Author's note - This story was originally posted in August of 2008. I have recently reedited it and hope it has strengthened the original version. All mistakes are mine. As always, constructive criticism is appreciated and welcomed.
.
One Last Moment
.
…ka-plink, ka-plink, ka-plink, ka-plink…
The sound of a ping pong ball bouncing back and forth echoed throughout the almost vacant squad room, its rhythm interspersed with bits of conversation. Two detectives stood on opposite ends of the playing table, locked in an impromptu, but very intense, competition.
"Game, set and match, sucker!" Starsky yelled triumphantly. His take-that attitude was not lost on Captain Dobey, who had wandered in as the pair were playing for game point. A bit frustrated that his best team were not spending their time pursuing more constructive tasks, Dobey pressed for an explanation. Before he got a satisfactory answer, however, Starsky played dumb and quickly slipped out into the hallway, followed closely by his equally evasive cohort.
Dobey watched them leave, and then casually surveyed the work being done by the newly hired painters. He glanced suspiciously at one worker who was eating a sandwich but decided to leave him be. Enjoying a last moment of quiet, Dobey turned and headed out the double doors.
.
Starsky and Hutch exited the precinct building and strolled out to the parking lot. Shift change was in full swing with small groups of uniformed officers busily transferring items in and out of trunks while conversing amongst themselves. As they headed for the Torino, Starsky was still reveling in his win, making sure Hutch knew how much his loss was going to cost. The bet had been for a three course meal and Starsky wasn't going for an offer of a hamburger, shake and fries. Tired of listening to his partner gloat, Hutch just wanted to get going.
"C'mon, open up!" Hutch grumbled, standing by the passenger door. He felt Starsky was purposely taking his time unlocking the car, using the delay to keep reminding him of his unfortunate and ever-increasing cost of defeat.
A short distance away, a car's engine started up. As the driver pulled out, the patrol car caught the front bumper of another black and white parked alongside. The sound of scraping metal and squealing tires ripped through the air, catching Hutch's attention.
He couldn't understand why the officer driving hadn't stopped and, instead, was quickly heading right towards them. That reason became clear when the passenger leaned out the window and began firing a machine gun directly at the Torino.
Although Starsky was just noticing the car himself, Hutch knew his partner would be trapped with nowhere to go. Two rounds whizzed by, just missing his head. "Starsky get down!" was all Hutch could yell before diving to the ground, wishing the pavement would liquefy so his body could hide beneath its surface.
.
Never one to back down from trouble, Starsky's first instinct on seeing the car closing in was to turn and face his assailant. The sound of gunfire and bright flashes bursting out of the passenger's window forced his brain into a hyperactive state. As adrenaline and fear set in simultaneously, Starsky clumsily reached inside his jacket to grab his gun, but there was no way he could draw it in time. He thought about diving over the hood, or falling to the ground, but the cruiser was too close. Left with no other choice, he instinctively turned and raised an arm to protect himself. With such a little amount of protection, there was no way he was going to escape being shot. Starsky pressed up tight against his car, and braced for the inevitable.
The bullets struck with amazing force.
.
Hutch heard the gunfire hit the Torino. The sharp ping of bullets striking the steel body produced a sickening sound. The car windows shattered and sprayed him with a shower of glass. As the patrol car sped away, Hutch instinctively rolled onto his side and scampered to his feet. He sprinted across a row of parked cars, trying to intercept the escaping hit men as the vehicle made a desperate run for the exit.
"Starsky!" Hutch screamed, not seeing his partner. Cops shooting at cops? He suppressed the natural instinct not to endanger another officer and deliberately fired several rounds at the fleeing sedan. None of his shots found their mark.
"STARSKY?" Panic started building inside of him. Hutch still hadn't seen Starsky nor heard the familiar sound of his Beretta. Fearing only one logical reason, Hutch fired two more shots and ran back to the Torino.
Each wobbly step felt like trudging through quicksand.
.
Starsky tried screaming for Hutch, but only the first syllable made it out before hot metal tore through him. The shots felt like searing arrows, stealing his breath and impaling him against the Torino. Intense pain, like none he'd ever felt before, caused him to arch back. He waited for another hit, but when none came, his legs gave out. Collapsing to the ground, his head struck the rear tire and landed heavily inside the wide metal rim.
