Fic: Malasada's H5Obigbang chapter 16

[thoughtreflex]

CHAPTER SIXTEEN:  Frying Pans and Downfalls

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The thing to understand about Steve was that his smiling eyes and laid back friendliness, his willingness and want to see the good in people, his charm and ease and ability to come across as a complete nerd and goofball when the situation permitted were all very real parts of what made him who he is.  But these good parts of Steve, these important parts, also serve the darker purpose of hiding his other strengths.  Disguising his lethal intelligence and even more lethal speed and strength.  Misleading people into forgetting or never realizing that seventeen years of being trained as a weapon and putting that training into practice for god and country had not degraded a fraction with his last year and a half on Five-O.

Danny wasn’t dumb though, and he’d had most of Steve’s number by the end of their first case together.  He’d promised himself back then that no matter how close they got, no matter how much the guy got under his skin (which Danny had known would be inevitable after their first case together) he wouldn’t forget that the man was also a soldier.

Most days Steve made that fact impossible to forget anyway, what with storing of grenades in his car like most people store spare tires.

What all this narrowed down to was that when Steve was ready to make the move Danny had known the man had been sitting on, Danny was right there with him.  Not that either of them had been subtle about their intentions anyway.

Steve was up and smashed the chair into the guard closest to him the second he finished talking.  Asshat saw it coming at the last possible moment and only just managed to throw his hands up in time to stop it from connecting with his head.  When he grabbed it Steve shoved the chair hard, sending him staggering until his back hit the floor to ceiling window with enough force to rattle it.  The taser disappeared but Danny didn’t have a chance to see where it went because his attention was occupied by the more dangerous persona non grata in the room with them: Johann.

Johann, who had watched his coworker just get smashed with a metal chair without a flicker of emotion.  Johann wasn’t touchy feely like Will was, but he was still very close to the top of Danny’s least favourite person list, and when he trained his very large gun on Steve he skyrocketed to the number one slot.

Danny was too far away to be able to block the shot or tackle him out of the way.  But Danny had already known that the guy wouldn’t hesitate to shoot Steve if given the opportunity and he’d come up with a back-up plan.  He lunged across the couch and wrapped his hand around the heavy glass tumbler that Marcel had been enjoying earlier, the amber liquid still swirling inside.  Standing and twisting he pulled his arm back and threw it as hard as he could at Johann.  It smashed him right in the side of the head.  Later Danny would insist that had been his intention all along.

The loud crack of the gun going off in the small space was nearly deafening, the bullet swinging just wide of hitting Steve and instead punching a hole through the window.

Johann rocked back a step, blood starting to trickle down from his hairline and into his eye but he was already shaking his head to clear it and pulling his weapon back up to aim at Steve once more.

Danny had already been in the process of rushing him, stepping up onto the couch and launching himself off its armrest like a tiny missile.  Johann wasn’t as tall as his counterparts, but he was built like a rugby player and felt as solid as Steve when Danny dove into him.  Just like Steve he went down, the gun firing wildly again and Danny just prayed it didn’t hit his partner as they both crashed to the ground.

Somehow Johann had managed to twist so that he was mostly on top when they landed, his shoulder digging hard into Danny’s chest, snapping the air out of his lungs and driving the back of his head into the ground hard enough that Danny saw stars.  Danny scrambled to recover, knowing he was at a disadvantage; weak and already hurt.  His lower body was effectively pinned by the man so he thrust up with his chest, ignoring the screaming flare of pain at the movement, and plowed his elbow at Johann’s face.  He would have settled for hitting his throat or ear, or the tip of his nose but Johann was better trained and he had the upper advantage.

Danny’s hit didn’t land.

It was blocked with a solid forearm and Danny only had a moment to suck a deep gulp of air back into his lungs before a heavy open handed slap to his chest stole it right back.  He gasped, his body curling to protect the fiery injuries and before he got a chance to regroup he found himself flipped onto his stomach.  Johann pressed a knee into his back and grabbed cruelly at his hair and began dragging his head back.  Danny tried to get his arms under him, flailing to usurp Johann’s intention of smashing his face into the unyielding metal floor but his sweaty palms slipped at that crucial moment.  He didn’t close his eyes to await the inevitable connection.

The pain didn’t come.

The weight at his back abruptly disappeared and he twisted his freed head around just in time to see Johann being thrown off of him, tossed away like a scrap of clothing under Steve’s wrath.  His head connected with the highly polished coffee table, a crunch and snap sounding throughout the room that Danny didn’t actively hear as the guard Steve had left unattended in order to help Danny snagged his attention.

