Chapter 6

Four hours later, the blond cop opened his eyes again but saw that the same light and noise infested hell was waiting for him in the real world. The bright lights bit at his eyes and the noise reverberated around his aching, pounding head, making his eyes feel as though they would pop out from their sockets. Hutch groaned softly and rolled over onto his side, gasping as his damaged rib bit back with a gnawing, savage pain.

If only the noise would stop, he'd feel better.

If only the lights would dim so that he could get some sleep, he'd feel more like himself.

Pain he could deal with. Pain he understood and the pains now eating away at his consciousness somehow made him feel more aware and more awake. The noises and the lights, however, fought against his senses, eroding his resolve and making him feel fragile and on edge. That's what they were designed to do, Hutch reasoned. He was fully aware of what Sal's men were trying to do to him, although he wondered how his cover had been blown. He'd been careful to ensure he hadn't been followed and he'd also been careful to keep himself deep inside his undercover persona. Whatever had happened, his luck had finally run out and the Cougars were going to make sure he would break, or be killed, whichever came first.

Carefully, Hutch rolled over onto his other side, so that his face was away from the glare of the strobe light. He closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on his breathing, forcing his mind away from his pain, his anxiety and his situation and onto his meditation techniques. He slowed his breathing, concentrating on the feel of the breath entering and leaving his body. Try as he might, however, he was unable to close out the flickering white light completely. It echoes around and around his closed eyelids, black and white, black and white while the incessant noise battered at his eardrums, leaving him wanting to scream at them to make it stop.

Hutch put his hands up to his head, holding them over his ears so that the cacophony dulled somewhat. With it muffled by his palms it was almost at bearable levels, but still the lights drove him crazy, allowing him no rest as they lit up his eyes even behind his eyelids. Eventually, in order to get some relief, Hutch took his hands away from his ears and instead ground the heels of his hands into his eyes, giving himself the longed for blackness and relief from the strobe.

Then, however, the noise came back full blast, seeming somehow louder now that he'd muffled it for a little while. The blond enjoyed the darkness for as long as he could endure the loud noises of the drums, clangs, crashes and din of the tape but then with a desperate yell, he covered his ears again, leaving his eyes to adjust to the flickering lights once more.

For an age, the flaxen haired cop alternated between shutting out first the noise and then the lights from his world. Each time he changed his hands around, he felt relief from either the noise or the strobe, but each time, the relief lasted for shorter and shorter periods until there was no respite at all.

Sweat covered his body now and Hutch longed for a drink to ease his parched throat. There was no water in his cell, nor did he really expect any. It wouldn't be good practice for his captors to make his stay with them in the least bit comfortable, but the thirst was just one more discomfort that the blond had to deal with, and it was one discomfort too much.

Lurching to his feet, Hutch limped to the bars of the stone room and clutched them with trembling hands.

'HEYYYY' he yelled in the direction of the stone steps leading up to the ground floor. 'HEYYY.'

There was no reaction to his calls, but the attempt made the blond feel better and he turned his back on the empty basement and leaned against the bars. His back and chest hurt with a fierce throbbing pain and through rips in his tee shirt, he could see bruises starting to form across his tanned torso. Hutch expected his back was similarly decorated and as he tried to move, his rib sent shock waves through his body, taking his breath away for a moment.

A noise behind him made the blond turn around in time to see Radio and Enzo coming down the steps. Silently Hutch let out a groan. He felt like shit and certainly in no condition for another round with the dynamic duo, and yet both heavies had that predatory air and evil glint in their eyes that signified they were happy to be having the opportunity to instigate round two. Quietly, Hutch backed away from the front of the safe. He swallowed nervously, the beating he'd endured and the hours of the sensory stimuli battering at his eyes and ears leaving him feeling on edge and unready.

Without a word, Enzo unlocked the gate to the safe and the two big men descended on the wary blond, grabbing him by the arms and pulling him out of his cell. Again they forced him up against the bars of the safe and again adjusted the lights until they were shining directly into Hutch' s eyes. The cop squinted, lowering his head to try and alleviate the pains in his eyes brought on by the brightness of the strobe light. Hutch felt a trickle of cold sweat run down the ridge of his spine and he tried to shield his eyes from the light. Radio grabbed Hutch's writs and forced it down and for a moment the blond cop struggled with his captor.

Radio and Enzo, however, were far stronger than their prisoner. They hadn't endured hours of light and sound and a beating that would laid out a lot of men. They held Hutch back against the cold metal bars as another unknown voice sounded from somewhere behind the lights.

'What's your name?'

'You know my fuckin' name. What's this all about?' Enzo cuffed Hutch across the temple, the blow surprising the cop and causing an involuntary yelp. 'Hutchinson' he said quietly. No use asking for more punishment. They already knew that much anyway.

'And you're a cop?'

'Give the man a prize' Hutch spat angrily. 'What is this, Jeopardy or somethin'?'

'What's your partner's name?'

Hutch's mind went onto red alert. Now they were getting to it! 'Don't have one' he muttered. A fist drove into his already fractured rib and Hutch screamed, doubling over with the pain.