The last blow viciously rattled him, sending his world into another dimension where a heavy curtain of stillness began closing off reality. He struggled to maintain consciousness, convinced he could still hear muffled gunshots and the soft voice of someone calling his name.
Starsky had been shot before. But this was horribly different. Some powerful entity had grabbed a hold of his chest, and was literally sucking the air from his lungs. He willed Hutch to appear, to lay healing hands on him and make everything all right. But the blond angel wasn't there. With his vision fading fast, Starsky's struggle to hang onto consciousness felt increasingly futile. Gathering what breath he could, he tried to call out one last time. The effort caused his chest to seize, forcing a foamy substance into his mouth. Starsky tried to swallow but couldn't. The sickening taste of blood lingered only for a moment then disappeared as a wave of darkness swept over him. He feebly reached out his hand, desperately trying to connect to his partner anyway he could. Fighting the last invisible tugs from the vacuum of silence, Starsky felt himself sucked in, completely enveloped by the overwhelming force.
.
Hutch dashed around the front end of the Torino. What he found on the tarmac completely horrified him.
Blood. Lots of it. And all belonging to Starsky. The wounds on his chest were oozing heavily, enough to transform Starsky's pale yellow cotton shirt into an appalling, slick hue of dark red. An ominous, crimson puddle was forming on the pavement beside the brunet, its source coming from underneath the leather jacket's front flap. Hutch's gaze tracked from his partner's torso to his face. The paleness of skin there contrasted with the bright red blood trickling out of the corner of his mouth. Starsky's eyelids were barely open, but the normally brilliant denim blues had turned dull and lifeless.
Hutch felt his breath catch, as if his heart just ripped in half. Looking for any signs of life, he caught just the slightest twitch of his partner's chest.
Oh, Starsk…
Hutch's concentration on the dreadful sight was broken when two uniformed cops appeared and knelt beside his fallen friend.
"Don't touch him!" Hutch angrily spat through clenched teeth. He holstered his Magnum and dove in between the two officers.
"Sorry! I was just trying to help."
Hutch recognized the man's voice and glanced sideways at the patrolman.
"Dan? Dan Cannon?"
.
Army Staff Sergeant Daniel Cannon had been a field medic serving two tours in Vietnam, assigned to the same regiment as Starsky. Neither veteran had known the other until just a few months ago when a lunch outing ended up with the two eating at the same burger joint. Since then, they'd shared many stories of their time together in the Army.
"Yes, it's me. I think Dave needs help." Officer Cannon looked at Hutch. The detective's blank stare indicated he was probably in shock. Dan wasn't sure what the man's reaction would be if he tried to lay a hand on Starsky. "He's losing a lot of blood," Cannon added, hoping to at least get Hutch's consent.
"Yeah… he is…" Hutch seemed oddly unwilling to touch his partner, as if any contact would immediately end Starsky's tenuous hold on life. He raised a hand towards his partner's hair, skimmed the curls lightly, and then quickly withdrew the shaking hand. "Help him," Hutch whispered.
Dan turned toward his own partner. "Cal!" he called. "Go get my jump bag from the car."
While waiting for the officer to return, Dan performed an initial assessment on Starsky. Once he'd inspected the first two gunshot wounds, Dan swallowed hard. Either could likely prove fatal and Starsky had been shot more than twice. Concentrating on his work, Dan hoped his face wouldn't betray what he could already sense, and hear, from the brunet—the death rattle of a dying man. Dan had witnessed it countless times on mortally wounded soldiers. Every victim had gotten his best effort, but that never seemed good enough. He glanced over at Hutch, who was focused totally on Starsky. Not this time, Dan thought. This soldier's going to make it!
Cal returned with the jump bag and knelt down beside them. He started to remove several items, probably knowing from experience by working with Dan which ones the medic might need. Dan grabbed a clean hand towel from the collection and folded it until it formed a thick, palm-sized pad. He placed it on top of a heavily seeping wound on Starsky's chest and grabbed Hutch's hand.