“Behind!” he managed to warn, his voice croaky and hoarse but apparently understandable as Steve, his face a closed off emotionless robot mask, whipped around smoothly to meet the threat head on.

Danny had to admit they looked like they were evenly matched, trading blow for blow and block for block in a series of movements so fast they looked choreographed and impossible.  The guard kept aiming his attacks at Steve’s left arm and Danny belatedly realized that that was the hand he must have dislocated to break free.  A look at the deadly calm on Steve’s face reassured Danny that the man was as batshit crazy as ever and more than capable of handling this asshole.

That was the moment Smidt made his reappearance, popping up from the floor behind Steve and the guard.  He was pale and clearly freaked out but he was brandishing the taser that had been dropped earlier and seemed to know how to use it.

Danny pushed to his knees, spying Johann’s gun poking out from under the couch and he half crawled half ran to grab at it.

Turns out he needn’t have worried.

Steve had seen the Doctor take aim and a split moment later he delivered a nasty uppercut that his opponent didn’t anticipate.  The blow to the head shook a few screws loose enough that the guard momentarily lost his focus.  Steve grabbed him and shoved him directly into the path of the taser just as the doctor was firing.  The taser probes latched into the guards back, delivering a nasty charge that had him beginning to curl in on himself.

Steve didn’t waste a moment, barely blinking between throwing the guy into the path of the weapon, taking a driving step forward and lashing out with a side kick so powerful it could probably fell a tree.  The guard went flying backwards under the force of the blow, still shaking with electricity as he crashed heavily into the doctor.

Neither man had time to brace themselves before their combined weight fell against the window.  With two bullet holes already punching through it the glass gave little resistance at the unwelcome force.  It shattered into thousands of tiny tempered pieces and dropped.  There was a startled scream from the doctor, his arms pinwheeling desperately in an attempt to grab onto something that could help him, something that could halt the fall.  His eyes were wide and glassy with terror as they hung on the threshold for a second that seemed to last an eternity.  When the two men fell away into the night they had nothing but the crumbling glass for company.

The room didn’t fall quiet as Danny wasted a long moment staring in shock at where there used to be a transparent wall and two living beings.  Steve stood only a few feet from the precipice, which was still far too close, his feet braced, shoulders drawn back, head high and alert for further threats and his good fist curled loose and ready to strike any future threat.

Danny refused to acknowledge that at this angle he looked like a damned comic book hero.  Instead he looked away to give Steve a moment and finally wrapped his fingers around the gun, palming it securely before using the couch to drag his sorry ass to its feet.

His bad knee just about gave out on him, and he grunted as he adjusted his balance, wincing when it pulled at his chest.  He was a mess.

Steve was at his side in a second, his overly warm hand wrapping just above Danny’s elbow in support, the gentleness of the grip at odds with the violence of moments before and darkness still in his eyes.

“You okay?”  Steve asked, his voice deeper than usual from the fight, blood leaking down the side of his face and he took a moment to swipe where it was dripping into his eye.  Danny wanted to laugh, but there was nothing even remotely funny about this.

“I’m good,” he lied.  There wasn’t another answer they could afford to admit to right now.  “We need to check Johann,” he looked over to where the guy was still lying facedown between the couch and the coffee table, the tiniest smear of blood was marring the highly polished wood.

“He’s dead,” Steve didn’t spare the guy a glance, instead his eyes drifted to Danny’s still mostly open shirt, cataloguing the bruising and cuts beneath, before looking at his knee like he had x-ray vision and could actually see the ligaments stretching beyond their means.  “Broke his neck in the fall.  We need to move, a couple of the crew saw them fall and could be here any minute.  Plus we don’t want our ride to leave without us.” Here he gave a little grin, the closest to un-soldier Steve that the guy would allow at the moment and Danny nodded in agreement.

Chances were pretty high that the doctor and guard hadn’t survived the five story fall to the deck below, and even if the majority of the crew weren’t privy to Danny and Steve’s presence on the ship they were still armed, dangerous, and being paid well enough by Marcel to want to head right up here and investigate.  Maybe use their guns a little if given the chance.

