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A/N: Are you ready for another exciting chapter? I hope you guys like this one because it's going to open up the next chapter to be in Hawaii. Isn't that great? We're going to get to see Steve, and what's even better is someone else is going to see Steve as well. Anyway, I hope you guys are up for another void misadventure. Don't forget to leave a review and I'll see you on Friday!

Chapter 272

Irina had had a trying month.

Her twin brother had died in a terrible wreck. A terrible wreck without a driver. Which was impossible. Though Irina hadn't heard from her brother while he was in the car, she knew from his messages before he got into the get away vehicle that Professional had double crossed them. That she had been in the car with him, and she was probably driving. But Professional was not in the wreck, she wasn't there when the car rolled three times on that empty stretch of street. She hadn't died upon impact like everyone else had. And according to the CCTV footage from nearby stores, she didn't throw herself from the car either.

She was, however, according to the information she had sussed out, alive and apparently uninjured. On top of that she had given Trevor enough proof to prove that it was the Stepanov twins behind the Mid-Western Canadian Heists and then she handed him right over to the CSIS who, in turn, but Trevor into Witness Protection. With the Professional gone, Trevor whisked away, and the CSIS bearing down on her, Irina had no choice but to gather up Roman's body and flee back to Russia where her father hid her from the Canadian version of the feds.

With nothing but time on her hands after that, she put it to good use. She used the dark web to find herself some information about this so-called infamous Professional. Turns out that Professional was a code name. Used on the Sanctuary app as a callsign for the person the app belonged to. She was Rowan Pierce, which meant Sin Nombre wasn't on loan to her, but with her. And the other man in the vault was no doubt Wo Fat, her great and terrifying brother.

She had taken this information to her father and he had just stared at her. Wo Fat was a man as ruthless as he, he had said. When his sister was last threatened, he took down a Yakuza Oyabun and his entire faction which meant he would have very little issue with going to war with them, and would no doubt be strong enough to take them down. But Roman was dead and Irina was mad. So, while she didn't have permission to flat out go after Rowan Pierce, she did decide to at least mess with her a little.

With the information she got from the dark web she composited her own file. She didn't want to just hand them the information, especially since Rowan Pierce wasn't traveling as Rowan Pierce at that time. So instead she put together a file of proof that linked her new alias, Rory Wickerby, to Wo Fat and a string of heists he was off loading merchandise from. With that done she handed her off to MI6 and the FBI and everywhere else. Except for Hawaii because she had heard how crazy Steven McGarrett was over her and she didn't want that man anywhere near Russia. And while she was down to get a girl arrested, she understood wanting to get away from a crazy ex, so she would never do that to another girl, even one like Rowan Pierce. Especially since she wanted to kill her, you know, herself.

But her father was smart enough to know that she couldn't be trusted alone. So, she had been forced to spend a lot of time in her father's nightclub, under his watchful eye so he could be certain that she was staying out of trouble. Fair. But he was a bit to late. That night had been just like no other. Her father snuck her into the club via the secret underground tunnels. But she didn't like to stay up in his office the whole time. So, when he was busy on the phone, she went down the stairs to the lounge area. The night was already under way, girls in tight dresses were milling around a lot of men in bright colored shirts and black pants who were trying to get with the girls. She just wanted a drink, maybe some food and she was on her way to that bar when she spotted someone and her heart stopped in her chest.

She would recognize that ice cold gaze anywhere.

Professional.

She was just sitting there at the bar, legs crossed, eyes on Irina, unflinchingly so. That stupid smug smile on her face.

The nerve the absolute nerve, that this woman could think that she could waltz into the Stepanov's club after killing Roman and nothing would happen to her.

Irina got to the bottom of the stairs, Professional got off of her barstool and Irina lost it.

She roared, screamed her anger and then charged Professional. Poor Professional had not been expecting that. Her eyes widened and she took half a step back but the surprise barely stayed on her face. She set herself and then took Irina head on.

As they collided, chaos ignited in the club house. Women screamed, people in their panic began to run, blocking Stepanov's men from getting to Irina. Drunken men, not understand what was happening charged in to fight, but not into the one with Irina and her opponent, but each other and the guards who had been trying to get to her to help out.

