music . . ."
Steve hesitated. He wasn't inclined to let Riley out of his sight any time soon.
"Steve," Danny said. "You're dead on your feet. Go, partner. Go get some rest. Go get a shower."
Steve glanced at Riley; she still looked exhausted, but her smile was genuine. It was enough to ease the tension Steve felt in leaving her. Really, who else would he trust with family more than Danny?
"Okay," he said, nodding at Danny. "I'm keeping a full security detail posted. And if anything doesn't feel right . . ."
"I know, Steve, I'll shoot first and ask questions later," Danny said, only half joking.
Steve crossed the room and bent to kiss Riley on the top of the head, tousling her hair. "I'll see you soon, kiddo; and maybe even have some answers for you."
When the door closed behind Steve, Danny turned to Riley, his eyes crinkled in a warm smile.
"Okay, sweetheart, first of all, tell me honestly, how are you feeling? Is the pain manageable? Do we need to call the nurse? I know you try to be all brave for your big brother there, but you know you don't need to do that, right?"
"I'm okay, Danny, they gave me some pretty good stuff. My hand hurts more than anything right now," she answered honestly.
Danny fussed over her hand a bit, propping it on a pillow. "Whose head did you break this on?"
"One of WoFat's lackeys," she said.
"Good girl," Danny said approvingly. "Okay, let me know if you need me to bully the nurses into more pain meds. What else is on the agenda? It's too early for lunch, how about some reading? Or TV? No -" he said, breaking off and holding up his hand to silence her protest. "No shop talk. No questions about WoFat, or Joe White . . . there will be time for that. You need to give your mind a rest, along with your body."
Riley narrowed her eyes in disappointment but then perked up. "Tell me stuff about Steve and the team," she said, settling into the pillows and blankets expectantly.
"Ah, story time," Danny said, smiling and pulling up a chair. "Well, let me tell you about the time that Steve used a grenade to blow open a door . . . although this may backfire on me, because come to think of it, Kono thought it was . . . what was the phrase, "wicked awesome", I believe . . ."
#*#*#*#*#
Steve was trained in plenty of intimidation techniques. The Navy had taught him well - years as a SEAL and in Naval Intelligence equipped him the with the knowledge and ability to use every available advantage. He knew the science behind proximity, personal space, vocabulary, the whole nine yards.
Kono was really looking forward to watching and learning some of these techniques when Agent Fielding was ushered into Five-O headquarters. Earlier that morning, she had moved her desk so that she could sit, pretending to do paperwork, and have a front row view into Steve's office. She may have, possibly, sort of hit the button on his phone that intercommed into her office when she took him a cup of coffee.
"Nice try, Kono," Steve said, waving at her as he pushed the button and walked out of his office to stand by the console table.
She saluted him with her coffee cup and shrugged. She was getting almost as good as Steve at reading lips, anyway.
The elevator ding announced the arrival of Fielding, and Steve stood impassively, watching him exit the elevator.
"McGarrett," he said, pausing at the table.
"My office," Steve said, pointing.
They entered the office and Agent Fielding started to speak. "Comman-"
"Shut up. Sit." Steve pointed at a chair, then leaned against his desk with his arms folded across his chest. Kono grinned.
Fielding puffed up, started to protest, and Steve simply stood to his full height and took one step closer to him. Fielding sat.
"Joe White is in the hospital. Under arrest for kidnapping, for starters, more charges to be filed as I see fit. Riley McGarrett is in the hospital, due to be released tomorrow, and under the protection of Five-O. Doris McGarrett and WoFat are in the wind. I want every file, every piece of information, on every single one of them, and I want it now," Steve said, his voice low and even.
"Impossible," Fielding said, his tone smug. "It's all extremely classified."
"Unclassify it," Steve said. "Read me in."
"You don't get to make that call, McGarrett."
"Commander McGarrett. And Five-O operates with full immunity and means," Steve said.
Fielding waved his hand dismissively. "On this island, and under the authority of the governor. You're a big fish in a very small pond."
"I intend to get answers, and I'll do it with or without the cooperation of you and the SAD," Steve said.
"I'll shut you down," Fielding sneered.
"No, you won't," Steve replied, his mild tone belying his deadly serious intent. "I'll make sure my people are safely employed at HPD or the agency of their choice, then I'll shut down Five-O, go underground, go rogue, and take everyone down with me - Joe White, WoFat, you . . . you'll never see me coming and you won't be able to stop me."
Steve glanced at Kono's office as she dropped the stapler she'd been pretending to use and was staring at him, her eyes wide. He smothered a grin as he questioned the wisdom of encouraging her to learn to read lips.
"You'll never get to the SAD," Fielding said, waving his hand dismissively.
"Who said anything about the SAD? I'll come after you, Fielding. Just you," Steve said.
"You're threatening me," Fielding said. It almost came out as a whine.
"I'm explaining one option. The other option is that I get the SAD's cooperation in taking down WoFat," Steve said.
"That will never happen. He is of vital concern to the SAD and the CIA," Fielding replied smoothly. "But, we'll give you Joe White to do with what you please," he added.
Steve stared at him. "Typical. You'll protect the international criminal, but you'll throw one of your own under the bus."
"The interests of one individual never outweigh the cause of the greater good," Fielding said.
Steve grit his teeth. He'd heard Riley say the same thing, as she dismissed her own pain and mistreatment as if it were nothing. He needed to wrap this meeting up before he lost his temper completely and Fielding left his office in a body bag.
"What if I want to prosecute Joe White to the full extent of the law? Let him rot in a Navy brig?" Steve ground out.
Fielding shrugged. "Makes no difference to us. You think the SAD and CIA doesn't have the resources to carry out our initiative if one of our agents turns against us? Joe White could, and probably will, tell you every single thing he knows. It will barely slow us down."
"Joe is mine, then," Steve said. "And make no mistake, I will take down WoFat. If you and your agency come down in the process, that will be icing on the cake."
Fielding stood to leave, and hesitated in the door to Steve's office. "Commander McGarrett," he said, in the first reasonably human tone of voice Steve had ever heard him use. "I know this is impossible for you to believe right now, but at the heart - the Special Activities Division really does exist to protect the American people. There is a greater good, a bigger picture here than you can ever imagine. I know that on some level, you have to understand that. After all, you were willing to enlist our cooperation to rescue your sister, even though it meant letting WoFat get away."
Steve sighed. His days in Naval Intelligence had put him in some gray areas. And Fielding had a point; when push came to shove, he had gladly let WoFat walk in exchange for his sister.
"My sympathy for the cause of the greater good has worn thin, Fielding," Steve said, but his tone had softened. "The greater good has cost me too much."
"So this is about vengeance, then," Fielding stated.
"Justice," Steve corrected. Then he thought of hearing the gunshot that ended his father's life, thought of watching Jenna shot in cold blood right in front of him, thought of Riley . . .
"Yeah, okay, vengeance," Steve amended.
"I have a job to do," Fielding warned.
"I understand," Steve said, "but you're not going to stop me."
Fielding looked at him for a moment, and a faint smile crossed his face. "You may be right."