Chapter Text
“God, you’re sooo screwed.” Tony groaned, dropping his head to his desk as the NCIS internal Database flickered dead, barely two seconds after he’d finished typing the name of the Sea Hawk’s commanding admiral into the search field.
He wasn’t exactly surprised that he’d been caught; in fact, he’d been surprised that the system had even booted up for him in the first place. The admiral had someone in the radio room keeping a close watch on every radio call and computer search Tony made, and one of his harassers in the room but out of camera range during every message from Gibbs (close enough to cut him off thirty seconds before he could work up a decent set of clues from whatever their current conversations were to tip off his boss that things were rotten in Denmark).
He should have realized that it was probably a test to see if their … intimidation campaign … for lack of a better phrase… had done its trick, not that that would have ensured that he would have been given a chance to get off the ship if it had, but now it was a certainty. Not only had his rash reaction to the announcement - that the Sea Hawk would be docking in Maui for a refit and shore leave - doomed his chances of getting off the ship, but they had been very dedicated in inflicting consequences for bucking their system. He shuddered at the thought of going through another round before they wore themselves and him out – and dumped him overboard with a staged ‘accidental fall and blow to the skull’ to cover their other assaults if his bloated and carrion fish-ravaged body ever got close-enough to the pacific coast to wash on-shore. It was a shame too; before he’d discovered that the command staff was up to no good, Tony had actually looked forward to the prospect of touring the Hawaiian Isles and visiting all of Magnum P.I.’s filming locations.
Too bad Magnum wasn’t a real guy; Tony really could have used a gun-toting, rule-breaking Seal, on his six, with an island network that could keep him out of his shipmates’ line of sight long enough to get word to Gibbs that the USS Sea Hawk’s command was all kinds of hinky... and if he could have found a place to hide and pull himself together, at least enough that he didn’t jump at loud noises and careless brushes or start trembling when lights cut, that would have been good, too. No way did he want Gibbs to see him like this.
The boss might still be pissed at him over what happened with Shepard, but Gibbs was pretty stubborn about how his people were treated, and no one seemed to have the right to make their lives hell, except Gibbs, himself. The last thing anyone needed was the boss going off half-cocked on a revenge campaign or unnecessarily risking his life as he had with Ari. Tony hadn’t been able to discover much about the admiral and what he was doing, but one thing he had discovered was that the Admiral – like most of his rank – was seriously well-connected… like SecNav well-connected.
Behind him, the previously-locked latch opened quietly, proving his suspicion that at least one of his suspects had the security codes for open access to all quarters. Lifting his head, Tony steeled himself for their quick assault, realizing that he wasn’t going to be given the chance to get out of his seat, but the cord wrapping around his throat still caught him by surprise. He clawed at the braided cord as it tightened, cutting off his air supply, forcing his still-damaged lungs to fight for every breath, until the relentless pressure finally stole his consciousness and he slumped into his assailant’s embrace.
ブレンキン
“Steve, God Damn it! Will you PLEASE answer your phone?” Danny Williams demanded as Steve tried to ignore the annoying caller, who’d had the bad timing to call right at the start of a briefing and the stubbornness to stay on or redial so quickly that it effectively circumvented the voice-mail system.
Kono snickered in the background, and Chin just raised an eyebrow waiting either for Steve’s outburst or response.
Shoving down his embarrassment, Steve punched the button to run the phone to speaker and answered it curtly. He couldn’t deny he was curious. It wasn’t from dispatch or any of their other internal numbers; he used a different dial tone for those. The same applied to phone calls from the Governor, his seal commander, and his sister Mary, but he couldn’t think of anyone else who would be calling so determinately.
“You Sorry Son of a Bitch, why the hell are you making me wait so long for an answer?” A man’s voice on the other end of the phone answered far too casually, both for the man, and for the fact that he’d made the call ring at least ten minutes,
“Hanna? What the hell are you doing calling me at work? Are you in port?”
“Nah, not yet, but we’ll be there soon enough, tomorrow ten o’clock at the latest, so I’ve got a favor to ask of you.”
“Shoot.” Steve responded grimly - the fact that Hanna had called him insistently at work for a favor more than enough to tell him the type of help his former teammate was going to request.
“So, it will probably take me two hours to clear receiving, but after that, do you think you could get me in with one of your dentist friends? I’ve got a broken crown I’d like to get taken care of.”
“You could go to the base doc’s, you know?”
“Nah, something about knowing we’re military seems to make ‘em think we want ‘em to go drilling for pleasure, forget the Novocain. I want one of those gentle laid-back islanders you brag about. “
“Okay, I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thanks man, I really appreciate it, but don’t be late, okay? I bit down on it earlier and thought I was going to lose it completely.”
“Tomorrow then?”
“Yeah, tomorrow.”
“Later, Brah.”
