CHAPTER 15

Tuesday evening, unknown location:

The first thing he became aware of was a gentle swaying motion that almost sent him back into the deep sleep he had clawed himself from the depths of. He drifted along with the tide, his head lolling from side to side as conscious thoughts came and went.

As consciousness became easier to cling to, he became aware of two things. One was the sound of muffled voices; the other was that he wasn't moving. Something around him was moving. Just the thought of it triggered his motion sickness and a wave of nausea rolled over him, causing him to clamp his jaw shut and breathe heavily through his nose.

Slowly the nausea receded but the rocking motion remained. He focused on breathing as he willed whatever was causing his scattered thought process to leave his body. He realised that he hadn't even tried to open his eyes yet. He also realised he couldn't hear the voices anymore. Maybe he'd imagined them?

He struggled with heavy lids and tried to open his eyes at least partway only to be met with darkness. He tried blinking to clear his vision but was met with the same empty gloom. It took him far too long to realise something was covering his eyes, preventing him from observing his environment.

The rest of his body was yet to respond to his demands to move. He knew something was wrong, that this wasn't right, but he couldn't gather himself enough to do anything about it. Instead, he turned his attention to what he could hear.

After a moment, he could make out the same voices he thought he'd heard earlier. They sounded like they were underwater. Am I underwater? No. Otherwise he would be wet. He didn't feel like he was wet. But he was cold. His body shivered once he made that realisation.

The rest of his body was starting to come online. His head was pounding slightly, his neck and shoulders ached. He obviously hadn't moved in a while.

What happened?

He tried to shake his head to clear the cobwebs and coerce his brain into functioning. He must have zoned out for a moment because the voices had disappeared again.

He fought harder to clear his foggy mind. The gentle undulating movement threatened to pull him under. It was getting harder to stay cognisant. His head felt like it was detached from his body as it rolled suddenly to one side.

"Hey, he's coming around."

The voice was so close that he would have jumped in surprise if he could have. Whatever was in his system was still holding him captive.

"We're not there yet." Another voice. "He shouldn't be waking up."

He frowned as the words slowly filtered through his pathetic excuse of a brain. He opened his mouth to say…something. He coughed as the damp air exacerbated the uncomfortable dryness of his mouth.

When was the last time I drank something?

As though in answer to his question, something was held to his lips and chilled liquid dribbled into his mouth. He swallowed as he realised how thirsty he was and sought more of the refreshing liquid.

Water.

Only it wasn't just water. It had a bitter aftertaste.

He tried to turn away but he couldn't get anything to work the way it should. He felt tender fingers grip his chin and hold his head steady as the water was continuously poured into his mouth.

"Just a bit more." This voice was different to the others. Soft and feminine.

As far as he could tell, there were at least three people in the room with him. This one, the one forcing him to drink tainted water, sounded familiar. His muddled brain just couldn't place where he'd heard the voice before.

He was starting to lose hold on consciousness again. He could almost feel his body relaxing of its own accord. Anger flared at his body's response only to be replaced with a desperate need to sleep, to relax.

"It's okay, sweetheart. Just sleep."

He wanted to give in so badly. He would have if it didn't feel so wrong. He should be fighting it. Right?

His head dropped to his chest as the fingers released their hold. He tried to speak, but his tongue refused to cooperate. In fact, his whole body seemed to resist his orders to get up, to go…where?

Where was he?

"N-n-no-o," he finally managed to push passed numb lips.

The nausea reared its ugly head again and he swallowed down the bile that threatened to escape. He felt like he was floating in the middle of the ocean.

Up and down. Up and down. Up and down.

A never-ending cycle.

He tried to stop his eyes from fluttering closed. Not that he'd ever really opened them. He was fading fast. He just felt so tired. Maybe he should just rest? He would feel better. Yeah, that sounded like a good idea.

"I've waited so long for this day," the voice whispered in his ear.

He felt hands on his arms and tried to push them off but his body was no longer listening. It was like his brain was wide awake but his body was a dead weight. Completely unresponsive.

"It's okay Steve. You're going home."

His breathing evened out and he fell into a reluctant sleep. His thoughts scattered as the abyss swallowed him whole.

Tuesday night, temporary Five-0 offices:

The team and Catherine were huddled around Chin's computer. It was quickly approaching midnight; not that they'd be able to tell due to the lack of windows in the stuffy room.

Despite being the shortest of them all, Danny stood behind the group and peered over Chin's shoulder. As far as he knew, Steve had been missing since the early hours of that morning. That meant they were at least twelve hours (probably more) behind whoever had taken him. The amount of coffee he'd consumed in the last few hours alone had done nothing to quell his nerves. Instead, it had caused his anxiety over his missing partner to worsen.

The last time he felt this on edge was when his daughter was kidnapped by Fuentes. The only thing that had brightened that situation was that Steve had been with her. If only he could say the same for his partner now. He had no one to protect him.