'Don't try to be clever pig. It only makes it more painful. What's the name of your partner?'

Hutch tried to look at the man talking to him. He raised his hand to try to shield his eyes from the lights, but once again it was pushed down. The blond shook his head. Thinking was becoming difficult. Too many sensations assailing him at one time. The noises seemed louder, the lights seemed brighter and the pains more intense. His nerves were on the point of shattering and yet he'd sustained worse injuries than this in the past. He took a deep breath. What had they asked him? Oh yeah, they wanted Starsky's name. Fuddled as his brain was, however, that answer was one Hutch knew he mustn't give. His instinct to protect his buddy was ingrained in him and even this conditioning wouldn't bring about a betrayal of Starsky's trust.

'I told ya…..work alone' Hutch said wearily. He felt exhausted, tired beyond anything he'd felt before, but more than that, he felt more alone and more scared than he'd ever felt on any other job. The treatment he'd received at the hands of the Cougars had so far been painful, but nothing to what he'd encountered in the past, but someone had done their homework on conditioning techniques and this light and sound treatment, meant to break down resolve in even the strongest minds was working just a little too well.

'You work with a partner, we know that. Tell us his name' the impassive voice commanded, now inches away from him.

'If ya know…..why ask me?'

Again a blow, this time to his back, and this time, Hutch sank to his knees, panting and holding his head.

Make the noise stop.

Turn out the light.

Gimme some peace, just for a little while, then we can carry on.

'Tell us his name' the voice asked again, loud over the drum beats and clashing of cymbals.

Hutch concentrated on the words. What had they asked him? Tell us his name? Who's name? Which name did they want? 'Huh?' he asked, squinting upwards.

'Your partner….. what is his name?'

'He's…. his name is…..name is…..Robin an' I'm Batman' Hutch grinned up. 'Ya got me but you won't get him ya son-of-a-bitch.'

Fists and feet once again began to fly and once again Hutch could do nothing but curl himself into a ball and try to ride out the storm. This time, however, the beating didn't last as long as somewhere in the distance, Sal's voice rang out.

'Stop!'

Hutch curled himself into a ball. He spat out the coppery taste of blood from his mouth and closed his eyes, panting and holding his head in his hands. There was suddenly blessed silence in the room and the strobe light turned off, although for a while the difference didn't register with the blond man on the ground.

Hutch flinched as he felt a hand on his back and tried to turn away, but Sal held onto him and Hutch sensed rather than saw the cup held out to him.

'I stopped them as soon as I could' Milano said. 'Here, drink this, you'll feel better.' The bald man held out a cup and gratefully Hutch took it and swallowed down the cool water, letting the liquid satin ease his parched throat. Sal took the cup away from the blond's bloody hand and rested his hand on Hutch's back.

'I'm gonna have them leave you alone' he said softly. 'But you need to think about co-operating. I can't keep them away for ever.'

Hutch looked up into the deep brown eyes of the man. Why was Sal helping him? And yet, Hutch felt such a rush of gratitude to the man he'd taken to be the hard nosed boss of the operation that the only thing he could think of to say was 'thanks.'

Sal nodded to Radio and Enzo who took a hold of Hutch and hauled him to his feet. The blond cop stood swaying with weariness between the two huge men, his head hanging down and his eyes barely able to keep open. The dark and the silence cocooned him, easing away his fears and his anxiety. Hutch felt almost relaxed despite the bruises and cuts showing across his back, chest and limbs. He could find peace now that the lights and noise had gone. That was all that mattered.

Hutch barely struggled as Radio and his buddy manhandled him back into the safe. He sank down to the floor with a weary sigh as he heard the clang of the metal gate and the sound of the key in the padlock. The blond eased himself down until he was lying on his left, least injured side. The floor was hard, but he cushioned his head on the crook of his arm, his eyes closing even as he heard the footsteps receding, but just as he began to drift into a painful but more relaxed sleep, the noise and lights of his nightmares returned.

Hutch sat up, looking around him wildly. He was just in time to see Sal walking back up the steps out of the basement and he flung himself against the bars, grabbing hold of them with skinned and bloody knuckles.

'Nooooo' he yelled pitifully. 'Please……tell 'em to turn it off……please!'

His plea went unheard, or Sal just plain ignored him and as the door to the basement slammed shut, leaving Hutch alone once again in his noise and strobe filled world, the blond pulled himself away to the farthest corner of the safe, his back to the room and curled himself into a ball with a whimper. Slowly, he started to rock backwards and forwards, his arms wrapped around his knees as he tried desperately to quell the rising tide of panic in his chest and shut out the sensory overload around him.

Upstairs, Radio and Enzo followed Sal into his office.

'He's gonna crack any time' Radio grinned as he sat down.

'He should do. There was enough Ritavarin in that water to make a sloth jumpy. By tomorrow, he should be ready to do anything for me to get out of that basement. He'd probably kill his mother if we promised him we'd turn off the sound' Sal said contentedly.

'So what boss? Tomorrow we tell him to get Starsky?'

Milano sighed deeply. 'And once again your tiny brain refuses to work. Tomorrow, once he's on the verge of his breakdown, we start to work with him in earnest.'