For a moment they were locked together, hands on each other's shoulders, before Irina changed tactics. She no longer wanted Professional on the ground, she just wanted to cause her pain.

She slashed her across her stupid face with her nails, which just opened up a hole for Professional to punch her back in the face. For a girl she knew how to fight, like properly fight. Irina, sadly really only knew how to shoot and she didn't have a gun right at that moment. For each attempt to hit her, Professional not only blocked but countered with another hit, she was knocking Irina sideways.

But not for long.

"Block this bitch!"

She grabbed the barstool and just threw it at her, it was too big for Professional to dodge, so even though she ducked, most of the barstool hit her and then knocked her down. Just where Irina wanted her. She got on top of Professional and though the other woman's arms were raised she still managed to finally hit her back.

"I'm going to tear you apart and mail you back to your brother you stupid bitch!" Irina shouted at her, finally noting that there was some kind of strange smile on Professional's face which was strange because she was not currently winning in this situation.

And then she jerked and Irina found herself gasping though she wasn't sure why at that moment.

There was a momentary sharp ache that turned into a terrible shooting pain all through her abdomen. She looked down to where Professional had lodged the knife into her side.

Ah so that had been the smile. Professional had a concealed weapon and was no doubt waiting for the right time to pull it on her.

"How do you like that karma bitch?"

She wasn't certain what karma she was talking about but she didn't like it all. The pain had paralyzed her which mean that Professional could shove her off and leave her lying on the floor with the pain and the rage fighting to take over.

H5O-H5O-H5O-H5O

Victor was having a hard time with his remaining child. She was all he had left, and he wanted to make sure that nothing else happened to her. But that didn't mean he was going to let Wo Fat and his twisted sister get away with what they had done to his son.

He had sent people to Colombia to find Rowan, seeing as Wo Fat was travelling now and had clearly left her behind, but no one had been able to locate them. That was odd. He had a lot of money to throw around, he had a lot of people on his side, but no one, not a single person could tell him where Rowan was hidden. No one had heard anything and no one was going to go anywhere near Armando Diaz to ask, not after the Diego incident.

Needless to say, he wasn't surprised when his daughter skipped out on bonding time once he was on his call. What did surprise him was, he got off his call, he heard the door to his office close and lock, and looked up to see that one of his quarry had found him first.

Wo Fat stood there, fiddling with the cufflinks on his suit jacket, behind him was the heavily armed Rabbit assassin that was now a personally babysitter.

When Wo Fat's eyes finally turned up to his there was a coldness glittering there. "Victor Stepanov. How nice to finally meet you. We've never had the pleasure of doing business together, but I trust you know who I am."

Victor struggled to smile. He didn't know why Wo Fat was here, he didn't know why the man had a problem with him all of a sudden. And it wasn't like he had actually done anything to him or his sister, though it would have been sorely deserved if he did.

"Of course," he said softly trying to exude confidence. "What brings you to Russia? Did you want to negotiate a deal?"

"No. I came to ask you a question."

Okay, okay, not what he expected but alright. "Alright, and what's that?"

"Did you think I wouldn't find out you sold us out to MI6?"

Victor was confused for all of two seconds. It seemed that despite telling his daughter not to she had tried to take out Rowan Pierce herself. Or at least lend a helping hand to annoying her.

"I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about."

A lie, a necessary bluff. Wo Fat merely smiled, clasped his hands behind his back and approached Victor's desk.

"I think you know exactly what this is about. I think you got mad. You figured my sister for your son. Right?"

That was what he was thinking, he would have just chosen to do so in a way that couldn't have been traced back to them. But Irina was young and impetuous, she needed more finesse. She was still learning.

"Well, your little monster did kill my son."

"A crashed car is hardly my sister's fault."

"Yes, but she's alive and well and neither he nor the rest of the people in that car are."

"Fools with out the common sense to jump from a tumbling car is, once again, not my sister's fault."

"No, just that it happened by your little monster's grand design."

