Chapter 2

The wind whipped across their faces as they made their way out of Bay City and its connecting suburbs, out onto the interstate and to more open highway. They rode side by side most of the time, throwing occasional glances back and forth with each other.

It was a beautiful day, promising to warm up fast as they headed south closer to the Mexican border.

They stopped once along the way to refuel and get something cold to drink.

For the first time in a long time, Hutch saw the corners of his partner's mouth lifting into an easy smile as Starsky handed Hutch a coke, then straddled his own bike and sipped on his root beer as they sat outside a fast food joint.

Starsky unzipped his leather jacket and unbuttoned his shirt halfway down his chest to cool off, his eyes concealed behind dark ray bans. "How much longer before we get to San Carlos?"

"No more than another hour or so. It's about thirty miles passed the Mexican border," Hutch replied, cleaning the bugs off his own sunglasses before replacing them back on his face.

Starsky raked his fingers through his sweat dampened hair, having taken off the helmet for a while, enjoying the sun on his face. "This was a good idea, Hutch. The bikes are great. Thanks!"

Hutch smiled. "It's no Harley, but I figured you'd enjoy it."

Two slender women walked passed them. They smiled at Starsky appreciatively, seeming to linger on his bared chest.

Behind the dark lenses, Hutch could sense his partner watching the two women as they swayed passed, then to his amazement, he thought he saw a slight boyish blush on his face.

He chuckled. Some things still never change, he thought. His partner still managed to ooze sexuality even when he wasn't trying.

He knew Starsky caught his amused look from the slight drop in his jaw before clamping his mouth shut. Hutch's grin only widened. Yup, this was definitely turning out to be a good move.

They returned to the highway and made good time reaching the border. After passing through the border check point after showing the proper ID, they turned onto a secondary highway and headed towards the signs for San Carlos.

Here the highway thinned to only two lanes, winding around hilly and mountainous terrain which pleased Hutch as he shifted his weight to take each turn, enjoying the feel of the bike underneath him away from congested traffic of the main highway, enjoying the scenery and the warm breeze on his face.

He glanced over at his partner, and although his eyes were hidden behind the dark lenses, he could still see the corners of Starsky's mouth lifted upward as he took the next turn, gunning the engine as he accelerated out of a curve.

For a while Hutch followed behind him, watching Starsky deftly take each turn with ease, the sun glinting off the metal frame of the bike before gunning his own engine and accelerating, catching up to him, and then with a smile, inching slightly ahead.

By now it was almost high noon and the sun was decidedly much hotter.

They reached another bend in the road with a branching fork off to the right. Hutch rounded the turn but noticed his partner had chosen the right fork. He made a U-turn banking the bike slightly up off the road and into the dirt before joining his partner.

"What's up?"

"I'm hungry and thirsty."

"San Carlos is still twenty-four kilometers away."

Starsky pointed to a sign. "This here says….Tran-tranquil-la-dad," he struggled with the pronunciation.

"It's Tranquilladad," Hutch helped him out, being fluent in Spanish.

"Yeah whatever, is only four kilometers up this back road."

"It means tranquility."

"Huh?"

"The sign. It means tranquility."

"Tranquility, huh?" Starsky smiled. "Sounds like a nice place ta stop."

"What about San Carlos?"

Starsky shrugged. "Tranquility is closer, and I'm starving and thirsty for a cold beer! What time are we supposed ta meet the Judge again?"

"Three o'clock."

The original plan had been for the two detectives to deliver the papers to Judge Juarez on Sunday, but when they had gone to pick up the papers from the D.A. earlier that morning, they were told the Judge would be out of town Sunday and requested the papers to be delivered to his home at three o'clock on Saturday afternoon.

Prior to heading out, they had notified Dobey about the change in schedule.

It didn't matter much to them. Delivering the papers earlier just meant they would have all day Sunday to themselves.

"We should still be able to make our meeting with the Judge with plenty of time to spare." He revved the engine on the bike. "Tranquility it is partner."

