"Holy crap! You wanna watch where the hell you're driving?!" Danny cries as a car veers around them, honking.
"We can't lose him, Danny! I will not lose him!" McGarret snaps. He jerks the wheel to the left, making a screeching turn in pursuit of the killer.
Danny shakes his head in the passenger seat, thinking about the fact that if they're dead then Lennon gets away with it anyway. A wave of nausea comes over him and he closes his eyes. He wasn't feeling too good this morning, and now his partner's erratic driving is making his stomach churn and his head spin.
"You okay?" McGarret asks before making another very sharp turn.
"Uhn. Yeah," Danny answers, feeling like he's going to puke any second. He frowns. "Where the hell is he going?"
They've gotten out of the city, and now they're driving on an empty road toward the middle of nowhere.
"Kono, any ideas?" McGarret barks into his comm. "Kono! Damn it, our radio isn't working."
A pit has begun to form in Danny's stomach, one that has nothing to do with his feeling ill. "Something is wrong."
No sooner do the words come out of his mouth than an SUV barrels into them and in a mess of crunching glass and twisting metal, everything goes dark.
McGarret comes to slowly. Everything is aching, and his head feels like it's ready to split open. He's sitting on the floor, his back against a wooden pole, his wrists cuffed behind him. He can feel blood, warm and sticky, on his head and down the side of his face. A groan slips from his lips.
"Steve? 's that you?" a voice asks a from a few feet in front him.
"Yeah, it's me Danny," he answers, relieved that his partner is conscious as well. "You okay?"
"Fine." But there was a little too much hesitation, a little too much pain behind the word and any relief McGarret may have felt melts away.
"What about you?"
"I'm fine. Got a bitch of a headache, but I'm good. They've got me blindfolded though."
"We're in some sort of abandoned boathouse or something. You know, big room, dirt floor, more doors than windows." Danny gasps suddenly and Steve winces as his partner begins to retch.
"Danno! You alright?" he asks, turning his head in Danny's general direction. "Hey! Are you okay?" The smell of vomit wafts toward him, and he almost loses his breakfast, too.
Danny coughs, then sits in silence, catching his breath. "Yeah," he finally says.
"Just because I can't see you doesn't mean I don't know. Tell me what's really going on with you," Steve says with finality. He's greeted with silence. "Danny!"
"I…I wasn't feeling too hot this morning. Just a bug, I think," Danny admits.
"And we just got hit by an SUV! Don't tell me you're fine! I need you to be honest with me."
"I think I may have a few cracked ribs. But that's it. I'm fine," Danny insists.
McGarret still gets the distinct feeling that Danny is withholding something, but he decides to keep his mouth shut for now.
There's a creaking sound, and Danny whispers urgently, "Someone's coming in!"
"Yeah, I know. I'm blindfolded, not deaf. Lennon?"
"Yeah," Danny breathes.
"Hello, Detective Williams. McGarret. Glad to have you with me. It took awhile, but now look! Here we are!"
McGarret shifts, turning toward Lennon's voice. "Why'd you kill Scott?"
"Well, I had to get your attention somehow. How the hell else was I supposed to do it? Now, down to business. You are privy to some information that I need."
McGarret's blood is boiling. "You really think I'm going to help you?" he growls.
"Um, yes. I do."
There's the sound of flesh connecting with flesh and a sickening crack, and Danny lets out a scream.
"No! You son of a bitch!" McGarret cries, jerking forward so the cuffs cut into his wrists.
"Steve," Danny gasps. "Don't tell him any-gah!" He's cut off by another blow, and McGarret bellows in anger. Lennon puts a hand on the back of his head.
"I'll be back, Steve. Think about it. Anything that happens to your partner is on your head."
McGarret sits in angry silence until he hears the door open and close. As soon as Lennon is out of the room, McGarret is leaning forward as much as his restraints allow him to.
"Danny. Danny!" There's no response. McGarret can hear his partner's pained, wheezing breaths and he feels sick. "Dammit, Danno, come on. Come on! Talk to me!"
"Don' soun'…so worried," Danny says, his speech slightly slurred.
"Danny, thank God. Hang in there, okay partner? We're gonna get out of here."
"Don' tell 'em anything, Steve. Don'…don' tell 'em." Danny sounds like he's going to cry, and McGarret feels a sharp stab of guilt.
"I won't tell them anything, Danny. I promise."