“I’d hate to be anything but punctual,” Danny refrained from rolling his eyes and hobbled to the door, opening it and peering out before stepping into the still empty corridor; gun raised to clear away any unfriendlies in his path.  He took them directly to the stairwell and they made it down one level before the shouting and heavy steps of boots on the stairs drifted up to them.  Danny turned and moved swiftly through the door and onto the next landing, the hallway thankfully empty, before limping a few doors down and gesturing to Steve to enter the door on his right.  With a tight frown Steve did as told and Danny followed after before gently sliding the door shut.

“Danny, we need to keep moving-” he started and Danny glared at him fiercely, planting a hand on Steve’s chest and shoving him against the wall beside the door.

“Shut-up,” Danny barked quietly, flicking the safety on his weapon and tucking it into the back of his pants, wishing for all the world that he had his holster because the feel of gun metal against his skin had always made him uncomfortable.  Steve opened his mouth to protest and Danny waved a finger warningly in his face, glaring up at the guy.  “What did I just say, huh?  Did I invite you to impress upon me your thoughts?  No, I did not, so kindly shut-up while I increase our chances of getting out of here alive,” he ordered.

Like always Steve decided that following a simple request was just beyond his scope of abilities.

“I’m not kidding Danny, we need to move-”

“I know!” Danny growled and wrapped his hand around Steve’s left wrist, pulling the limb up for inspection.  The thumb was folded in toward his palm grotesquely, locked in place by contracting muscles that had to be cramping, the joint sticking out like a rounded lump under the skin.  It hadn’t had time to start swelling yet, but it would soon.  To make things worse Steve had managed to rip layers of skin away from his thumb and pinky finger when he had ripped his hand from the cuffs.

“You have some serious issues Steven, you know that right?”  He turned Steve’s palm over inspecting it briefly from the other side.

“No I don’t, not when I have you to-” Danny ruthlessly snapped the joint back into place and Steve tried to yank his hand back.  Danny dug his fingers tight around Steve’s wrist and glared up at him, reaching out with his gift and healing the sting of the injury until it was no longer an issue.  It only took a couple of seconds and he instantly saw the tight lines around Steve’s eyes loosen as the pain disappeared.  “-fix me up,” he finished, flashing a brief but cheeky grin.  Danny wanted to yell at him about all the wrong in that statement, but instead he began feeling out for the other injuries he knew his friend had, bruises upon bruises and a possibly fractured rib…

Steve wrapped his hand around Danny’s and peeled his fingers off of his wrist.

“No, Danny,” he stopped him and Danny nearly flinched back, awareness flooding past his instinct to fix and he paled as he realized that maybe he’d been taking advantage of Steve, he should never have just presumed that Steve would be okay with him using his ability to help him.  He’d never asked anybody, never gotten consent… “Stop it,” Steve’s command was firm and Danny looked up to meet his stern face.  “You think I don’t know you get tired?  That using your ability thing drains you?  I can’t carry you right now Danny, we don’t have the time and you’re already almost past your reserves here.  We need to keep moving,” the soldier was mingling with friend but the urgency was the same and Danny wondered if maybe he was a little more out of it than he’d originally assumed, if Steve had to remind him to keep moving in the field.  He nodded and pulled the gun from the small of his back, pressing it into Steve’s once again fully functioning hand.

Steve hesitated a brief moment before nodding and quickly checked the weapon.  He frowned at it, pulling back on the slide and when it jammed half way Danny realized that the gun was useless, either from an empty casing caught or a bullet stuck in the barrel.  Either way it was bad news and Danny should have picked up on it when he had first grabbed the gun.  Steve tucked the weapon into the small of his own back, no doubt just in case they needed it for show later, and refrained from making a comment beyond the concerned look he gave Danny.  Danny sighed and rubbed quickly at his aching head before standing a bit taller and looking his friend in the eye.

“Where do we need to go?” he asked.  Steve locked his worry away and buckled back down to business.

“The helicopter pad.”

“Right, okay.  We need to go down two more levels and head to the aft.  It would normally be straight forward, but I have the feeling we might meet a bit of resistance.”

“We’ll deal.  Let’s go,” Steve took point this time, listening carefully at the door before quietly opening and visually checking the hall.  When the coast was confirmed clear they slipped down the corridor as quietly as they could.  The warning siren abruptly pierced the air, the wailing almost more urgent in its softness as it carried throughout the ship and Steve and Danny picked up their pace.  Danny ignored the stabbing pain threatening to collapse his knee as they stormed along.  Just when they were about to reach the door the unmistakable sound of stomping boots and a voice shouting just behind the metal warned them that they were about to get company.

