Summary: Steve and Danny find themselves in a predicament. How many pieces will be left when everything is blown to smithereens?
[smith-uh-reenz] –plural noun small pieces
The first thing he became aware of was that something was tickling his nose. Immediately thereafter was the knowledge that his nose was crushed, followed by the fact that it was crushed and something was tickling it because his head was resting on something nose-first.
After that, two sharp, simultaneous jolts of pain through his shoulders led to the understanding that his wrists were killing him and felt chafed, and then finally the realization that this was because he was hanging from them. He swung his feet a bit and found he could just barely reach what he assumed to be a floor with the toes of his boots.
He tried to steady himself best he could and lifted his head only to then be notified by his aching body that his head hurt twice as much as the rest of him. There was someone else breathing and it was pitch black when he forced his eyes to blink open.
"Shit," he whispered, taking a couple of deep breaths to steady himself against the pain. On the second inhale he suddenly became acutely aware of what exactly his nose had been smashed against. He'd know the combo scent of his partner anywhere. "Danny?" His voice sounded foreign to his own ears.
There was no response, so he tried again, saying the name a little louder. He received a grunt in response Thank God, he's alive. and inhaled again, trying to calm himself and remember what had happened that he found himself hanging next to his partner like a side of beef.
They'd gotten to Makai Pier where Chin's triangulation of about ten different pieces of cellphone and WiFi signal-based transmissions had concluded their suspect had disappeared to. Chin and Kono were going to call in the SWAT team, but since Danny and Steve had stopped for lunch not twenty minutes up Kalanianaole Highway it was a no-brainer they'd get there first.
"We're just going to see if we can pinpoint his location so the backup will know where to strike," Steve remembered assuring Danny.
"Which always," Danny said, pulling out his gun and clicking the safety off before re-holstering it, "means one of us is going to get shot. Or, at the very least, that there will be blood."
Steve had cut his eye across the seat. The gleam in his partner's eye told him he was not only there to have his back, but was going to charge in with him shoulder-to-shoulder. Like always. "What, no explosions, Danno?"
"Stop calling me that."
Smirking, Steve turned his attention back to the road. In no time, they'd reached the pier. It was raining lightly, headed for a downpour according to the forecast. But there were a lot of cars on-site, both outside the chain link fence parked along the highway, as well as clustered around the large beige warehouse and administrative offices for Makai Ocean Engineering beyond it at the end of the pier.
"You find it a little odd?" Danny asked, and Steve read in between that the rest of the words unsaid. For all his joy at blustering through a lecture about police procedure, when it came down to adrenaline-pumping brought on by chasing suspects, Danny could be downright cryptic.
Steve nodded. "No reason for Yoshitomi to have someone stashed inside Makai that I can see."
They'd arrived without lights or sirens. Steve got out of the car and eyeballed the landscape. Nothing seemed untoward, but those were usually the cases where all hell was just waiting to open up a can on them as soon as they took a step. Danny got out of the passenger side and was soon next to him, scrutinizing Kalanianaole Highway rather than the pier itself.
Steve felt, more than saw, the change in Danny's posture. "What?" he whispered, keeping his eyes on the nearer beige warehouse.
"Blue house, your four o'clock," Danny replied, turning his face up to Steve's but keeping his eyes down the road to their right.
Knowing that there wasn't going to be an easy way for him to check it out without being obvious about it, Steve hissed, "Hit me."
Danny's mouth quirked. "My pleasure," he replied, hauling back purposely with his left hand and connecting with Steve's right cheek.
Steve grunted and rolled upright along the side of the Camaro, stopping himself on the trunk, hands flat on its hot surface. Now having the perfect line of sight, he looked up at the blue house hidden behind a single row of trees. The road leading up to the house was directly opposite the Makai Pier driveway. His twenty-second glance told him there was at least one man standing outside peering through the trees at them.
Rubbing his cheek and turning to face his red-faced, hollering partner, Steve let their eyes connect and slowly Danny turned off the show, throwing his hands up as though conceding whatever the point in the argument was supposed to have been. Steve got right up in his face and pointed a finger at Danny.