“Whatever…” the man on the other end cut the conversation off with a laugh.
Looking up, Steve was startled to see the others staring at him with mixed expressions of dread and confusion.
“Kono, run the files down to dispatch and get back up here quick. “
He raised a hand to forestall their questions, and explained, “Give me a minute, and I’ll explain when she gets back.”
Flipping his cellphone out, he quickly dialed in the code to trigger the encryption function and started almost before the Governor answered, “Governor, it looks like we’ve got a problem headed our way. I’ve just been called in to make an extraction outside of channels – low profile and only my team.”
“Is that the only information you have?” she asked impatiently.
“No, Governor, the extraction is for an injured federal agent, but that’s about all I do know at this moment. I need to ask for access to the drug task force’s equipment and silhouette.”
“Your request is pretty thin on information, for a request like that?’
“If we wait for more information, it will probably be from the agent’s body washing ashore, Governor.”
“Subtle.” She retorted grimly.
“We don’t have time for subtle.”
“Very well, but your report will be best received if it’s made in person, very detailed, and does not end up with me being asked to explain myself before a panel of the top military officials in the islands…. For a second time.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” Steve answered with an amused smirk.
He’d been prepared to ‘misappropriate’ the silhouette, if she hadn’t given her approval, and deal with the consequences afterward, but the time her approval saved was well-worth the call.
Her slightly sarcastic assurance that she was looking forward to his report ended the conversation, and he turned back to his team – expecting Chin’s raised eyebrow and Kono’s questioning expression, but not the frustrated almost angry expression on Danny’s.
“Care to tell me how we go from looking into the death of an IA officer investigating the loss of 50 keys of coke from the evidence locker to a covert operation using HPD resources on the basis of a phone call about a dentist?”
“The message was clearly coded.” Chin offered helpfully.
“I kind of figured that out, Chin, thanks, “ Danny grimaced. “I want to know what the code meant, who it was from, where exactly we’re extracting the agent from, and how did you know it was about a federal agent anyway?”
“Fine. Get your gear. I’ll catch you up on the way.”
“On the way where?”
“Weren’t you listening? To the silhouette’s dock, we’ve got about just under two hours to get in place.”
“And just WHERE is ‘IN PLACE’?!?”
“Don’t know yet, I’ll find out on the way.”
“STEVE!” Danny protested in a tone that promised a significant pout during their ride to the docks.
“Get your ass in gear, Danno, and you’ll find out just as soon as I do.” Steve promised, trying to stifle his amusement. He couldn’t help it. He’d never admit it to Danny’s face – he’d probably get shot if he did- but when Danny started squawking about him running off half-cocked, not even knowing where he was going, it always set off a soft spot for Steve. As much as Danny complained about working with him, frequently calling him reckless and irresponsible, his partner clearly cared about Steve; he wouldn’t get so mad otherwise, especially when it was just Steve going off on his own.
“Doesn’t ANYONE else think this is insane? Just running off without a clue in hell where we’re going?”
And there IT was: the exact phrase that made Steve have to hide his smile when Danny started to rant; he glanced away, his gaze catching with Kono’s knowing eyes, and he fought to suppress it further. Kono might have caught on to his affection, and he was sure she had from the sometimes amused, sometimes sympathetic glances she gave him when some of Danny’s comments caught him off guard – sometimes for the better, sometimes not. He could never let Danny catch on, though.
Steve was under no allusion to how his partner would react if he realized Steve’s feelings for him. Steve had worked with too many uptight officers, both on the force and in the Seals, to not know how they reacted to the slightest hint of homoerotic feelings… and Steve’s feelings were miles beyond the slightest hint.
“Steve, Brah, we’re ready.” Chin brought Steve out of his thoughts, wearing his silent “do you need to talk?” expression.
“Okay, Fine, let’s move.” Steve answered with a shake of his head. As they made their way down to the garage, he pulled out his phone and made the calls needed to find out, without leaving a trace, what ship Hanna was currently listed on and where that ship would be in two hours.
Thankfully, the Governor’s permission had reached the docks before Steve and his team, so the silhouette was gassed and ready, loaded with more equipment than Steve could have anticipated, including five dive suits and tanks, plus two emergency tanks.
“Suit up everybody; yes, that means you too, Danno. I’m not planning for either you or Kono to be in the water, but it’s better if you’re suited up, in case you have to go over for any reason.”
Danny groused, but complied, and asked him if he could finally explain the code.
