Author's Note: Inspired by the "Trail of Terror" episode and a suggestion made by "little purple butterflies", this is the inaugural work of a new round robin group of SOSF writers. Special thanks goes to honu59 for her assistance in preparing the image used for the cover of this story.
Disclaimer: Ladies and gentlemen, this is your friendly San Francisco Cable Car operator welcoming you all aboard! Please note that we do not own any of the original characters, locations or canon information depicted in the series "The Streets of San Francisco". We are merely borrowing them for our tale and shall return them to their rightful owners upon reaching our destination. So sit back, hold on tightly to your belongings and enjoy the ride...
Journey of Fear
Written by meixel, Shergar, jodm, little purple butterflies, Tanith2011 & Autumnrose
Prologue
What was supposed to be a routine prisoner transportation drive was turning into a trail of terror for the two SFPD detectives who stood side by side facing two hardened criminals and a juvenile delinquent. A fourth accomplice, driver Ruben Palmer, hurriedly but thoroughly frisked the cops and took away their guns and handcuffs.
Holding his arms up with his elbows bent, the young Inspector avoided eye contact with the men in front of him for he knew that would just antagonize them further.
"You're making a big mistake," Lieutenant Mike Stone remarked in a serious tone, trying to diffuse the situation.
"Listen, old man. From now on, you speak only when you're spoken to, you got that?" The armed criminal snapped, raising his rifle in a threatening manner.
Steve couldn't help but roll his eyes and shake his head in anger and frustration, earning him the attention of the gunman.
"That goes for you too, pretty boy," the gunman snarled, stepping right up to stand inches from the Inspector's face.
Mike hoped that his young partner would keep silent and cooperate with the men holding them at gun point. While he knew Steve was, for the most part, a level headed young man, he couldn't stop worrying about him.
Biting his tongue, Steve simply glared at the man threatening him. Suddenly he felt rough hands grip his wrists and twist them behind his back. He suppressed a wince from the discomfort.
"No, no. Cuff them together," the gunman ordered his accomplice.
Steve felt one of his wrists released while the other was brought back down and cuffed to his partner's wrist.
"Alright, you're both coming with us," the criminal sneered, waving the rifle he had taken from the younger detective.
"Now, wait a minute! You got what you wanted. Why don't you just…" Steve protested. His protest only earned him a punch to his kidney. With a grunt of pain, he folded over but fought to stay on his feet.
"Did I say you could talk, cop?" the gunman spat, heatedly.
Steve slowly straightened and met his tormentor's glare but remained silent for Mike's sake. He could feel his partner's worried gaze boring into him.
"Let's go!" the gun man commanded.