"Back in the car," he said quietly before yelling at Danny to get the fuck back into the car and fucking forget about it, whatever 'it' was supposed to have been. Damn, his jaw hurt, and he wondered just how much past frustration that had taken off Danny's shoulders. He had to fight to keep from smirking at that train of thought as the engine turned over and he backed out of the Makai Pier entry.
Half a second's hesitation as Danny pulled his gun out and then Steve gunned it in reverse, making the curve and the rest of the short distance to the blue house that way. A shotgun fired, blowing Danny's window out and then Steve's. Danny cursed a blue streak and unbuckled his belt just as something small, black and round sailed past his head, bounced off the dashboard and landed in Steve's lap.
Greenish smoke billowed from it and Steve registered what it was as his body went rigid. Zap gas! Seconds later he was unconscious.
Now, eyes having adjusted to the dark, Steve could barely make out their surroundings. "Danny, come on, I need you alert," he said, scanning the shapes in the shadows. "We're in a basement, come on."
He got a low groan in response.
"That shit was in my lap, Danny, and I'm already conscious, come on, dammit!"
"Don't say it," Steve growled.
Another groan. "What was it?"
"Zap gas. Haven't seen it since Qarchak."
"What the hell is Qarchak?"
Steve smirked. "We're strung up but I can touch the floor."
Finally Danny raised his head and Steve knew immediately from the fact that they were nearly eye-level there was no way Danny's feet could touch the floor. He felt a pang of sympathy, knowing Danny's wrists and shoulders must be about ready to dislocate as a result.
"Shit," Danny gasped as he tried to move his feet and the movement jerked on the metal clasps surrounding his wrists.
"Support yourself on me," Steve said, trying to peer beyond the furnace he saw in the far corner alongside a water heater.
"How?" Danny ground out, voice laced with pain.
"Can you swing your legs around me?" Steve asked, mind not actually on the question or his answer.
"Sure, if I want to scream like a girl when it tears my hands off my arms."
The sarcastic response got Steve's attention. "It'll take the pressure off."
"And I'll pass out in the process." Danny took a couple deep breaths. "Tell me you've got a plan."
"Working on it," Steve replied, looking up at the three-inch pipe they were chained to. Standard chain-gang type shackles, about a foot long between wrists. The pipe disappeared into the wall three feet behind Danny. Steve looked up and twisted himself around to follow the pipe in the other direction. "Damn, goes up into the floor."
"Can we...dislodge it?" Danny asked, pain making it tough for him to breathe normally.
Steve's brow furrowed as he studied what he could see. "Depends on what it attaches to up there." He heard a sharp intake of breath and whipped back around to face his partner. "Hey, you all right?"
"Fucking...peachy," Danny growled in response.
He could see Danny's face well enough to feel concern rise in his chest that it was a very real possibility he was going to pass out on Steve within the next couple minutes. That was when something else seeped into his consciousness. Steve cocked his head to listen, trying to pinpoint the sound. It seemed to be coming from the far corner and his eyes zoomed to the furnace.
Whirr-click! Whirr-click! Whirr-click!
"Shit!" he spat, jerking uselessly at the shackles. He swung his legs side to side but the pipe was solid. "Shit!"
"Bomb," Steve replied, feeling every muscle tense in response to hearing himself say it out loud.
"-the fuck?" Danny swore, crying out as his involuntary attempt to get away pulled relentlessly on his wrists.
Eyes darting around the basement, Steve noted the solid concrete wall behind Danny, then looked down at his partner who panted and seemed ghastly pale even in the darkness. "You can punch me for real later," he said.
Without taking the time to even try to explain, Steve used the soles at the tips of his boots to slam himself into Danny. The chains slid along the metal pipe and Danny very literally screamed in agonizing pain until he let out an "Oof!" as Steve's body slammed him against the wall.
Steve looked up and looped his chain up and over top of Danny's, crowding himself up against his partner as close as he could, pinning him to the wall. He hunched forward, using his biceps and shoulders to shield Danny's head and face. He felt Danny's mouth moving against the hollow of his throat and struggled to wrap his legs around his partner's waist and hips.
Steeling himself for what he knew was about to come, when the explosion sounded, all Steve was aware of was a searing pain before he knew no more.