If he had just insisted on staying with Steve, then maybe he wouldn't be missing. In order to push that thought from his mind, Danny had barked orders at the team to find something, anything, that could give them an idea as to what had happened to Steve. After coming up with nothing from his phone, house, even the stupid flowers, he had been close to pulling out his hair. At wits end, Danny had demanded that the water bottle he had discovered near Steve's phone be analysed.

The lab results had come in a few short hours ago. The bottle had only Steve's prints on it but it was the contents of the bottle that disturbed him. The water had been laced with Rohypnol. A drug that depresses the central nervous system, slowing the heart rate and respiratory system. If Steve had drunk enough of it, he would have begun to feel lethargic, disoriented and quickly lost motor function. He wouldn't have been able to fight back.

The fact the bottle was only half empty gave him hope that maybe all was not lost. Perhaps Steve had fought off his would-be kidnappers and escaped and was sleeping it off somewhere.

Danny grabbed Steve's phone, which was now encased in a clear evidence bag. Had Steve tried to call for help? Danny shook himself; these thoughts were useless to him. Useless to Steve. He shoved the phone back onto the desk loudly, ignoring the concerned looks from the group sitting at the desk.

He knew he wasn't being very helpful. The caffeine had made him even more jittery. Just to add insult to injury, he'd had to call Rachel and tell her to pick up. He was angry, scared, worried, annoyed…hell, all of the above. His stomach was rolling with nausea and coffee that had been skulled on an empty stomach.

If Steve had been kidnapped, Danny knew he would try to escape or get a message to them the first chance he got. He had never doubted his partner's skills, especially when it came to escape and evade, but after everything that had happened, he wondered if Steve's weaknesses would ultimately be his undoing. Anyone that knew Steve would know to exploit them to get what they wanted.

Nazeef had done exactly that; used Steve's family against him to get him to talk. Fuentes had threatened Grace's life and Steve had used himself as a human shield to protect her. Steve would die before any of his Ohana got hurt. And that's what scared Danny. Steve would stop at nothing to avenge them. Nothing.

"Got something," Chin said, interrupting Danny's morbid thoughts.

Danny rushed back over to the desk, his heart thudding in his chest at the mere prospect of a lead, a thread leading them to Steve.

"This silver van is seen four times in the last week. I'm guessing if we went back through the other footage we'd see it just as frequently," Chin announced.

"It could just be someone on their way to work," Danny pointed out, his hopes of a promising lead vanishing.

"Except it only shows up at the same time Steve is out running. It follows his exact route, only five minutes behind," Chin added. "It would even follow on his return route. Every day except today. We only capture it following Steve out. Neither Steve nor the van pass by the shop again."

"Did you get a plate?" Danny asked, the hope starting to flare again.

"Just a partial. Last three numbers are 706. And before you ask, we've already got a BOLO out," Chin replied.

Danny flicked his eyes over to Catherine who had yet to say a word. She was staring at the screen as though it would give her all the answers she needed. After the conversation they had shared a few weeks ago, Danny had a pretty good idea of what was going through her mind.

"I'm going to get some more coffee. Would you like to join me, Cath?" Danny asked.

Catherine looked up, startled by Danny's question. "Uh, yeah. Sure."

Danny led the way to the break room, Catherine traipsing slowly behind him. As Danny started filling the pot with water, he turned to Catherine.

"Not quite the leave you had in mind, huh?" Danny asked casually. He kept his tone light.

Catherine cracked a sad smile. "Not exactly." She sat down on the couch. "I mean, we never had certainty when we were both serving. At least now with him being on the island, I always know where he is."

"That must have been hard…never knowing when or if you would see each other," Danny said.

"It worked for us. We always found rendezvous points and understood when the other couldn't make it. This is different though. It's just like when Fuentes had him. I just feel so helpless!"

The words spewing from her mouth were not dissimilar to the ones she had spoken when Fuentes had taken Steve.

"This shouldn't be happening anymore! He should be able to put all this behind him and stop having to look over his shoulder."

Danny wanted to voice the same sentiments but knew it would do them no good at this point. He felt for Catherine. She loved his best friend, whether she wanted to admit it or not. That kind of connection made it all the more harder to think objectively, let alone think at all.

"We're going to find him, Cath," Danny assured her.

"I know," Catherine replied with that same sad smile. "You always do."

Wednesday morning, temporary Five-0 offices:

Kono sat at her desk, staring at the bare wall on the other side of the room. It was very reminiscent of the current situation; bleak, for lack of a better word. She reached for her mug of stale coffee and downed it in one gulp with a grimace.

She had barely slept. At one o'clock in the morning, Danny had ordered everyone to go home and get some rest. An order that Kono had disobeyed and was just starting to regret. She wanted to be ready in case they got a hit on the van. As it turned out, her abstinence was unnecessary.

"I thought Danny told you to go home?"

It was a testament to how exhausted she was that she didn't even hear Chin enter the dank room that was their temporary base of operations.

Kono sighed. "I guess I didn't really feel like it." She looked up at her cousin. "I'm guessing you couldn't sleep either?"