“Sure, Danny, Hanna and I made up a handful of scenarios to cover various possible missions. As short as his message was, it was pretty thickly layered. A trip to the dentist means an extraction; that he couldn’t go to the base dentists implies he’s worried about someone on the inside, a mole, or at least surveillance on the inside. That he wanted a laid back islander – suggests it was the former, and he asked me to pick people I trusted…”
“The choice of tooth reflects who the extraction is: a cavity is the suspect; a root canal is a corrupt official; a molar is a soldier or officer; a crown is an agent; a gold crown is a US agent, silver is a foreign agent, and nickel's a double agent; a wisdom tooth is a key leader - officer or not; impacted means they have a guard; broken, cracked, or chipped refers to how seriously they’re injured. That he’d ‘like to get it taken care of’ says the extraction’s a good man, otherwise, he’d have said the tooth was a pain and he’d like to get rid of it. That he had bitten down on it and was afraid he’d lose it – tells me that he was forced to hurt or incapacitate the agent he was trying to protect down to keep him from being killed outright. “
“Okay, I can see how all of those make sense, but how does that give you the extraction’s location?”
“He said when his ship was going to arrive, which let me pinpoint which ship he’s on; the guy I called can be trusted to keep a secret, by the way, and he pulled up their location and projected it for two hours from the call. “
“Okay, so we’re headed out there to what? Board the boat? It’s not even dark out, how are we supposed to slip on…”
“Nope. Remember how he said not to be late and that it’d take two hours to clear receiving?” Steve shook his head already knowing how Danny was going to take what he had to say next.
“Yeaaah?” Danny replied hesitantly, clearly suspecting that he wasn’t going to like it either.
“He said he’d clear receiving so we won’t have to worry about contact with the suspects; they would be gone by the two hour point. “
“You’re not telling me that … for Christ’s sake, tell me that you’re not saying your friend’s going to dump a seriously injured federal agent into the ocean? And I thought you were a psycho!”
As many times as Danny had said it before, that time stung, and though he hid it well enough from Danny, he knew from Chin’s narrowed gaze that his friend had seen it.
Chin was discreet though and simply responded in a soft, casual tone, “deep-cover operatives are not always able to help the innocents and unlucky bystanders they run across, without jeopardizing the operation and putting a greater number of innocents to risk.”
Danny nodded, running a nervous hand through his short hair, spiking it even further in his frustration, “Yeah, Christ… Christ, I know that... I just…It’s just these are the kind of cases I hate, the ones that aren’t even cases, but we’re working them because people who are supposed to be dedicated to their jobs and countries decide that everything they’ve been taught and trained for isn’t worth shit, and they don’t just turn on the people they’re supposed to protect but the ones they’ve fought and trained beside, too, and then men like Steve and his friend, and probably the agent we’re going after, are called in to fix matters without regard because someone has to do the dirty work, but when is it going to be his friend that’s dumped in the middle of the fucking ocean, in hopes that Steve or someone else will get there in time? When will it be Steve?”
Steve turned away from him, his eyes misting up slightly as he tried to keep Danny from seeing the effect of his comments. Of course he’d known that Danny worried about him; Danny’s none-too-infrequent tantrums had been enough to tell him that, but to hear the thoughts behind them, was something else again.
ブレンキン
Groaning through his abused throat, Tony weakly rolled from his back to his side then over onto his knees, gasping into the thin narrow gaps in the cold metal grate covering the pipe to a drain tank. As he watched, the valve to the pipe shut, and down the tube, he heard another opening. He had been beaten up enough times before to know that unconsciousness could be a blessed relief, but this was the first time in his memory that waking up alone, with a chance to escape hadn’t been quite the relief he’d thought it would be.
Fighting the urge to vomit from the pain and dizziness that plagued each move, Tony began to push himself with his knees down the tube. He still wasn’t fully conscious enough to have the coordination or strength he needed to get his hands and knees under himself, but knew without question that he didn’t have the time to wait until the numbness left his uncoordinated limbs.
After his attackers, including the admiral, himself, had all taken ‘one last shot at him’, the man with the cord did his job again, strangling him almost to unconsciousness for a second time, before hefting his body in a fireman’s carry. As he carried Tony down the hall, he hissed warnings so quietly that Tony, whose head was at the man’s shoulder, could barely hear it, and the men accompanying them, jostling and laughing as if they were all engaged in a juvenile prank, were overacting so thoroughly that they couldn’t have heard it, either.
“…Possum till the breech door shuts…”
“Your best chance …”
“make it to the muzzle door…”
“-ey fill the tube… “
“ –old your brea—…”
“ride the water jam, then start swimming.”
“… extraction. McGarrett…”
“A dickhead, but a good man.”
Whatever other warnings his strangely helpful strangler may have given him went unheard as the effects of his attacker’s rough treatment, two stranglings, and the pressure of the man’s shoulder on Tony’s ribcage (compressing his still weakened lungs), caused him to black out again.
He didn’t even feel it when they dumped him into what he now recognized, with a dizzying swell of dread, as a torpedo tube… answering his earlier mental question about how they intended to stage an accidental drowning and dump his body before dark.
He was barely halfway down the tube when the overhead valve opened and water began to pour in to the narrow tunnel.