Wo Fat's eyes darkened and he knew immediately he had hit a nerve. "You will not call my sister a monster. She is not like you or me. We are the real monsters. If you want to come at me for the loss of your stupid son, then so be it, but you will be leaving her out of this."

That was it. The sore spot. Rowan was his sore spot. Clear as day. "And how exactly do you expect to make this right? Hmm? What power do you have to bring my son back? You took something very precious from me. It is only fair that you surrender something just as precious in return. And we both know that will be your sister."

Wo Fat's smile became a dangerous one, a glittering worrying smile. He sort of scoffed. "Yes, I rather guessed that you would say that." He walked slowly towards the desk. His hands once again clasped behind his back. "You're a lot like me, in that regard. There isn't a single empire I'd topple, not a single person I'd hunt down if someone took my Rowan from me."

He stopped and only then did Victor notice that Sin Nombre had walked up with him. Victor slowly went for the gun he had taped to the underside of his desk.

"So, I'm afraid to say that there is only one way to end this."

Victor went pulled his gun and even fired a few bullets at him but Wo Fat had already ducked. Sin Nombre had dove out of the way and when he got back up, he had the high-powered SMG in his hands trained on him. He didn't even get a chance to fire off another round, by the time he thought to pull the trigger again Sin Nombre had unloaded an entire clip into him.

The bullets ripped into his body with such force that he was thrown back and out of his chair. Pain was all he could feel, but even though he was in agony he still felt it when Wo Fat stood over him.

"You should have never threatened my sister, Stepanov."

Victor saw the gun in his hand but knew it wouldn't matter. Until there was the sound of screams and a ruckus coming from downstairs. Wo Fat paused, just to turn the noise and it was enough. If Victor was going down then Wo Fat would go with him.

He grabbed his gun and shot, but the pain made him fuzzy so the bullet missed. Instead of shooting him in the head the bullet merely glanced off the side of Wo Fat's face.

Wo Fat stumbled back, stunned by the shot. Victor tried to aim again, this time for a kill shot. No time to be fancy, just shoot him in the chest and hope it finished things. But Wo Fat recovered and then he was looking down the barrel of a gun again. He was in too much pain to shoot like he wanted to. The only thing he'd regret was that he wouldn't be able to save his little girl or see her grow up.

And then Wo Fat pulled the trigger.

H5O-H5O-H5O-H5O

The riot was getting violent, the gunshots went off upstairs and then more gunshots followed but this time they were downstairs. Rowan hid herself behind the bar until her boys came rushing down the stairs. She popped up, and clamoured around as they made it to the first floor, clearly looking for her.

She rushed forward and clocked fresh blood streaming down Wo Fat's face. "What… what happened? Your face. Oh my god, your face."

For a second he looked confused as if he had no idea why she would be worried. "I'm fine. It's fine. We need to get out of here now," he ordered.

There had been a whole plan. Rowan was to distract downstairs, Wo Fat and Conejo, would sneak upstairs and deal with Victor. Rowan was not to engage Irina until she had back up but Irina had had other plans. Now they were onto the escape part of the plan, take them to a remote room and void them out of there. She let Wo Fat take a hold of her hand and drag her towards the entrance of the club.

"It's only a matter of time before they…"

Anything else Wo Fat was going to say was cut off by a roar, a roar she recognized and Rowan went down. Because someone had tackled her.

That someone was Irina Stepanov.

Rowan had stabbed her in the stomach, how the hell was she still moving. She got on top of Rowan grabbed her by the shoulders and then shook her, shook her so hard that her head rebounded off the floor a few times. This didn't last long, Wo Fat had turned and in one spinning kick, his foot connected with Irina's head and dislodged her grip on Rowan. In fact the poor girl had gone flying, where Conejo then shot her.

But this was lost to Rowan who had a hand to the back of her very fragile head. Already the world was spinning and loud noises went of like hot white explosions against her eyes. They got her out of the club, both had a grip on her arms, she wasn't sure where they had dragged her but it was dark and thankfully quiet.

"Rowan, Rowan we need to leave, you need to take us home," Wo Fat said, his face swimming in front of her.

