CHAPTER ONE

He came to with a smell like cordite in his nostrils and the taste of blood in his mouth. Ears ringing he tried to sit up and winced as pain shot through his side, cracked ribs complaining as his muscles worked.

Through eyes fogged by smoke his first thought was of his partner. He scanned the area, aware of where Danny had been a few minutes earlier but now was nowhere to be seen.

There was blood on the pavement, tiny splatters around where he lay and a bigger, more worrying pool of it where Williams had been. Debris was all around.

Now he was panicking.

Groaning, Steve tried to stand up and he fell back as his legs failed him. His hands were shaking uncontrollably and his mind racing. He wasn't even sure what had happened it was all too fast.

All he remembered was Danny's warning shout as he pushed McGarrett away from the car, then a bright light and darkness.

Once more he tried to stand and this time, he managed it. Steve grasped his ribcage, every breath causing him pain as he got slowly from his knees to his feet. He was alive, thanks to Danno. But where was his detective?

The explosion had torn through the vehicle and left nothing but wreckage. The inside was still on fire, leather burned to a crisp and any evidence destroyed. Red doors lay like dead butterflies from where they had blown off their hinges and an unfortunate young palm tree by the kerbside had been rendered in two by flying metal, emerald leaves scorched and blackened.

"Danno!?"

No answer.

Swaying and holding his side, Steve surveyed the scene but a quick glance told him what he feared, that Danny was missing. He couldn't see the younger man anywhere – all that was left was his ruby red blood.

Exhausted and in shock Steve's knees gave way and he dropped to the tarmac, the hot grey material looming towards him as his vision blurred. He needed to rest but he needed to find Danny more. He couldn't understand where Williams had gone.

From the corner of his eye someone rushed towards him. A bystander had seen the explosion and hidden from view until he felt it safe to come out. Eyes as wide as saucers the store owner crouched down beside McGarrett and put a hand on his shoulder.

"You okay mister?" The man asked anxiously.

His breath smelled of alcohol and his clothes of tobacco and it nauseated Steve but he managed to speak through a throat seared by heat, "Call Five-0 – get Kalakua or Kelly."

"You're hurt! I'll get an ambulance." He said and took out a totally inadequate and discoloured handkerchief and pressed it against Steve's face. Up until then Steve hadn't even noticed he was bleeding from where shrapnel had cut his cheek.

"Thanks," he said and replaced the man's hand with his own as he tried to stem the flow of blood.

As the man tried to leave Steve grabbed his wrist and the guy's eyes widened even further. "Tell me," he asked groggily, "Did you see what happened?"

The man nodded his head. "Some. I…I heard the explosion. My shop is over there.." he said pointing to a now windowless emporium.

Steve closed his eyes, aware that he could black out but needing answers, "What about the other man?" He asked desperately.

"Which other man?"

"The man who was with me, I think he's injured. Did you see what happened to him?

"Oh…that man." The owner responded and his eyes dropped to the ground as if he found the shattered glass of deep interest all of a sudden.

Steve grabbed the man's collar and pulled him towards him until they were eye to eye. The man struggled and gripped McGarrett's fist. "What happened to him?!" He asked angrily.

"Steady on, I'm just trying to help you know!"

McGarrett loosened his hold and winced when his ribs complained. He apologised, "Sorry. But it's important to me."

The shopkeeper nodded, "He was lying over there. I ah…I think he was dead."

Steve followed the man's gaze but of Danno there was no sign. "Where? Where is he?" He asked, voice rising in panic.

"The car. There was a car!"

"Car?"

"I saw two men. They got out, picked him up and drove off."

"Help me up would you?" Steve asked and the small man struggled to help the Five-0 Chief to rise on his weak legs.

Once standing McGarrett proudly took his arm from around his helper's waist and straightened his mussed hair, before replacing the cotton to his bleeding cheek. He couldn't understand why anyone would take Danny Williams and not knowing that, or the condition his friend was in, was worrying him more than any of his own injuries.

"Which direction did they go?"

A small crowd was forming now and an HPD car rolled up. One of the bystanders must have called it in, McGarrett realised with relief.

The store owner pointed up the road.

"They raced out of here pretty fast, didn't even stop to check on you! Do you know them?"

McGarrett shook his head and replied distractedly, "No, I don't know them and I don't know why they would have taken Danno either."

They heard the siren before the ambulance arrived and then all seemed to happen at once. The HPD officers pushed back the public, keeping them at a safe distance, the ambulance crew started checking him over and the pounding in his ears got worse.

Steve felt vaguely disconnected with it all, the noise, the smell, the carnage; it all seemed a million miles away. All except for the last shout of Danno's, his friend's blue eyes staring at him in shock and the blood on the ground. "What have they done with Danno?"

"You okay? Hey…mister…you okay…?" The shopkeeper's voice grew fainter and fainter and the light bled from his mind as he slowly sank into the arms of an ambulance man, unconscious.

Thomas Rent' Barlow was a former small-time crook with big-time ambitions. He owned a string of gambling dens in Honolulu, all of which were paid for by the night club he inherited from his parents. He was wealthy but not overly so.

