Chapter 2
The corridor down which he was prodded was narrow and dark. Only occasional lamps burned in the ceiling, casting their dismal and terrifying cold light through metal cages, so that anyone in the corridor wouldn't be able to break the lightbulbs. The cages reminded Blue 1 of something, but he couldn't remember what it was. He couldn't remember anything. Couldn't think past the fire that was coursing through his veins.
The last injection he'd been given had hiked up his emotional responses to the full and he was ready to rip the head off anyone who crossed him. Almost a maximum dose, they'd said. Whatever the size of the dose, it always made him feel this way; made him feel as though he could fight with himself if there was no-one else around. He hated the feeling and he loved it. Hated it because he knew deep down in his subconscious that that wasn't the man he was meant to be. But he loved the feeling too, because for a brief time in this featureless place he could actually feel something, even if the feeling was angry and raw.
The men who were with him knew that that was how he would be feeling too. They'd seen the process a few times now and it never failed to amaze them how the single injection could turn even the most cowardly of men into a mean machine. But with this one, this bundle of anger and fury, and the other one that had been brought in at the same time, they took extra precautions.
The men in the white room had watched with satisfaction the transformation of the man from controlled, but hurting prisoner to this hellion. When Blue 1 was ready to be let up from the table, they'd taken extra precautions and had attached strong chains from his wrist restraints to a sturdy leather belt buckled around his waist, similar to the belts that inmates in state penal institutions wore. . But this had an extra piece to it – another chain from the waistband leading upwards through the fur on his chest, to a leather collar buckled securely around the olive toned throat. Another chain attached his wrists to the back of the belt so that he was effectively restrained. The collar was the main controlling device, and Blue 1 remembered the first time he'd tried to make a break for freedom.
The collar had seemed to tighten around his neck, threatening to cut off his oxygen as the electric shock from the wires entwined in the leather and sent uncontrollable tremors through his body. He ended in a heap on the floor, clawing at the terrible instrument surrounding his neck as the shock ceased and he twitched pitifully on the ground as the guards watched in amusement.
So now, the curly haired man walked slowly, with measured steps down the corridor, but didn't try to run. Why should he? There was nowhere to run to any way. He tried to calm the breathing that rasped from his throat as the cattle prod at his back signalled for him to turn to the left into a small examination room. As he turned he saw another row of cells, just like his own further down the corridor. In the closest one, he saw a struggle taking place between two guards and a tall lithe blond man. He paused for a second, watching the guards beat the blond to the ground with wooden sticks and then shrugged his shoulders. He had enough problems of his own to deal with. What was one more inmate's problem to him?
Blue 1 stopped at the doorway of the small room. Like his cell, this room was white, but unlike the cell, it held a single piece of furniture. It was a metal chair, very like a dentists chair and it was to this item of furniture that he was now prodded.
He hated the cattle prod and hated the men who wielded it without pause. He stopped in his tracks. No way would he make it easy for these suckers to secure him to that chair. If they wanted a fight, he was ready. Hell he was more than ready, he was spoiling for a fight and as he felt one of the guards come up behind him, Blue 1 turned on his foot and kicked out in a perfect Judo roundhouse kick, sending the man cannoning back against the wall.
With a battle yell he launched himself at the other guard, again using his feet because his hands were chained to the belt around his waist. He jumped up, kicking with both feet against the man, but he was ready and took a step back, meaning that the curly haired captive hit nothing and fell to the floor with a bone crunching, teeth rattling crash. As he lay panting and shaking his head slowly from side to side like a wounded animal, the second guard reached for the control device on his belt and pushed the red button.
Immediately, Blue 1 curled into a ball, trying to get his hands up to his neck to claw at the fearsome pain now encircling his neck. It was on fire, sending tendrils of white lightening down his chest, back and arms. He clamped his lips closed, desperate not to let the guards see how much the miserable device hurt, but the current remained live so long that eventually he could hold out no longer. He threw his head back, his lips peeling back from his teeth in a rictus of pain and a guttural shriek escaped his spasming throat.
The satisfying sound was what the guard had been waiting for and he took his thumb from the button, leering at the body twitching on the ground in front of him. Normally he would have taken pleasure in kicking the recalcitrant captive, but with this one he knew better. With Blue, it was always prudent to stay a safe distance away, even with the safety of the collar and the chains.
The man lay panting on the floor, red sparkles still flashing in front of his eyes as he tried to calm the tortured muscles that were still randomly firing throughout his body.