"Home," she managed to gurgle out.

He meant the void but her head hurt so much that she couldn't focus on the strings, couldn't focus on the power to open the void for her.

"Goddamnit, she's out of it," Wo Fat snapped no doubt to Conejo.

"We gotta do something, we need to get somewhere safe."

Her boys were in trouble. She was supposed to get them somewhere safe but she couldn't get the void to work. She needed the void to work. Why did her head have to hurt so much?

Somewhere in the distance came a bang, a massive sound for Rowan, but it was probably a normal sound in reality. Probably a door opening. Scrambling and shouting, Conejo reloading a gun, Wo Fat was saying that they were boxed in. To Rowan it was nothing but gibberish, sounds she couldn't make sense of, but she felt their panic, felt their fear.

It was that fear the void responded to. Her eyes opened, had the boys been looking they would have seen a mass of swirling stars in the dark depths that had replaced her usual sky blue eyes.

Her eyes were no longer hers, and neither was the voice that came out of her mouth. "Think of home."

She grabbed them, a hand to each pant leg and in one resounding boom the void wrapped them up and took them home… to somewhere safe.

H5O-H5O-H5O-H5O

Wo Fat sat up and found himself in a grave yard.

What the fuck.

He looked around. No Rowan. No Conejo, but the grave he had been sleeping on said Sebastian Falcon-Gonzales.

He used the tombstone to pull himself up. "Sorry for disturbing you," he whispered, mostly out of respect for the dead. He didn't used to believe in ghosts and shit but he didn't have a sister who could manipulate space and time at that point. Now he'd believe anything.

He put a hand to his throbbing head and his fingers came back sticky. Fuck. If he was still bleeding that meant he was cut open a lot worse than he thought it was. He was going to need stitches.

Wo Fat looked around, there was no sign of Rowan or Con. He could have looked but he instinctively knew that they had not been sent to the same place as him. He forced his stiff joints to walk. He had never been this sore after a jump before but everything had been different about this one. There was more of that electrical power, more of a surge, and a deeper darkness that had enveloped them in this terrible suffocating cold was so much darker and colder than it usually was.

Normally jumping with Rowan was filled with lights and strings and a personal bubble of warmth, like he had been wrapped up in one of her hugs. This had been the trip from hell, it was like someone other than Rowan had been at the helm of that one but that didn't make sense at all.

It took longer than he wanted to admit to get himself out of that grave yard. IT spent a lot of time hobbling along, using the tombstones and statues to practically drag himself forward and keep himself up. He must have looked a right state, because when he got past those gates, people gave him a wide berth. Which was cruel really, he was in a great amount of distress, where was this world kindness Rowan was often prattling on about? No one had ever been nice to him before and it looked like no one was going to be nice to him now.

He clocked a near-bye licence plate. Colombian. He was in Colombia. Okay, well at least he knew where he would be going to get his medical help.

He hailed a taxi, or tried to, no one would pick him up with the blood streaming down his face. When he couldn't get a taxi, he resorted to a petty crime. Carjacking. It was usually beneath him but at this point he just wanted to get somewhere safe.

He stuck a gun in someone's face and even though he wasn't in an Audi he drove all the way to Armando's. On muscle memory alone. He was getting woozy and tired. He must have been losing a lot of blood. His head was pounding, his vision blurring, he was surprised he managed to drive there at all.

He looked a right state, he could tell by the surprise on people's faces. But Armando's men knew him, even if they were new to the organization, and they let him through the gates and into the house. No longer was his friend hiding out in safe houses, he was back home with his family so Wo Fat was hoping that Armando's wife and two girls were somewhere else today. Because having to explain why he had shown up the way he had would take a lot and he wasn't sure he had it in him at that moment.

He didn't even bother knocking, he let himself into the office startling Armando who was at his desk. He looked up, he took in the sight of Wo and was either shocked by his sudden appearance or just by how he looked.

"Fat… my friend… what happened to you?"

Wo Fat didn't know how to explain it all when Armando knew the bare minimum of what Rowan could do. And his head was finally starting to get the better of him. He wasn't certain he had the energy to get the whole story out.