Between one moment and the next Steve seemed to disappear right before Danny’s eyes.  Like a damned magic trick; now you see him now you don’t and Danny was left standing stupidly staring as the door to the stairwell thrust open and a man wrapped in a heavy grey canvas jacket rushed out.

The guy froze only two steps from Danny, surprise clear on his face as the door drifted shut behind him.  Clearly he hadn’t been expecting to find Danny so easily as it took him a few seconds to raise his large semi-automatic Smith and Wesson at him.  Those seconds cost him.

Steve dropped his legs from the pipes he had been clinging to above the mans head, his thighs landing on either side of the armed mans shoulders before closing tight and deadly around his neck and squeezing.  The guy dropped his weapon, his hands flying to Steve’s legs to try and pry their crushing grip away from his neck, his eyes bulging in alarm under his black hat, panicking, beating into Steve.  Steve held on ruthlessly, his hands securely clamped in the pipes running above his head, his muscles flexing rigidly beneath his t-shirt, his face void of emotion as he waited for the guy to cease struggling and then, not long after, loose consciousness.

When Steve unhooked his ankles and unclamped his legs the man fell to the ground like…a guy who had just been strangled into unconsciousness.  Danny’s fingers twitched towards him but he ignored the urge to help with the ease of a lifetime of practice.

“You are unbelievable,” he glared at Steve as the man dropped lightly to the ground and picked up the weapon in a movement so smooth one would never believe he was injured.  “Are all SEALs trained to be ninja’s or is this a personal thing?”

“Being a SEAL is a personal thing,” Steve murmured, already turning away and checking the stairwell, “but we all want to secretly be ninja’s.”  He pushed the door open, sweeping the area beyond with his newly acquired weapon before slipping in fully, Danny close on his heels.  It took mere seconds before they cleared the two levels and stepped into the corridor beyond.  Danny nodded in the direction they needed and they made it five meters before they heard the sound of running feet and shouting in the stairwell behind them, the droning of the warning klaxon not loud enough to cover it.

Steve opened the closest door on his left and Danny chased him through it, closing and getting out of the way just in time for Steve to drag a mess hall chair and jam it under the knob.  It wouldn’t hold for long.  They eyed it a silent moment.

“So you got me a helicopter ride?”  Danny tried to play off that he wasn’t breathing as hard as his body demanded, crying out for rest because he was just a little too everything for this shit.

“Is it too ostentatious this early in our relationship?” Steve turned to survey the room, his gaze locking on the door at the opposite end, beyond the metal tables that Danny had been trying, with only moderate success, to eat most of his meals at while this last month.

“That depends on whether or not it’s the Station Wagon or Rolls Royce of helicopters.  I have sophisticated tastes you know,” they moved towards the back door simultaneously, as in sync as ever.

“Chin and Kono picked it out, “ Steve shrugged, his movements economical and Danny appreciated the effort at communication as it helped him focus a better when his world was already all tilty and fuzzy around the edges.  The shifting of the ship beneath his feet didn’t help any.

“Great.  It probably has surfboards for rotors and cute little pineapple’s painted on the side,” he grumbled and they paused by the door, Steve glancing at him questioningly.  “Kitchen,” he answered the question quietly, keeping in mind that they were supposed to be keeping as low a profile as possible here, which wasn’t always their strong suit.  “I’ve never been in there, but I think it has access either to the next room or out back.  We should be able to get to the landing pad from there.”  Steve pushed the door open and they moved cautiously into the room.

Stainless steel counters took up the length of both walls, a third table travelling up the center of the room with a massive stove and ventilation system at its epicenter.  Pots and pans hung from specialized hooks over the counters, containers were locked down in designated brackets along the wall counters and one of the largest spice racks Danny had ever seen took up a good chunk of the opposite wall.

He grabbed a skillet on his way passed the sink, rotating the handle in his grip until it felt secure.  This was, along with the fact that he’d spent a large portion of his younger years working in a kitchen so he could earn independence for emancipation from the foster system, his saving grace.  All those years of listening to the walk-in fridge open and close had made him specially attuned to its telltale click.  He turned just in time to see the chef, the man who hated Danny on sight and served him his food with a scowl every single time, step from it with an armful of vegetables.

Maybe Danny should have made an effort to curb the man’s ingrained hate towards him.