Donny and Lulu Barlow had doted on their son but as a child little Tommy's ambition was to run their night club and as a teenager nothing stood in his way. After a particularly nasty fight with his beloved family involving their bringing up the touchy subject of some schoolgirl friends of his he had been pimping on the side, young Tommy was told never to set foot in the Club again. His response to this was to arrange for a couple of his more muscular friends to don masks and capes and beat his parents to death – in front of him. It was all very theatrical and Tommy enjoyed the spectacle. The police never found their killers and whilst Master Tommy Barlow was a strong suspect no one could prove his involvement.

Now Thomas was in his forties and no one told him what he could or couldn't do. The Night Club was renamed Phantom' in honour of those muscle-bound friends and he began transforming it from a regular place of entertainment to a seedy den of iniquity. He liked it that way.

'Rent' was his nickname as anyone could rent Barlow – for a price.

This particular day he sat behind his expensive desk in his lavishly appointed office, picking his nails with a paper knife and whistling the National Anthem. He felt patriotic; he was doing his country a favour.

There was a hurried knock at the door and upon his command the imported walnut doors opened and two of his men came in dragging what looked to be a bundle of rags.

Angry that his expensive Turkish carpet (also imported) was being subjected to goodness-knew-what dirt, Rent stood up and dropped the knife to the desk with a clatter.

"What is this?" He asked, pointing at the bundle which turned out to be a man and not a jumble sale collection.

"What you asked for." One of his rookies replied and dumped the package onto the patterned wool.

"What I asked for?" Rent said, stepping around the side of his desk and eyeing the charred offering with distaste. Kicking the body with a polished brogue he added, "Turn him over."

His men complied and Tommy grimaced as he saw the state of the injured man, his clothes had been blown almost from his body and his face and chest were bruised and singed as were his pants. There was also a great deal of blood on the man's thigh that was threatening to stain his carpet.

Walking back to his desk he casually picked up the blotter and placed it under the wound so that any leakages would soak into the paper and not his prized possession.

Taking out a handkerchief from his pocket and wiping his hands, he looked back at the man who had spoken and said, "Remind me again Brett – exactly what did I ask for?"

Brett looked at his colleague for reassurance before replying, "Well boss, you told us to bring you Steve McGarrett."

Rent nodded, "Exactly! Well done! I told you to bring me Steve McGarrett and this is?" he added, pointing to the unconscious man on the floor.

Now both of his employees looked confused.

"Any time you feel like answering, please just go ahead."

"But this is McGarrett!" Brett said.

Rent crouched down and lifted the head of the wounded man up by his curls. "No this, gentlemen, is Williams - McGarrett's sidekick." He dropped Danny's head back to the floor with a thud and stood up, the whole of his five-foot-four frame facing the two taller men. "Care to explain?"

"I don't understand," Brett's partner piped up, "You told us where McGarrett would be and this is the only person who was there! It has to be him!"

Cronies could sometimes try a man's patience. Rent closed his eyes briefly before replying. "I told you that one of our rivals intended to lure McGarrett out into the open. I said nothing about him being alone. Have neither of you ever seen the celebrated Five 0 Chief in the papers? This most definitely is NOT the person I asked for. And what on earth happened to him?!"

Brett's partner stepped forward to face his boss.

"Take those ridiculous shades off so I can see your eyes!" Rent complained and both men did as they were told.

"Um, there was an explosion boss."

"Did you do that?" The small man asked, knowing full well neither of them were bright enough but prepared to be impressed just in case a miracle should occur.

"Um..no..it happened just before we got there!" The man explained.

"So what? You were following McGarrett as I instructed and you got to the scene as whatever bomb it was went off and you simply picked up the nearest body conveniently lying to hand and thought to yourselves that must be McGarrett let's have him'? Hmmn?"

Brett could see his partner was in some distress trying to compute what Barlow had said so he answered for him, "Uh yuh, that's what happened, right Noah?"

Noah' nodded.

Barlow clapped his hands together and sarcasm dripped from his mouth, "Well, well now see how we are progressing!? Slowly but still progressing. So tell me – did you actually look around after the explosion to see if there was anyone else there; perhaps injured or lying a little away from this man?"

"Uh.."

"You see, that's what I find intriguing about the pair of you. You both want to go far in this business don't you?" Rent asked and picked a piece of fluff off his jacket as he crossed his arms.

"Uh..yeah I guess." Noah said and Brett just stared at his boss.

"Well I like that in a man, ambition is good. SO WHY CAN'T YOU THINK FOR YOURSELVES FOR A CHANGE?!!" he suddenly shouted and both men winced from the outburst.

"Sorry boss." Brett offered.

"Yuh." Noah added as an afterthought.

"Too little, too late I'm afraid. I shall note it on your records of course. Now get that thing' out of here while I try to think. McGarrett is still out there unless he's dead and I want my cash. There's an open contract and I will collect! Leave me be while I think of our next move."

Noah and Brett bent down and picked Danny back up by the arms and legs, hoisting his limp body between them.

"Oh and you'd better give him some kind of first aid. I'm not completely sure what we are going to do with our Mister Williams yet but I may need him alive. Now get out!"

They did.

"And shut the door!"

They did.