Where are you Hutch? Where are you buddy, I need ya. Oh shit! Was that Hutch in the other cell? Why didn't I know before? The pain! The pain makes me think clearer? Sweet Jesus, that's special. What? The only way to remember is to fry your brain? Cool, real cool Starsky. Just try n' get to Hu…try to get to….who? Who were you thinking of? Thinking without the pain….thinking….
The memory faded with the pain until Blue lay panting and spent on the floor, his mind once again a black and empty pit.
'Get up' the guard's voice commanded and it didn't occur to the man to disobey. He tried to stand, but it was difficult with his hands bound to his waist and he scrabbled about on the floor as he saw the cattle prod approaching.
'Ungh….fuck it!' he yelled as the wicked instrument caught him on the flank and he twisted away. 'I'm gonna kill you. Ya hear? Don't ever relax, coz I'll be there, behind ya, ready' he ground out as he struggled to his feet, staring at the guard from knitted brows.
'Not while I have this' the guard goaded him, indicating the control device. 'Now shuddup an' sit down'.
Slowly, and without taking his eyes from the sadistic guard, the brunette lowered himself into the chair. The second guard; the one that he'd kicked, had recovered and now bore down on him, licking his lips in anticipation. As his comrade stood by with the controller, he set to connecting Blue's wrists and ankles to the rests on the cold metal chair. Blue tugged experimentally at them, but the guard had left no play in the restraints and all dug into his flesh uncomfortably. Staring deep into the indigo blue eyes, the man took hold of a handful of the curly hair and pushed Blue's head back against the headrest, securing it there with a supple metal band, then stood back, satisfied that the angry brunette was going nowhere. With a final look at his captive, he drew back his fist and plunged it into the hard abs, making the breath whistle from between the clenched teeth.
'That was cute' he said. 'But remember, we have the keys. Don't try it again'.
The stormy blue, tearing eyes stared back at him in defiance, but the brunette was sensible enough not to utter the retort that sprang to his lips. Instead he tried to relax into the chair, waiting for whatever came next.
He didn't need to wait long as the doctor came bustling into the room, a clipboard under his arm. He took a moment to nod at the guards, exchanging pleasantries with them, ignoring the man bound to the chair completely.
Blue thought he'd seen the doctor before, but he couldn't remember where. Shit, he couldn't remember who he was so there was no hope for putting a name to a stranger's face. But the fact gnawed at him. Why did he know the doctor? Where from? Why was he here now? And most importantly, what was he going to do?
The doctor was talking into a recording device in his hand.
'Subject Blue 1. Male 30 years old. Time of captivity 13 days. Test commences'. He put the recorder down on the floor next to the wooden chair he'd drawn up and took the cattle prod from the guard. Adjusting the setting to medium, he held the device up and looked at his subject as if examining an animal spread out for him on a dissection slab.
'Tell me your name' he said coolly.
'Go to hell'.
The doctor put the prod against Blue's stomach and pulled the trigger. The man's body jerked away from the painful stimuli and he gritted his teeth at the pain. It stopped and he opened his eyes, panting heavily and staring back at his tormentor.
'Tell me your name'.
'I dunno my name - Blue'.
Again the prod and again the body tied to the chair jangled against its bonds, sagging when the instrument was removed.
Blue 1 was feeling pain, but something else too. The pain was sharpening his mind and he was beginning to remember. He almost longed for the pain to bring him more clarity and again his captor asked.
'Tell me your name'.
He starred into the wide face with its eyes glistening behind his glasses and licked his dry lips.
'David Starsky, - who's askin'?'.
The doctor picked up his recorder. '90 dosage and the subject still has memories after painful stimuli. Quite amazing'. He replaced it.
'What is your job?'
The brunette knitted his eyebrows. Job….I have a job,,,,I'm a ..a…
'Dunno' he braced himself as the stick came back to shock him and embraced the pain, his mind becoming clearer by the minute as the doctor's glasses glistened in the bright light of the room
'Cop' he panted, trying to shake his head to try to get his thoughts in order.
'Hmm' The doctor looked up and signalled the guard.
'Bring him in'.
The guard left, leaving the Doctor looking at his "patient", studying the reaction and the light of understanding in the stormy eyes. Starsky stared back at the medic, wondering just what this was all about. He remembered things now. A crowd, cheering, another man. Pain again and more cheering……
The door to the small room opened , interrupting his thoughts and two more guards brought in a battered and bruised form. As the tall blond lifted his weary head, showing bruised face and black eyes, Starsky stiffened.
'Hutch?'
The blond tried to grin through cut and bruised lips.
'Hiya partner. Has Matwick been treating you well?'