Apparently the chef was better trained than the last gunman Steve had taken out as he dropped his colourful load without hesitation and grabbed a conveniently placed knife from the magnetic strip on the wall beside him.  In one breath to the next he hurled the sharp, shiny blade right at Danny.  Danny got the skillet up to block it just in time, the sound of metal chipping off of metal unmistakable.  Danny dropped the black metal slightly from where it was protecting his face and saw the guy reaching for another knife.

Steve fired a round from his weapon before he had a chance to pluck the knife from the wall and the chef dropped to the floor, swearing with words Danny didn’t understand and didn’t care to learn.  He didn’t waste another moment following Steve into the corridor, hastily slamming the door closed behind him.

“Take that door,” he gestured with the skillet and Steve slammed the door open and moved through.  Danny followed and three details hit him at once: the brisk salty air slammed into him with a fast wind that stirred his hair and nearly sent him reeling in its unexpectedness.  He’d spent far too long locked up inside.  Second, there was a helicopter, just as promised, hovering over the pad and trying to land in spite of the shifting horizon of the ship on waves that had been increasing in size over the course of afternoon.  Third, there were people at the edges of the helipad shooting at the helicopter.  Considering the size of the bird they had crap aim, but clearly it couldn’t continue.  Especially not when he saw that the side door on the chopper was open and Chin was sitting in the chair, calmly taking aim and picking off the people who were trying to take them out.

Steve was already shooting at those closest to him and Danny didn’t waste time fretting about whether or not the men he hit were killed or simply maimed.  Danny charged into the fray and swung his frying pan at the back of the closest guys head.  He went down like a stone.  Danny crouched low above him, dropping his culinary weapon and taking up the man’s gun instead.  It wasn’t a model he’d ever fired before, but the basics were all the same and he looked up to find his next target.  He wanted off this damn boat, and now the lives of his friends were in immediate danger; there was no way in hell he wasn’t going to use whatever violence necessary to protect them.  He’d deal with the personal consequences later, as they all would.

A prickle at the back of his neck had him looking over to his left and he startled when he met Marcel’s furious gaze focused right on him. Then Marcel trained his weapon on Steve, his focus absolute, and Danny swung his gun around, intent on stopping him.

He didn’t get a chance to squeeze the trigger.

The sharp pain that bit into his side was so surprising that Danny actually stopped in his tracks, puzzled.  He looked down, dropping his arms and letting the gun fall to the floor as it was too heavy to hold onto anymore.  At first glance he didn’t know what to think of the warm stickiness that was soaking his t-shirt and beginning to slide down his leg.

Marcel had never given Danny anything to wear that wasn’t black, so Danny wasn’t sure what the liquid was until he pressed his fingers into it and pulled them away.  They were covered in crimson.  Blood.  Shit, he’d been shot.

He staggered as the sound that had muted only moments before roared back to life and he dropped to his knees.  He tried pressing his hands to the wound to stop the blood from leaking so heavily and gasping when the lightest touch brought fire to his entire body.  Jesus, is this what Steve had felt when he’d been shot?

Steve.

Danny looked up to see Steve had moved further down the chopper pad, pretty much all of the visible hostiles were down except the guy who had shot Danny.  And the woman that Danny detested so much coming up behind Steve.  Danny couldn’t warn him with a yell even if he had the energy, the helicopters rotors overpowering even the sharp bark of gunshots.  The guy who shot Danny was baring down on him, weapon aimed and victory on his face as he came to stand only a few feet away.  Danny prepared for it all to end.

The sudden look of surprise on the gunman’s face, followed closely by the massive red flower blooming over the thin sweatshirt covered chest had Danny blinking in weary confusion.  The man crumpled to the ground and behind him Marcel stood, his eyes dark with a new fury Danny hadn’t witnessed on him yet.  It was tinged with that bit of crazy that had always made Danny nervous when in its presence.  He looked down at Danny, his own weapon trained on him now and Danny wished he had the strength to pick up the gun sitting uselessly by his bum knee.  He wished he wasn’t at a sudden loss for words.  Apparently that wasn’t much of an issue though, as Marcel had never had a problem in that area and wasn’t about to start now.

“Nobody decides on your fate but me,” he yelled over the din of the helicopter that had finally landed safely across the pad.  Marcel put another bullet in the already dead gunman that he had hired and no doubt ordered to do exactly what he had killed him for.  It was a pretty hefty cost.  Danny felt a little numb looking between the corpse and Marcel.  “If you’re not going to be mine than you’re not going to be anybody’s, you understand Mr. Williams?”  Danny blinked at him.