Starsky smiled and gunned his own engine, taking off.

Hutch shifted gears, accelerating to try and catch up.

They had maybe gone about a mile or so before the ruddy asphalt road disappeared into a dirt trek. Hutch smiled enjoying the feel of the primitive road under the bike. It reminded him so much of the back trails in Duluth he and his friends had ventured out on in his youth.

His smile was wide and bright and didn't go unnoticed by his partner when he finally caught up to him.

Starsky deftly took each turn with ease, also enjoying himself, not in the least concerned about the dust being kick up in both their faces. He gunned the engine and pushed the bike to its limits, enjoying the feel of it underneath his legs. It wasn't a Harley by any means, but it was fun.

They had probably gone another couple miles up the dirt road before they rounded a corner and came to a stop when they saw a fellow biker blocking the road just ahead.

The man, perhaps in his early twenties, was dressed in an army surplus jacket with the sleeves cut off and wore a thin leather headband around shoulder length brown hair. He lounged lazily in the shade on a modified Harley.

Both detectives brought their bikes to a stop, somewhat surprised to see another soul in the area.

The biker sat up from his seat, crossing his arms lazily. "Afternoon."

"Hi," Hutch replied.

"Where you two heading?" the biker asked.

"To Tranquilidad," Hutch responded.

"No way to get through, man. Bridge is washed out. You'll have'ta go thirty miles round to get in the back way."

"Thanks for the warning." Hutch glanced at his partner who looked disappointed. "Guess it's back to San Carlos then, buddy."

Starsky sighed. "Guess so."

"Thanks for the info, man," Hutch told the biker.

"Sure, no problem." The biker said before starting his own engine and taking off down the road they had just come up with a spin of tires flicking up the loose dirt.

Reluctantly they turned their bikes around and headed back towards the main road. They had almost reached the point where the dirt road became asphalt again before Hutch slowed down.

Starsky looked behind him and turned his bike around.

"What's up?"

Hutch looked back at the road. "Since when does a washed out bridge stop a biker? He'd have just gone through the river bed."

Starsky shrugged. "Maybe the water's still running?"

"This time of year?" Hutch shook his head. "Everything is dry as a bone."

Hutch thought some more. "The guy was just lounging back there."

"So maybe he was tired of the heat?"

"I don't know. I mean, where did he come from though, if not the town? It's not like that's a main road. And where did he go? He wasn't that far ahead of us, but I don't hear his engine."

"I don't know," Starsky replied.

Hutch looked back at the road. His partner could read his face. "You think he was lying?" Starsky asked.

Hutch shrugged. "I don't know."

"You wanna find out, Blondie?"

"Up to it."

"If it means I can get a cold beer out of it and something to eat without driving another twenty-four kilometers, yeah, why not?"

Hutch grinned.

"Okay, Gordo, your stomach and your thirst win out."

They turned the bikes around and headed back up the road. They passed by the spot where the biker had been and went another half mile or so before they came to an abrupt stop.

They found their way suddenly blocked by their biker friend again, along with four others clustered around him.

"Well, well, well. Guess you guys didn't take the hint."

"What's going on?" Hutch asked as Starsky eased his bike up alongside his partner.

"Kill your engines," the biker ordered them.

"Why?" Starsky asked, gripping his handlebars.

"Because I told you," the man said, his lazy demeanor of early now vanished and replaced by a hard edge glitter in his eye.

"Look, we're just out for a little ride on the back roads," Hutch said. "We're not looking for any trouble."

"You should have thought of that before the two of you decided to turn back. Now kill them."

Two of the other bikers got off their bikes and stepped closer to the two friends. Both were big, rough looking men built like linebackers in leather jackets and accent chains.

Hutch looked at this partner, instantly regretting they had not brought their guns this trip.

Reluctantly he killed his engine.

The biker in the army vest held out his hand for Hutch's keys. He dropped them into his palm. The biker then looked at Starsky, who hadn't yet cut his engine off.