"Here! Press down on this as hard as you can." Seeing apprehension in Hutch's face, Dan added, "Don't worry, it won't hurt him. We need to stop the bleeding."
.
Hutch pressed down hard, amazed that Starsky didn't even flinch. God, buddy…can't you just look at me? Let me know you're…that you're still here? Gathering his wits, he yelled out to the surrounding onlookers, "Someone called for an ambulance yet!"
"They're on their way!" an officer called out from the crowd.
Hutch looked down at Starsky and then at Dan. When their eyes met, he softly asked, "Is he going to make it?"
Despite all his training, Dan never knew what to say when asked that question. Usually, his patients were strangers, people he wasn't emotionally attached to, but he knew this one. Dan briefly tried to put himself in Hutch's place; would he want to know the truth?
"I'm doing everything I know how to, Ken," he calmly said. If Hutch seemed annoyed at the first name basis, he didn't show it.
Grabbing a pair of medical scissors, Dan began cutting Starsky's leather jacket so it could be removed without jarring him any more than necessary. After slipping the remaining piece from under the injured man's back, Dan quickly severed the straps of the holster then finished cutting and removing the shirt. The articles were completely soaked in blood.
Dan shoved a stethoscope in his ears and listened to several areas on Starsky's chest. The lack of breath sounds on the right side indicated one lung had collapsed. He could only hope the left would stay inflated, at least long enough to reach the emergency room. Stay with me guy, just a little bit longer.
.
After the hasty exit of his best detectives, Captain Dobey had returned to his office. It was strange having the squad room so quiet, but the change wouldn't last too much longer.
Before sitting down at his desk, Dobey walked over to look out the fifth floor window and marveled at the sunny day beyond the glass panes. Feeling like some fresh air, he slid open one of the side windows. The sounds of street activity and a cool breeze seeped in through the opening. Such a beautiful day, and here you are at work.
He settled into his chair and picked up a stack of reports needing his final signature. Getting through the first page, Dobey heard what he thought sounded like automatic gunfire coming from the open window. As more shots erupted, the captain threw down the paperwork and jumped to his feet.
Dobey rushed to the window and pressed his face up against it, trying to pinpoint the source of the noise. Seeing nothing unusual on the street below, he guessed the noises were coming from the parking lot around the other side of the precinct building.
Leaving his office, Dobey headed straight to the elevator. No sooner had he pressed the down arrow than the doors immediately opened. Sighing gratefully, he stepped into the empty car and hit the "G" button, punching it repeatedly until the panels finally closed. After the elevator arrived on the ground floor, Dobey got out and took in the frenzied scene around him. Civilians and cops were rushing up and down the hallways, but no one looked as if they knew where they were going.
Hearing someone yell "outside, in the lot," the captain quickly headed for the back doors. Just before reaching the exit, he heard a portable radio blare out, "Officer down! We have an officer down! Keep this channel clear!"
Dobey's heart sank. His worst fears had just been confirmed. Once outside, he saw a group of patrolmen huddled around something on the ground at the far end of the lot. Hustling over to the scene, he couldn't immediately see who was injured and went around to the edge of the growing crowd. He caught a glimpse of Starsky's Torino, and a line of black bullet holes imbedded in the white stripe.
His gazed dropped to the ground where small pieces of window glass were spread out on the pavement. Oh dear God, don't let it be one of them… Using his size as a wedge, Dobey pressed into the crowd. Nothing prepared him for what he saw on the pavement.
A pool of dark red blood, glistening like spilt motor oil, with blue Adidas sneakers and familiar faded jeans branching from its source. Hutch's kneeling figure hid the rest of the wounded body that filled in the clothing.
Starsky!
Gingerly, Dobey placed his hand on Hutch's shoulder and knelt down beside him. He didn't even feel the broken glass littering the ground dig into his knees. Getting a closer look at his injured detective, Dobey shuddered at the deathly color of the ashen skin. Starsky's jacket and shirt had been removed and his chest was streaked with blood. Hutch and another officer were using pads of towels, bandages and what even looked like someone's t-shirt in an effort to stop the bleeding.
"Okay, I think we're making progress. Keep pressure on those wounds; I don't want them to start bleeding again," a uniformed officer ordered.
