Chapter Four—Not a Shirt on my Back
December 10
Hutch's POV
Have I mentioned how much I hate being undercover? I feel grimy in the jeans and long-sleeved shirt I've worn for the last two days. Having to travel all over the damned country by train looking for our guy kind of limits our luggage and laundry options. I have a feeling we're close, though…real close.
The worst part, by far, is this stupid pony tail. I mean, I don't mind my hair being a little long—even a bit shaggy—but this is ridiculous! It was NOT my idea. It was either let my hair grow out for six months or wear a wig! No way was that happening! So here I am with a ponytail creeping halfway down my back. And it's driving me nuts! Starsky just added a light beard and a bit of a mustache, which, once I got used to it, doesn't look half bad…he kinda looks like that Serpico guy on t. v. – not that I'd ever tell him that! He's big-headed enough as it is!
Fortunately, it took the Fibbies and the Department almost a year to set this whole thing up, so I had plenty of time. At least this wasn't as bad as the last time the Fibbies got us involved undercover! I don't think we're ever gonna live that one down. Starsk and I just agreed never to talk about it…ever.
I turn my attention back to the kid across from me. He looks to be in pretty rough shape. I roll him onto his side after checking him out. He seems okay, just completely wiped out. He smells like a distillery, though he doesn't look as if he makes a habit of it. He's clearly exhausted and definitely looks haunted by something; after this long I can tell a drunk from somebody just hurting. What really bothers me now is the thing I had mentioned to Starsky a few minutes earlier. This guy is young. Just a kid, really. Lying on the floor, he doesn't even look much over 18.
I wondered what the hell happened to cause him to melt down in the first place. He's tall and really skinny, but I get the impression he's very strong; and that if push came to shove, tackling him would be like tackling a wildcat. I also realize he has spent a lot of time outdoors. About that time, Starsky reached over and picked up the kid's wallet, a rather thin black one, which had fallen out of his back pocket when I'd turned him on his side. Starsky's eyes widened in shock when he flipped it open. He looked at me, as serious as I'd ever seen him. "Uuhhh, partner, we have a problem."
Starsky's POV
I flipped the i.d. holder over to Hutch. He saw the gold shield and studied the card across from it. He looked at me in disbelief. "He's a paramedic from L.A.?"
I nodded. "This could get dicey. If we do make contact and the kid gets in the way, there could be trouble."
"Uhh, Starsk, his name's John Gage, and he's 21."
I realize something has to be off, and I know Hutch has done the math, too. We know something about the LACFD, and nobody even gets into the Academy until age 21. But according to the i.d. he's been with the department for four years. Something is definitely weird here. We needed to talk to the kid ASAP. I grabbed his shoulder to shake him awake and instantly realize my mistake.
Johnny's POV
…And in an instant I'm back and totally sober—in full fight mode. Somebody is grabbing me and I struggle to fight off the attacker, catching the guy full in the face with my fist. I am bodily held down as things begin to come into focus around me. The blond guy with the pony tail is sitting on my legs and holding my shoulders, yet speaking softly to me, telling me to calm down, that I'm okay. I relax a little, unsure of why I trust him, but I do.
Looking around, I see the other guy, the one I hit, leaning against the wall with his head back, pinching his bleeding nose. The blond grinned at the other guy. "Nailed you a good one, huh?!"
The dark, curly hair riots all over the place, as he nods ruefully. I realize he reminds me of Chet as I close my eyes, the pain of it all just too much. Obviously, these two are friends, so now I feel ridiculous.
The blond moves away from me and over next to his friend; and both simply sit quietly for a few minutes. The silence makes me nervous, so I finally straighten up completely up, and stare at the two of them. They seem to be considering me closely, and I don't like it.
Starsky's POV
I realize the situation's gonna get out of hand real quick. The kid's eyes narrow at us. Hutch notices, too, of course. He nods and since we are still alone in the Observation Car, I start talkin'.
"Okay, John, here's the deal—"
"Hold on! How—"
"Your i.d. wallet fell out of your back pocket when you passed out. We checked it out. We had to know if you were our guy or not."
"What the hell are you talkin' about!" Now the kid is mad.
"Cool it a minute, and I'll explain. Look, me an' Hutch, here, are cops.
The kid's eyes widened, then he smirked in disbelief. "Right, an' I'm Flip Wilson!"
This kid was beginning to get on my nerves. He'd already punched my lights out, and I was about to return the favor. I roll my eyes.
"Just shut up a minute and listen!
"My name is David Starsky, he's Ken Hutchinson. We're undercover Homicide Detectives for the Bay City Police Department. We've been traveling all over the country for the past three months looking for a serial killer. He leaves out of LA,on the train, killing seemingly random passengers. We know we're getting close, and we're supposed to meet a possible witness on this train sometime tonight, but our witness is from Chicago, and not LA.
John very calmly looked me right in the eye and asked me, "So how do you know I'm not your killer? I have murdered somebody, y'know."
I gotta admit, he had me there. I glanced at Hutch, totally at a loss. The hairs stood up on the back of my neck. Yet, my instincts are good on this stuff, and I just knew he wasn't our guy. I could tell Hutch was tracking my thoughts, too.
Hutch starts to ask a question when a shot suddenly rings out. Hutch grunts in pain as his left arm blossoms brilliant red. Blood flies everywhere as he drops heavily. I grab John and pull him down as more shots fly around us. I tell him to stay down, which was automatic, but John was already crawling over to Hutch. The shots stop abruptly, as I check on my partner. He is conscious, but in a lot of pain.
I watched John yank off his shirt, using it for a tourniquet around Hutch's arm. He then starts checking his pulse and respiration, in full paramedic mode. Apparently, the kid knows his stuff. It is been quiet for a couple of minutes, and Hutch and I look at each other in grim realization. Our "witness" was our guy. We had been suckered. And we fell for it. And he is long gone. I swear, muttering under my breath, until John gets my attention.
"Starsky, hand me my duffle." I did, and he yanks a half-empty bottle of Jack Daniels out of it. He pours some of it on Hutch's arm, causing him to hiss with the pain. John does a little probing, under Hutch's intense protesting, and pales visibly. He looks up at me and I read the panic in his eyes loud and clear.
A/N In case you're wondering, there is no mistake on Johnny's i.d. He did have to recertify as a paramedic, but my idea is that the department, due to the extenuating circumstances, allowed him to officially retain his four years of previous service to the department. For original concept, please see Dianne's "Time to Stop Running."
A/N: First, thanks to those who are intrigued by this story! You have no clue how great that makes me feel. I love all the warm fuzzies I have been getting for this and for the other story I have posted!
And to the reviewer who wants me to change the POV style here and doesn't seem to care for the style of some of the character's "voices,"
I chose to get directly into the character's heads, which may not always be what would come out of their mouths on a prime-time t. v. show; especially Mike—who barely talked at all, lol!
I did warn you the characters would be OOC.
I am not here to make the boys act like they do in other writer's stories. What fun would that be? There's room in this big ol' sandbox for everyone to play!
I like POV stories. I'm sorry if I confused you, but this is a mostly a first person story. Some third person is essential to the story. I will attempt to be careful with my tenses, but, I enjoy working with various POVs. I have all sorts of stories floating around my beady little brain (not all POV)…Watch for the Starsky and Hutch POV story involving the boys going "undercover" ;-) in a very embarrassing situation! Promise it soon! Hugs to all!