That was when Chin appeared in the drizzling rain like a wrathful warrior angel and smashed the butt end of his shotgun over Marcel’s head.  Marcel’s eyes rolled to white and he nearly landed on top of Danny as he fell to the deck.  Danny blinked between the limp body and up at Chin who’s chiseled anger fell away to deep concern.

“Hey, Danny.” Between one blink and the next Chin was on his knees by his side and Danny had never been so grateful to see his friend all decked out in his jeans and Kevlar, a holster strapped to his leg and shotgun gripped securely in one hand.  Fucking badass.

“I could kiss you,” Danny tried to tell him, unsure if Chin could hear him over the din.  Chin didn’t acknowledge the words, but that could be because the man was all about not wasting words and such.  Words were expensive for Chin Ho Kelly, especially when they could cost him so much.

“Want to get out of here?” Okay, so maybe the guy could waste words, but he sure wasn’t’ wasting time as he was already looping Danny’s arm over his shoulders and hoisting him to his feet without waiting a beat.

Danny couldn’t scream from the pain because the air had already been sucked from his body.  He nearly blacked out as he was dragged across the hard hard hard ground to the helicopter, doing his best to help but his feet kept getting in the way.  Then Kono was there, her small hands and unsurprisingly strong arms helping to haul him into the backseats of the chopper.

That last stretch was it for him, the pain too overwhelming, the sounds too loud and the sights too dark.  When he gave into the black he didn’t even see it coming. 
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The heavy wind from the choppers downwash was whipping his hair and clothes in all directions.  It was a familiar sensation for him and he barely cast it a thought as he moved onto the helicopter pad and began taking out the men armed with a variety of large weapons and taking aim at the chopper.  Chin was seated securely, his eyes protected by safety glasses that did not obscure his severe concentration, and he picked off a gunman somewhere off to his side.  Through the open chopper doors he could just see Kono’s rigid back as she leaned out the other side of the bird, a large rifle pulled up to her own shoulder.  God he loved his team, even as he felt guilty for placing them in this position in the first place.

The pilot’s teeth flashed in a grin as he jerked his head around in the cockpit, trying to keep his eye on everything at once.  Steve would worry about whether or not the man was certifiable later, once they were all safe.

He tossed a quick look at Danny, watching as he cold cocked a guy with his confiscated frying pan, and turned back to his own battle with a slight curl to his lips.  Danny and his spontaneous weapons of choice; Steve would never grow tired of seeing how the guy would improvise next.

The rain was beginning to come down now, mingling with the wind off the Pacific and the helicopters rotors; it would soon begin to affect his vision.  There weren’t many people left standing on the heli-pad, but there were still too many hostiles for Steve’s peace of mind.

He spotted two men trying to scramble up the stairs across the way.  The chopper’s skids were touching down and Chin and Kono were already leaping from their perches.  Chin with his shotgun up and ready like he had been born with attached to his limbs and Kono heaving out the other side and dragging two large and very heavy looking gas cans with her.

Steve stepped wide and took a shot at the men, knowing his angle wasn’t decent enough for a guaranteed hit but it did the job as the bullets pinged close enough that they went scrambling back the way they had come.  They popped up again and Steve took another shot.  This time when they left he didn’t think they’d be back so quickly but he would need to keep an eye out for them.

There was a momentary lull in the shooting now that Steve wasn’t actively taking out targets, but it was broken by a solitary crack barking over the whirring engines of the chopper.  A feeling of dread washed over him and he turned, intent on finding out who that bullet had been intended for and if it had hit its mark.  He barely managed half a twist when a boot lashed out right in his path, taking him by complete surprise as it connected solidly with his outstretched wrist.  His weapon went flying and his pinky finger snapped from the impact.

He pivoted back on his heel, throwing his arm up just in time to block a roundhouse kick intended for his head and he found himself face to face with her.  Her brown eyes flashed dangerously, her lips pressed together and hair pulled back in a hasty ponytail.  Sometime between the room where she had rushed in to fetch Marcel and now she had lost her tailored blazer and adorned a clearly custom made, form-fitting Kevlar vest.  With a few loose strands of hair framing her beautiful face and the relaxed but nimble way she held herself she was a sight to behold.

Steve grinned.  He was looking forward to putting her down like the female dog she was.

She took a step back, giving herself more room to maneuver, and rolled her shoulders, her eyes never leaving his and they danced around each other a moment, a step here, a step there, gaining an understanding of how the other worked.  He’d known she was dangerous just from the way she walked, but now it was clear that she had training that probably matched his own, and she looked like she really wanted to use it; or else he suspected she would have just shot him in the back and been done with it.

