Normally, it would have been the type of assignment Starsky would have fully enjoyed. Here he was on stake out, in the back seat of a limo, in the arms of a very attractive female FBI agent officer. They were pretending to be an amorous couple who couldn't keep their hands off each other. On this day though, with August, his body pressed against hers, was the last place he wanted to be.

Starsky wished he was back at the safehouse with Hutch guardedly in his care.

But they all were on the job, and he tried to stop himself from sitting up and joining Jay in his "Sonora and Hutch" watching.

Jay discreetly lowered his binoculars. "Dave, he looks bad."

Starsky sighed heavily and August ran a sympathetic hand up and down his arm.

Jay kept talking. "We need to make a move soon."

The woman agent fidgeting uncomfortably underneath the weight of Starsky's body, asked, "How are we gonna grab him when that wall of a bodyguard is never more than a few feet away?"

The group of rescuers had spent days monitoring Hutch's and Sonora's comings and goings and each of them was worn out from the grueling surveillance work of trying to be close to the mark--but invisible.

The safehouse was ready- that's where Huggy was. Now, all they needed was to get Hutch there somehow so Jay could begin the hard work of giving him back his true identity. Deprogram him.

Shaking out a cramp in his leg, Starsky concluded, "We're gonna have to…separate them. Create some kind of disturbance."

"Yeah. I was just thinking the same thing," Jay agreed wholeheartedly as he peeked at the dark-haired cop and the female agent in his rear view mirror. Turning the car on and sitting up to play out his role of chauffeur to the lustful couple in the backseat of the limo, he said to them, "Let's get back to the house. Plan something for tomorrow. Every day he's behind doors with Sonora and that doctor of hers is another day for something really bad to happen."

The look on Starsky's face immediately made Jay regret expressing his concerns out loud.

August gave the back of the man behind the wheel a harsh look in return for his irresponsible statement.

"It's OK, Dave, we'll get him," Jay added, hoping to repair the damage, while he flashed in the mirror a 'sorry-for-the-dumb- comment-please-forgive-me-smile' to the woman evil-eyeing him.

Starsky raised his body off the lady cop. August, also sitting up, straightened out her clothes and offered encouragement. "Yeah, David, we'll think of something."

Starsky nodded absentmindedly, his thoughts plagued by fear for Hutch. He prayed his friend would make it through another night.

Hold on, Hutch. One more night, buddy. Hold on.

-ooooo-

Out of the Mist

Jay, speaking quietly into the walkie-talkie, gave Huggy the signal.

Huggy wasn't thrilled about putting himself in the pathway of Sonora's Monster and Hutch's new permanent companion, but he would do anything to put things right again for his two friends.

It was the first time since Hutch had been missing that Huggy had been within a few feet of the sorely missed member of the dynamic duo and his heart ached to see the condition he was in.

Hutch always had a kind of lively glow about him-- that was gone. In its place was a vacant hurt look that almost brought the tears in Huggy's eyes to run down his chilled cheeks. He silently prayed the light was only dimmed and not out forever.

Hutch's inner brilliance was as bright, striking and bold as the luminous blond hair on his head that often drew folks to tag the color as a name to call him by. He was a light in the world. His hair, sometimes carrying the glow of the sun in it, served as a reminder of that.

Huggy just couldn't bear the thought of the man he had grown to cherish to be extinguished like a candle blown out by an unexpected gust of cold wind.

He also couldn't bear to think of a Starsky without a Hutch. The dark-haired cop was barely hanging on by a thread. The last few months had beaten down the normally exuberant man Huggy called friend. So Huggy was well aware how important it was to get his part of this operation right. If he didn't get it right, one dark-haired detective might very well blow a gasket and have to be sent home to Bay City strapped down into a wheelchair -- drool cup under his chin.

He returned his concentration to Ken Hutchinson.

Even from a distance, Huggy could see how Hutch thoughtfully engaged in conversations with Sonora and her bodyguard. Easily offering a hand here or a touch there to express his absolute presence in their lives. That was the Hutch he knew.

Huggy smiled to himself. So the Grand Dame of the criminal underground had not been able to destroy one of his missed friend's other defining attributes.

It was peculiar to the barkeep that after all his years on the street that Hutch had been able to hold on to it. It was hard to explain the gentleness that seemed to imbue his demeanor.

It was the presence of simple goodness.

