Chapter 4
Hutch drove his Jaguar through the large wrought iron gates to the factory that Salvador Milano used as the Cougar's base. The factory was in the middle of nowhere, a huge stone fortress of a place that had once ground flour and made bread but had fallen into disuse over the years. It stood in solitary splendour in the middle of grounds that at one time would have been the pride and joy of the owners and employees, but were now a huge, overgrown wilderness given over to weeds and grass. From its centre, the huge stone edifice loomed, squat, grey and ugly, its grime caked windows glowering out at the world as though threatening visitors to open its doors and enter. It was exactly what Sal required. Imposing in the extreme, it was big enough to accommodate his needs, remote enough for them not to be bothered by nosy intruders and the old machinery which was creaky and dusty, still worked efficiently enough and could when the need arose be put to all kinds of uses. Driving back up the once grand driveway, Hutch had the sickening feeling once again in the pit of his stomach as the building loomed out of the early morning mist and he knew he had to face the Cougars for another few days at least.
He felt more settled and at peace after he'd seen Starsky. The previous night and the death of the young man had been the last nail in the coffin of his frayed nerves. Salvador had given the orders to kill the debtor, but it was Radio, his main henchman and a few of the others who had carried out the sentence. Milano never soiled his own hands with the blood of his victims. He paid good money for others to do his dirty work for him. Hutch had found it difficult to think of an excuse not to get involved in the beating and subsequent murder. Employed as Sal's right hand man, he should have been in the thick of things, but however good he was at undercover work, there were some things that were above and beyond the call of duty. Killing was one of them.
The blond needed a friendly and familiar face. He needed to distance himself, if only for a few hours from the death and pain and gloom that the factory engendered. At first, he'd thought it safer just to go to the Pits and hang out with Huggy for a couple of hours. There would have been less suspicion in him going to the bar for a drink, but by the time he'd got away from the factory, it was the early hours of the morning and too late even for Huggy's to be open. Apart from that, Hutch had felt the need for the comfort of seeing his partner again. Starsky was sometimes a pain in the butt, his ceaseless talking often left Hutch yearning for peace and quiet, but he was the best friend the blond had ever had and when the smaller man wasn't around, Hutch never felt truly safe. However, his stupid pride would never allow him to tell the Starsky that the brunet had been right all along and that Hutch should never have taken the job, or just how creaped out he was by the assignment, or how scared he felt most of the time.
Sal was evil. There was no other way to describe him. Tall, gaunt, he shaved his head so that he was bald as a coot and stood out in a crowd. He always wore a black suit, white shirt and blood red tie. When he smiled, he showed off the gold capped front tooth, giving him a slightly unreal, exotic and somehow macabre appearance, He also kept his business a tightly guarded secret, in fact despite Hutch's best endeavours, Sal proved to be (as Hutch's Granddaddy used to say) tighter that a duck's ass – which was watertight. However Hutch tried to get information from Sal, he always came up blank. The man was cleverly evasive. When he met with his contacts he did so in private or chose other meeting places, always going alone with his gun as his only backup. The Feds had told the flaxen haired cop that there was a mole in BCPD. How else could the weapons go missing once they were in supposedly secure lock ups? Hutch best endeavours though came up empty. The blond knew the Feds were right, he also knew that Sal met with a mystery contact regularly and that after the meetings there was always a flurry of business, with Bay City's low lives and bigger dealers from out of town coming to buy weapons and sometimes the drugs that the Cougars peddled as a sideline but as for who the mystery man was, or how he connected to the Metro, The cop was no further forwards.
Hutch pulled the Jag to a halt around the side of the factory out of the sight of any prying eyes. Taking a deep breath, he paused a moment, getting himself back into his alter ego's character. Keith Hurst was cool, hard and calculating. He did nothing in a rush and had a laconic, laid back way of speaking. Hutch found it tough to remain so cold all the time, but years of undercover work had honed his acting skills. "You can never truly get into character until you've walked around in their shoes" a famous actor once said, and for the blond cop it was the truth of the matter. Dressed in black tee shirt, black jeans and loafers, he at least felt like a different man, and had even started to walk differently, emulating the strut his partner always managed to carry off with such practiced ease. Sure he was back in that mind set, the blond man got out of the car and walked around the corner to the front door. He pushed against it, letting himself in quietly to the darkened interior, his cover story still going through his mind.
As Hutch stepped into the entrance hall the door suddenly swung to behind him and closed with a deafening clang that echoed around the vast interior. The blond jumped and tried to turn around to see what was going on, only to feel strong hands circle his wrists and force both his arms painfully up his back. The force caused him to lean forward to ease the discomfort and he grunted in surprise.
'What the fuck?'