Chin had dark circles under his eyes and his gaudy Hawaiian shirt was crumpled. There was even a coffee stain on it. He was also clearly favouring his right leg; his wound had obviously been giving him some trouble. Kono was certain she didn't look much better.

"Not so much," Chin answered as he plopped down in his chair.

The two sat in strained silence.

"We've really got no idea what this is about?" Kono asked her cousin.

They had been spinning theories all night, trying to come up with a viable reason as to why someone would take their boss this time. All his known enemies were either dead or in jail.

Chin rubbed his face tiredly. "No."

"There has to be something. He…we just got him back," Kono remarked dismally.

The last week had been almost like old times; Steve and Danny arguing with each other, working cases, Steve pissing people off, gunfights. It had given them hope that they could put everything behind them and return to normal.

At that moment, Danny walked into the small room, phone held to his ear. He looked as though he was ready to throw the phone through the window. Except there were no windows.

"Yes, sir. As soon as we know something, you will be the first to know." Danny hung up the phone with an exaggerated sigh. "I will never know how Steve deals with that man on a daily basis. Please tell me we have something?"

Kono looked at Chin, then back at their temporary boss. "No. Nothing has come back yet on the van, but I can confirm it was captured on video following Steve every day for the past three weeks."

"So we have nothing?" The disappearance of the expectant look on Danny's face had Kono's gut clenching with sympathy.

"Until we find the van," Kono replied reluctantly. The truth was until the van resurfaced, they really had nothing to go on.

"Yeah. I know," Danny replied, his shoulders slumping with defeat.

"What did the Governor say?" Chin asked.

Danny rubbed his face with his hands. "He said to use all resources available to find him. Including passing the Ka'aukai case to HPD. Since Steve insisted working with HPD in a joint capacity, that shouldn't be a problem."

"Really? He said that?" Kono couldn't believe her ears. The Governor of Hawaii had basically given them carte blanche without so much as a warning to know where the line is.

Danny nodded. "I'm paraphrasing but that was the general gist of the conversation."

Kono leaned back in her chair. "When the Governor said all resources…" she trailed off suggestively.

"He meant it. Anything to find Steve. I think the Governor is growing soft. Either that or he wants his taskforce back. I think after the Nazeef incident, he realised that accessing outside help is sometimes needed."

"What are you thinking, cous?" Chin asked.

"A trip to our favourite shrimp entrepreneur," Kono answered.

Danny's nodded in agreement. "Good idea. Why don't you and Chin go see if the big guy has heard anything and I'll talk to HPD?"

"Sounds like a plan," Kono said, jumping to her feet, keys in her hand.

Finally, something to do.

Wednesday morning, HPD precinct:

Danny watched the cousins leave before gathering all the reports they had compiled on the Ka'aukai case into one pile. Not one to not see things through to the end, Danny contemplated not handing the case over. Then thoughts of his missing partner quickly persuaded him otherwise. They needed all their attention on finding Steve.

He shoved the files under one arm and left the musty room, emerging in the middle of the busy HPD precinct. He looked around, hoping to find Duke somewhere nearby. A quick discussion with a harried-looking officer revealed that Duke was out on a call.

'Just my luck,' Danny thought.

His gaze fell on one of the only other officers associated with the case: Clarke. With a deep sigh, Danny steeled himself before making his way over to the cubicle where Lieutenant Clarke was sitting.

"What do you want, Williams?" Clarke asked without looking up from the report he was filling out.

Danny bit his tongue. He knew better than to rise to the bait.

"These are Five-0's reports from the Ka'aukai case. The case is now HPD's," Danny answered as he placed the files on the corner of the desk.

Clarke looked over at the pile then up at Danny. "Too difficult for you?"

Danny nearly rolled his eyes. "No. Something else came up."

"Yeah, I heard McGarrett left you guys in the lurch. Not much of a leader, is he?"

Danny leaned over the desk and pinned Clarke with a heated glare. "Let me tell you something about Steve McGarrett. He is the most selfless, hardworking man I have ever met. There is nothing that he would ask us to do that he wasn't willing to do himself."

"Except that he just up and left, leaving you guys to clean up his mess," Clarke sneered. "Just like always. Why do you cover for him so much? You know what he's done and yet you still stand up for him. If I were you, I would have abandoned ship ages ago."

"Well, it's a good thing you're not me then," Danny bristled as he folded his arms over his chest.

"I'd watch your back, Williams. He already got my partner killed. What's to say he won't get his own killed? Don't you have a daughter to look after? You can't do that if you're dead."

Danny ignored the insinuation that his partnership with Steve would get him killed. "Maybe you didn't know your partner as well as you thought."

Danny walked away with that parting comment. He knew he couldn't tell Clarke about Rogerson's involvement with Nazeef, but that didn't mean he couldn't plant a seed of doubt in the bitter man's mind. Besides, he had more pressing matters to attend to than arguing about something he already knew to be true. Steve McGarrett was a good man and Danny knew he would never leave them like this.