A moment later he was proven right as she attacked with such accurate ferocity that he was forced back a few steps, trying to play catch up to her snake like speed.  She caught him once in the face but he stepped back in time to avoid a knuckle drive to his throat.  She switched up and aimed a roundhouse for his solar plexus so quickly he had no choice but to step into it, taking the blow that was as heavy as any of the men he’d ever fought with so that he could wrap his arm around hers while it was outstretched.  He locked it tight under his arm pit and drove his elbow up and into her cheek.

She grunted, her head snapping to the side before she brought her face around to glare at him, her nose gushing red and he felt a wild satisfaction at the sight.  He’d seen the way she had watched Danny when they’d been in the room together, like a housewife eyeing the neighbor’s dog that came over to piss on her lawn.  Like he was a misbehaving pet that took Marcel’s attention away from her.  Jealousy was not a good look on her and it was even uglier when she was part of the reason Danny had been tortured here in the first place.

Steve did not go easy on her when he threw a fist into her gut, and then a third into her face.  He didn’t go easy on her because she was more than capable of taking him down if he gave her a chance and he was done playing.  He wanted to snap her arm.

She shifted to the side, an ugly sneer on her lips a moment before she head-butted him right on the nose.  It wasn’t enough to daze but it made his eyes tear up and his vision blur, which was why he didn’t see her boot clad foot kick up behind and over her shoulder until it was already smashing into his cheek, her chest pressing into his as she had to arch her back to swing her leg high enough.

The surprise loosened his grip on her arm enough that she could slip her own arm free and she used the distraction to twist and carry her momentum into driving her elbow hard and deep into his chest.  The bone he had thought was fractured earlier snapped under the force of the blow and he stumbled back briefly, shoving the white hot pain away and side stepping just in time to avoid a driving side kick from her apparently double jointed hips.  Having expected her kick to connect she lost her balance briefly, needing to drop the leg to the ground.  He used the fault to full advantage, skipping past her and twisting, throwing an elbow of his own out to connect with the back of her head.

His vision cleared, he could taste blood on his lips mingling with the salty ocean spray and rain that was coming down harder now, it’s icy cold fingers soaking him to the bone.  Just beyond him he caught a glimpse of Chin dragging Danny to the landed chopper, its blades whirring energetically overhead.  His gut clenched at the sight but he couldn’t get to them until she was dealt with.  He twisted back, intent on finishing her off, dropping his left arm to protect his rib.  She straightened up and faced him, no longer nearly as beautiful covered in blood and water and gripping a boot knife in her hand, loose and ready.

No problem.  He’d figured out her style now and he wouldn’t be underestimating her speed again.  He was about to attack her when his neck prickled in warning, his gut flooding with urgency.  He slanted his head to the side, keeping her in his sights while trying to check behind and he saw a blur of movement out of the corner of his eye.  He didn’t think, just reacted, throwing his entire body back in an ungraceful twist and lean that tore at his broken bone.  He felt a sharp sting across his bicep as a large knife blew by him; right where his back had been moments before.

He dropped down, bracing to lunge in any direction once he separated the new threat from the old.  It didn’t take long to realize he didn’t have to worry about either.  To his right the Chef they had come across in the kitchen was stumbling away through the door he’d just popped through, a look of sick fear on his face as he glanced beyond Steve to where the woman was standing.  Her own face was slack in shock, her eyes staring down at the massive carving knife sticking out of her chest, blood already frothing from her mouth.

It felt like a hollow victory as her eyes began to glaze and she fell to the ground, head twisting side to side, body thrashing in a death throe as he watched.  She wasn’t gone yet but his attention was quickly diverted as he searched the area for further threat, his awareness honing in on his teammates as they began to haul Danny bodily into the chopper.  Movement from the cockpit drew his gaze and he saw the pilot twisting frantically, trying to yell out a warning to his team and pointing beyond Kono.  Helping Danny and Chin she didn’t see the last of Danny’s honour guard approaching, his arm lifting and gun swinging around to her unprotected back.

Steve lunged forward, bending down and wrapping his hand around the carving knifes hilt. When he ripped it from the woman’s chest it gave with a disgusting squelch.  It was enough to push her into unconsciousness if she wasn’t already dead.  He didn’t care.  He flipped the blade in his hand, gripping the blood slick tip between his fingers, hauled his arm back, and let it fly.