A light burst into existence and Hutch was temporarily blinded. He squinted and struggled against the hands holding him immobile. 'What the hell are ya playin' at?' he growled. 'Sal is gone be…..'
'And what exactly is Sal going to be Mr Hurst?…..Or do I call you Detective Hutchinson?' Salvador Milano's voice asked from behind the light source. Hutch stopped his struggles, his throat suddenly dry. Shit! How had they found out? He'd thought he'd played his part to the hilt. Had he been followed? He was sure he hadn't had a tail - he'd driven around in circles long enough before going to Ridgeway. He tried to keep the surprise off of his face.
'Hutchinson? Who's that? Is this some kind of joke?' he blustered.
'If it is, the joke's on you. I don't like guys like you fuckin' around with my business. It's not nice and it's not clever' Sal walked out from the shadows into Hutch's line of sight.
'Hey, boss! I've no idea what you're talkin' about. I went out to get some fresh air. I always need to drive after we've done a kid in. Kinda gets me wired, you know?'
'As I understand it, you didn't get involved too much. In fact I don't think you lifted a finger.'
'I don't suppose you'd let me explain?' the cop tried.
'Explain away. I'm in the mood for a good laugh. My source says you're Detective Ken Hutchinson of the Bay City Police Department. My source tells me you've been undercover with our little group to try and upset my business. That's just plain rude. My source also tells me you have a partner of whom you're quite fond.' Sal's voice took on a harder quality.
'I don't know what you're talkin' about' Hutch bluffed, trying to the last to keep his cover going. If he was going to get blown away, then at least he may as well go down fighting.
'You mean you don't remember Detective David Starsky? That's amazing! Considering you were there at his apartment earlier on this morning. You seemed quite cozy with him till the Feds turned up. Did they spoil your fond reunion? Did they cramp your style Ken?'
At the mention of Starsky's name Hutch started to struggle again, trying to get his hands free. Radio stood to his right hand side, a leer of enjoyment on his face while Enzo held his left hand in a huge bear claw of a fist. Around Sal, four or five other Cougar members stood in a loose semi circle.
'You leave him outa this. He had nothing to do with any of this, in fact the Feds wanted him out of the way completely' Hutch snapped.
'I never thought I'd say this, but it seems me and the suits want the same thing then, don't we?' Sal grinned.
'You lay one finger on his head and so help me…'
Milano took a step forward until he was inches away from Hutch's face. 'I'm not going to touch him' he smiled coldly. 'You, however, will find it difficult to hold back.'
Hutch stopped and stared open mouthed at the bald man as though he couldn't believe his ears. 'Me? And how exactly do you figure that? You can do what you like to me, but you'll never get me to turn on my partner.'
Sal turned away, dismissing the statement with a wave of his hand. 'Believe me, Ken, when I want to be, I can be most persuasive.' Sal snapped his fingers at Enzo and Radio. 'Take him downstairs and show him to his new quarters. You know what to do.'
The two men nodded and as Sal turned away, they started to propel Hutch towards a door beneath the large staircase. It opened to reveal steps down into the basement – a place Hutch had only ever seen used for "punishments" before. He started to struggle, his feet digging into the wooden floor of the hallway as Radio pushed his arm more firmly up his back. The blond grunted in pain and pushed back, trying to kick out at the two captors, knowing that once he was downstairs, he had even less chance of getting out of the clutches of the gang. His cover was blown, the job was wide open. He needed to start thinking about his own safety.
Without a pause, Enzo gave loose with one hand and cuffed Hutch around the head, catching the cop across his temple. Enzo's hand was huge and the blow savage in its intensity. Hutch saw stars and for a moment, his stomach threatened to rise up into his throat as nausea engulfed him. He felt his knees turn to rubber and some of the fight left him as Enzo took a firmer hold of his arm and dragged him towards the doorway.
With a last desperate effort, Hutch let out a yell, leaned forward as far as he could and tried one last time to dislodge the two men holding him. He managed to break his right arm free from Radio's grasp and whirled to face Enzo again, his fist raised and ready to strike a blow at the big man. Radio let out a bellow of rage as Enzo ducked out of the way of the blow and took his gun from the waistband of his jeans, reversing it and in one fluid motion Radio brought the butt of the weapon down onto the back of the blonds neck. Hutch had a moment's impression of intense pain and something looking suspiciously like fireworks set off inside his head. For a split second he marvelled at the colours before they disappeared and darkness took him, his body sagging between the two men as he fell unconscious, hanging from their grasp.
Radio grinned, panting slightly, put the gun back into his waistband and with Enzo's help, dragged the boneless blond through the door and down the steps, the toes of Hutch's boots leaving dark marks on the floor in his wake.