Dobey instantly recognized Dan Cannon. He'd heard about the man's medical training and immediately offered a silent prayer thanking God for putting Cannon at the scene.
"What the hell happened here, Dan!" Dobey asked, trying to spare Hutch from answering.
"Two officers in a patrol car, sir. They just started shooting at them." Cannon nodded at the two detectives.
"What? Did you say two officers? Uniformed officers?"
"Yes sir. Me and Cal, we were just standing by the entrance. The suspects were parked right by the building in a black and white. As soon as Starsky and Hutch made it out to their car, these guys just floored it and the passenger started shooting."
"Capt'n." Hutch's voice was barely audible.
"What is it, son?" Dobey answered.
"They couldn't have been real cops…cops just don't start shooting other cops." Hutch tried to readjust his cradling hold of Starsky, but in the process let a pad slip off of a wound. Cannon quickly took a hold of Hutch's hand and pressed it back on Starsky's chest.
"Try to keep as much pressure on that as you can."
"…sorry."
.
"Hey, you're doing just fine," Dan answered calmly, but his inner voice wanted to scream. What's taking the ambulance so long? Starsky's dying and there's not much more I can do!
As if answered by a divine power, he heard the distant sounds of a siren drawing closer by the second.
Hutch picked up on them also. "Hear those sirens, buddy?" he said. "Just hang on, it won't be long now."
.
Hutch leaned closer to his best friend. No response, not even a wink. There were times he had cradled Starsky before, when he was critically sick or injured. Even when his partner couldn't speak, they'd always been able to connect—not necessarily with words but with a palpable language. It was their special gift, to be able to reach out and sense each other's needs. Now, Hutch couldn't feel anything.
An agonized sigh escaped from deep within. For the first time in over eight years, Hutch couldn't reach his partner. Looking at Starsky, he didn't see his best friend, just a shell of a human lying on the ground. Not moving. Not responding.
"Starsky! Don't you do this!" Hutch cried out.
.
Dan grabbed the blond's shoulder and looked down on his patient, not knowing what Hutch had seen or sensed that he hadn't.
"What? What's wrong?"
"He's gone, Dan…Starsky's..." Hutch doubled over and tried to lift his partner up in his arms.
Cannon pushed Hutch back with one arm, then used the other to keep applying pressure on Starsky's chest.
"Hey, Hutch! Come on. He's not…" Dan couldn't even say the word. He quickly felt for a pulse on Starsky's neck and hoped to God he wasn't wrong. Thankfully, Dan found one, but it was weak and erratic.
"He's not dead?" Hutch asked, his eyes burning with desperation.
"No, he's okay. You hear me, he's still alive."
The crowd of bystanders immediately stepped back as the ambulance crew arrived. Dan hastily updated them on Starsky's wounds, including the severe damage he felt the detective had sustained. At first, the paramedics seemed to doubt such a critical assessment, but after checking Starsky over, they immediately placed him onto a gurney and moved him into the ambulance.
Hutch tried to go with them, but one of the paramedics insisted it would be better if Dan rode with them. Dobey stepped forward and took a hold of Hutch's arm.
"C'mon, son. You're riding with me."
.
Before leaving, Dobey spotted a patrol supervisor talking with a group of lingering officers.
"Sergeant!"
"Sir?"
"Get a crime scene team over here and round up anyone who saw the shooting."
"Right away, Capt'n. I also have Detective Starsky's gun and holster. Would you like it?"
"No…just hang on to it and I'll pick it up later. If anybody needs me, I'll be at Memorial Hospital." Turning to Hutch, Dobey wasn't sure what more he could say. "You know," he said, trying to get Hutch's attention, "if there's anybody that can survive this, it's Starsky."
.
Hutch barely gave a nod. He wasn't sure if he could let himself believe that. He wanted to. But that missing connection to his partner's spirit tore at his heart. Hutch had insisted on going in the ambulance, wanting to stay close to Starsky. Even if his partner couldn't see or hear him, Hutch felt certain Starsky would know he was there on some level. But he'd made the difficult decision to let Dan go instead. Now, hearing the ambulance's siren fade, Hutch sadly wondered if the last chance to be with his partner had forever slipped away.
.
The End