It slammed into the man’s back, digging in deep just as he pulled the trigger.  The bullet sailed uselessly into the night sky as his body jerked.  He arched as Kono and Chin whirled around, raising their weapons, Chin’s hand streaked in red, to watch as he fell to the ground.  Dead.

Close.  It was too close.  Steve pushed to his feet and ran towards them.

“Get on the chopper!  Let’s go Let’s go!”  He hollered and they obeyed immediately, Chin swinging up first and Kono following close on his heels, twisting around with her rifle up and braced to provide cover fire the moment she was through the door.  Steve wrapped his fingers around the door frame to haul himself up, catching sight of Danny sitting half sprawled on the seat with Chin on his other side checking him over.

“This isn’t over!”  Steve nearly didn’t hear the words, nearly being the magic word.  He froze and turned, spying Marcel standing just beyond the helicopters range, his impeccable clothing in disarray and weighted down by the rain and blood dripping down his neck from where Chin had hit him.  He had a gun in his hand, held calmly down by his hip and he was watching Steve steadily.  Once he saw that he had Steve’s full attention the right side of his mouth curled up.  “This will never be over.”  Steve had to read his lips this time, but the point was made.  He stepped away from the chopper.

“Boss!”  Kono called after him and he looked back, finding Chin looking over her shoulder.

“Keep him safe!” He yelled back.  Kono looked worried and adjusted her stance.  Chin looked past Steve to Marcel, and then leaned forward, handing over the gun from his leg holster and with a calm nod of his head went back to Danny.

Steve stepped away from the door, he held the gun by his own side, finger gently caressing the trigger as he moved swiftly to Marcel.  The man had the presence of mind to step back until his path was blocked by the railing that prevented people from falling overboard.  Steve stopped ten feet away, blinking the water from his eyes.  Marcel lost the grin, shifting on his feet and glaring with the superior air that he favoured.

“You think you can just take him?” He yelled over the din, indicating Danny and the helicopter with his chin.  “Do you really think you’ll be able to hold on to him?  You’re soft McGarrett, you don’t have what it takes to keep him, to use what he has to offer,” his sneer was ugly and hate filled, his eyes drifting occasionally to where Danny was now hidden from him by metal and glass.

Steve watched him darkly, teeth clenched tight and knowing his contempt, his outright disgust, must have been clear for Marcel to see on his face but the guy was unbothered by it.

“I know what it takes,” the man continued, dark eyes staring hard at Steve.  Marcel believed himself to look threatening standing there with his weapon and squared shoulders.  He was used to having his way with the snap of his fingers and a cutting remark.  Guys like him were all the same: egotistical bullies with kingly complexes and the temperament of a cranky five year old at bed time.  The only difference between him and any other gang leader was that he had millions of dollars behind his name and a shipping company handed over by daddy dearest.

He was no threat to Steve.  He was a threat to Danny.

The wind from the chopper was pelting the rain at his back, it was beginning to sting through his clothing and hurt his neck.  He kept watching Marcel, waiting for him to make the final move.

“With him, with whatever the hell it is that makes it possible for him to heal with a touch!  I could make enough money to buy out Bill Gates and have the immortality to enjoy it forever!” His snide grin was back as he looked Steve up and down, shaking his head.  “You can have him for now,” he oh so graciously allowed and took a step towards Steve.  “But I know who he is.  I know what he looks like and I will find him, no matter where he goes,” he bared his teeth at Steve.  “He belongs to me.”

Steve ground his teeth but kept silent.  He had nothing to say that the man would understand.

“Go!” Marcel jabbed his empty hand at the helicopter.  “Fix him, and then ask him how long he’ll be willing to run and hide.  Ask him how long he thinks he can keep his Jersey family safe.  Ask him how he can keep his daughter safe if he’s too busy cowering from me-”

Marcel’s true downfall was his apparent inability to understand how far Steve was willing to go to protect Danny and his family.

Steve’s arm snapped up the moment the man uttered daughter.  Bang Bang Bang.  Three bullets as close to the heart as he could manage.  Marcel was dead before he could sing another threat to Danny and his little girl.  The body slumped backwards against the railing and Steve, as calm and efficient as he had been trained to be, didn’t hesitate to step forward and help Marcel’s carcass slip over the metals edge and plunge into the unforgiving waters below.

Steve didn’t bother to watch him fall.

=====================================

Chapter 17
Masterpost