"Don't be stupid, pal." the man said.

Starsky gripped the handlebars.

Hutch swiveled his head towards his partner, communicating silently. Be cool, Gordo.

After a few more seconds Starsky reluctantly did the same and relinquished his keys.

"Off the bikes," they were then ordered.

As the two burly bikers took a step closer, they were forced to comply.

"Now push your bikes off the road behind those trees."

Both partners again looked at one another trying to size the situation up.

One of the burly bikers standing next to Hutch, gave him a hard shove, "You heard the man. Move!"

Caught off guard, Hutch lost his balance on the uneven road and clumsily toppled over on top of his bike in a tangle of arms and legs. As he fell he felt a stinging sharp pain on his shin, just above the ankle high boot as his leg caught on the protruding pedal and scrapped against it as he fell.

The bikers started to laugh.

As Hutch tried to get up from his awkward position, the biker deliberately put his foot out making Hutch trip again and fall back onto the bike, his shin and elbows hitting the metal frame again.

More laughter followed.

Seeing red, Starsky let go of his own bike, deftly hopped over it and a second later the biker who had shoved Hutch found himself being grabbed and spun around. A fist cracked up against the man's face.

As Hutch tried to get back up again, he saw Starsky being grabbed by both his arms. The biker in charge landed a swift punch to his friend's gut and another to his face, knocking Starsky's sunglasses off. His partner's left arm was then painfully twisted behind his back and the next thing Hutch saw was a switchblade knife appear next to Starsky's throat.

Hutch made a move towards them, but his way was barred by another biker who surged forward, wedging the front of his cycle between them and nearly knocking Hutch down a third time.

"Don't be a fuckin' hero," the biker sneered at Starsky, pushing the blade a little closer to his neck. "Not if you want to live another day."

Hutch could see his partner's nostrils flaring, his eyes filled with anger as he was held restrained.

"Starsky," Hutch said quickly. With the biker between them, he took his own sunglasses off so he could fix his eyes on his partner, raising his hand out, palm up.

His partner read the silent communication between them.

I'm alright, buddy, just stay calm.

Starsky stopped resisting.

The biker held the knife to Starsky's throat a few seconds longer before finally taking a step back. With a nod to the two men holding onto Starsky, his partner was suddenly released and roughly shoved to the ground.

Starsky landed face first in the dirt, but quickly rolled defensively onto his back, covered in dust.

The young biker towered over him, the blade still welded in his hand.

"Like I said before, move the bikes off the road, out of sight."

Starsky got slowly to his feet, his stance clearly indicating his anger. He pointed to the biker. "We'll do like you say, just make sure your friend keeps his fuckin' hands off my buddy this time."

The biker merely sneered back, amused.

The biker who had blocked Hutch inched his cycle back a few feet out of Hutch's way. Hutch pulled his bike upright, wincing from the pain in his shin. Starsky followed. Both pushed the bikes off the road and awkwardly up a short incline, concealing them behind some scrub trees.

"You all right, Hutch?" Starsky asked quickly in a low voice.

Hutch took off his helmet and hung it on the handlebars. "Yeah, how 'bout you?"

"Nothing worse than a little hurt pride," he replied, touching his bruised cheek. He too took off his helmet and did the same.

"Look, just keep cool buddy 'till we figure out what the hell's going on here," Hutch told him.

Both returned to dusty road.

"So what now?" Hutch asked, still panting slightly from the effort of pushing the bike up the incline.

"Now you two are going to start walking."

"Where?" Starsky demanded.

"You'll find out soon enough, Hero. Georgie, Spicks, head back, let Python know we got a couple more guests joining us."

The two bikers that had grabbed Starsky by the arms earlier nodded and got back on their cycles. "Miguel, stay here. Keep an eye on the road."

The third biker nodded.

The biker in the surplus vest then looked at the two friends. "Get moving!"

The two detectives glanced at each other then with a slight shrug they started walking. They heard the gun of engines and looked back to see the young biker and the fifth man following them.