All he got out was: "I lost Rowan." and then the pain in his head took him out.

As everything around him went black, as Armando jumped out of his chair to rush to his side, Wo Fat found that, even with the pain, he was thinking only of Rowan. God where was Rowan. And how the hell was he going to find her now?

H5O-H5O-H5O-H5O

Conejo got spit out of the void in the air where he then dropped into the ocean, he could tell by the salt water sting. He clawed up to the surface only to find he hadn't been that far under, the water was about chest deep. He waded out of the water to find himself on a beach that looked familiar, and a little house that looked even more familiar. Where the hell was he?

And where was everyone else? Where was Rowan and Wo Fat? He let his curiosity about the house take over though to dull the worry and the soreness that seemed to fill his whole body.

That jump had been hellish, and the pain in him was making the wading out of the water quite a task.

He approached the house with caution. On the beach he found a little beach chair with a towel waiting for him. He stripped off his leather jacket and traded it for the towel. If no one was home he was raiding that house for new dry clothes and something sugary to eat or drink. But once he got into the kitchen, he knew, he knew immediately where he was.

Or at least he was pretty sure he knew where he was. He just really didn't want to be there, so until he got proof he was going to pretend he was somewhere else.

Wet or not, after he had raided the fridge for something to eat and a beer to drink. Sandwich in one hand, beer in the other, towel across his shoulders, he stomped up the familiar stair case looking for the pictures that used to line the walls and found them all missing which was fair cause he had taken the pictures out of them.

But the familiarity of the house confirmed that he was right. He knew where he was. He knew he was at McGarrett's. Rowan had sent him to Hawaii.

He took off all his wet clothes, towelled himself off and then changed into Steve's clothes. He took the only pair of dark jeans the man had, as she was right, he owned mostly cargo pants, and then picked a simple white tee-shirt.

Once he was ready, he looked around at the bedroom she had shared with McGarrett. All the pictures were missing, which was fair because Conejo had taken them when he came to get Rowan's stuff. Still he figured that Steve would have replaced them, maybe not with pictures of Rowan but at least of the kid and his new wife.

Actually, there was one picture frame. Sitting by the bed, it was of the three of them. Steve, Nahele and… Rowan. Why the fuck was that man waking up to a picture of his ex every day when he had a new girl, how did the new wife put up with that?

He'd worry about that more later. Looking around he found the jewelry box sitting on the dresser and Conejo went to it. A little golden sea shell necklace. That's what he was looking for. That's what she missed the most. Steve's dog tags and that little sea shell necklace. If he could find it, best believe he was going to bring it back to her.

He dug through it but found nothing. Just the jewelry he had left behind the first time he had come around. Fuck. He should have grabbed it the first time he was here, he just didn't know it was important back then. Had Catherine taken it? No why would she? It had a picture of Rowan and Steve inside and had Rowan and Steve's anniversary engraved on the back. Maybe she had thrown it out, maybe Steve had stashed it somewhere.

Shit.

Conejo immediately began digging through drawers. There had to be something here that he could grab, something that would make Rowan smile. That was how he found the engagement ring, under his shirts. The worst hiding spot ever, but there it was. It was too plain to be for Rowan, or maybe that was all he could afford on Government salary. Conejo put it back, McGarrett was supposed to be married, what was he doing with an engagement ring?

With a fucking picture of his goddamn ex on his bedside table, Conejo figured not.

He crossed the hall to the room that had been the kids and was shocked by what he found. Cause everything that had been there the first time Conejo had broken into the house was there. All the pictures and what was left of Rowan's effects. All put into this room to collect dust… which meant the kid wasn't living in this room… so where the hell was the kid?

Conejo left the room and went back into McGarrett's room so he could take another good long look at the place. There was single tooth brush in the washroom and not a single sign of a woman's clothes in his closet. Was she already sleeping in a separate room? What the hell was going on here.

Maybe he wouldn't go home right away. Maybe he'd lay low here and do some reckon.

Below him the back door opened and shut and Conejo froze. Or maybe he'd do the reckon right now. Because Steven McGarrett had just come into the house.