Hutch winced as he walked.

"You're limping," Starsky said.

"It's nothing, just banged my shine up pretty good when I fell over."

Starsky looked down and it was then he noticed the small crimson stain seeping through Hutch's pants. "Think ya did a little more that that."

Hutch heard the angry tone returning to his partner's voice.

"Can't be that bad. I can still walk," Hutch said, ignoring the pain, just wanting to keep his partner calm. When it came to Hutch's safety, Starsky was extremely protective.

The sun beat relentlessly down on the two of them as they walked upon the hard dirt packed road.

After a while, Starsky unzipped his leather jacket and shrugged out of it, draping it over his shoulder, grumbling. They glanced back to see their escorts still with them and found them smiling as they followed the pair.

Hutch's injured leg hit a rut in the road, his ankle turning, his knee suddenly going out from underneath him. Instinctively he grabbed onto Starsky's arm, nearly pulling him down to the ground with him.

"Get moving!" the biker said.

Starsky held onto to Hutch biceps, steadying him, noticing his partner's grimace of pain. "Just give us a minute. My buddy hurt his leg back there when your friend pushed him over. Just let me check it out real quick."

"I'm fine, Starsk."

Starsky ignored him. Instead he helped Hutch hobble over the side of the road and sit down on the slight incline near some scrub brush. He then lifted Hutch's pant leg to check the injury.

Hutch couldn't help the inward hiss as the material scrapped up his leg and over his knee exposing a four to five inch long laceration down his shin. It wasn't extremely deep, but deep enough that it bled freely down his leg and into his sock just above the ankle high boot. Combined with a nice bruise forming, it smarted like hell.

"Take it easy, Hutch."

Starsky then reached up and untied the bandana Hutch was wearing around his neck. Opening it up, he shook it out then folded it, before wrapping it around his partner's leg to at least stop the bleeding. "It's not too bad, buddy, but we need to get it cleaned out."

Hutch stoically tried not to wince as Starsky tightened the make shift bandage, but it didn't fool his partner one bit, easily reading the concerned look beneath the anger on Starsky's face.

"He's alright!" the biker barked, pulling up alongside them, practically ramming the front wheel of the bike into Starsky's leg. "Get moving!"

He could feel Starsky's hands clenching against his leg.

"It's okay, Starsk. Just be cool," Hutch said as his partner quickly finished his ministrations before lowering his partner's pant leg down. He helped Hutch back up to his feet.

"I'm alright," Hutch reassured as the bikers continued glared at him. "Think I just jarred it when I stumbled in that hole back there."

"Get moving!"

The two detectives reluctantly resumed their walk.

"How much further?" Starsky asked after a several more minutes passed, his shirt now sticking uncomfortably to his chest as Hutch continued to limp slightly next to him.

"Just over the bridge," the biker replied.

Starsky looked at the wooden bridge that came into view ahead of them. "Well, look at that, buddy. Amazing how fast that got repaired. You get the notion, Hutch, these guys fibbed to us? I don't think the bridge was ever washed out."

The biker revved his engine. "Shut up funny man and keep moving!"

They crossed the single lane wooden bridge that stretched over a dried up river bed. As they walked up the road a bit farther they could hear the distinct revving of motorcycle engines. They rounded another bend in the road and found themselves entering a very small little Mexican village.

Across the street a row of more than a dozen sleek chrome and leather bikes were parked in front of a two story wooden building. A couple of bikers in leather vests and T-shirts where sitting on their cycles, while others in faded denim appeared to be loitering in chairs on the wide veranda style porch watching as a couple of their comrades raced their cycles up and down the street, circling and coming back.

A faded sign above the two story building read "Hotel del Tranquilladad."

Hutch glanced at the motorcycle gang and then at his partner. "Welcome to Tranquility, Starsk."

"Terrific."

TBC...

(thanks for the positive feedback to the start of this story...hope you enjoy the rest)