Huggy's grandmother, Nalene, had been strict about him getting his education. The 82 year old would sit down with the eight year old Horatio later to be known as Huggy Bear. She would pull out the big black book and point to a word inside. Horatio would have to read that word out loud. Reading the definition over and over again until he could repeat it --recite it out loud without looking in the book. His grandmama told him learnin' words would make life easier for a boy like him. A child who had lost a mother to pneumonia and a father to the streets. She explained to him some day grandma wouldn't be there for him—but, she said, "them words gonna take you the rest of the way, boy, hear me--don't n'ver forget 'em."

Right now he was remembering one of those words-- mouthing the definition, he recited it to himself—goodness --in man is not a mere passive quality, but the deliberate preference of right to wrong, the firm and persistent resistance of all moral evil, and the choosing and following of all moral good.

Grandmama Nalene would sure be proud.

The sometimes testy disposition of Starsky's partner didn't fool Huggy. He knew it was goodness that shined through Hutch as he generously expressed his commitment and devotion to the people in his life. A squeeze of his hand transmitted it quietly.

"I'm here for you," it pronounced.

When Huggy had first met the cop from Minnesota, he had said to himself, "A few years out here- nobody at home's gonna recognize that guy. These streets gonna beat that right outta him."

But it didn't happen. Over the years, Huggy realized he didn't know everything about Ken Hutchinson. Didn't know how tough, steady, and brave the guy was. The kid from Minnesota had a constant unchanging nature that wasn't going down without a fight.

Ken Hutchinson wouldn't let the streets strip him of who he was meant to be. Huggy had respected him for that… but now…

Someone had taken his friend's spirit captive and now Ken Hutchinson was a man going down fast.

So…Huggy would risk getting way too close to the Monster. He'd throw himself in the path of danger. Do whatever it took. He wanted some of that light back in this life and Starsky surely needed it.

The barkeeper on a mission pedaled the bike nearer to where they all stood.

Hutch was opening the car door for Sonora, who readied to get in the white pristine 1950 vintage Rolls Royce. The Monster was putting the last of the shopping bags filled with expensive new outfits for his missus into the trunk

Huggy navigated in his mind how close he needed to get to Sonora to snatch the satin black and pearl clutch out of her hand, and how far enough away he needed to be from the giant monster's claws to accomplish the goal--a good long chase down the cobblestone back streets from the bodyguard and his socialite mob boss. Their chase to retrieve her stolen purse hopefully would leave Hutch behind for Jay and Starsky to pluck him out of enemy hands and deposit him into the waiting van and back to the safehouse.

Now, purse snatching wasn't his specialty. Not to say as a young kid he hadn't foolishly made a few tries at the get rich quick stunt, but never felt good about it afterwards.

This time though, he would feel like a million bucks.

-ooooo-

Watching from the van, Starsky thought the whole scene could have been comical.

The expressions on the shocked faces as Huggy successfully plucked the purse from Sonora was memorable. Seeing the giant drop the bags he was trying to fit in the trunk, practically tripping and falling forward to the ground as he thunderously took off after the purse snatcher, also was unforgettable. Sonora racing after them with her billowing long skirt held hiked up in a firm grip was permanently ingrained and should have brought a smirk to Starsky's face.

It all might have been very funny, if he didn't have to see Hutch take off after the group--only to immediately falter, and stumble weakly to the ground.

The fall catapulted Starsky out of the van and to his ill friend's side.

Hutch was seeing double. He shut his eyes and tried to figure out if he was sitting or kneeling. He was aware he was on the ground and that shouldn't be.

The banging inside his head announced it had been a major mistake to try and run after them. He knew it wasn't a good idea to begin with but he wanted to make sure she wasn't in any danger. Sonora had told him to stay there and wait. The shooting pain was the direct result of his noncompliance.

The detective from Bay City, his ex-partner, had appeared out of no where and held on to him through the painful episode.

The man who had rushed to his side was rubbing a hand up and down his back as Hutch struggled to get his breath back. As his muscles dutifully relaxed, the pain subsided a bit. Feeling a strange familiarity between the two of them, he weakly tried to push David Starsky away.

"S'all right --I'm here," Detective Starsky whispered to him.

He raised his eyes to the man he thought was stalking him, but looking at the person who used to be his friend, only caused the drumming pain in his head to pulse more fiercely and he pushed the cop away again. This time the officer sitting back on his heels released him. Starsky kept a troubled intense gaze on him and Hutch wanted to get away from it and the man the stare belonged to.

"Just…just…back off. Kay? Please…n-need a minute," Hutch said.

"Right," Starsky answered despairingly.

The sound of the van screeching to a halt jarred Starsky. Jay waving anxiously yelled out, "Let's get going! Right! No tellin' how long we got."

Starsky called back," Justa minute." He listened to his friend trying to ration his breathing to ease the pain. His own breath held captive by Hutch's attempts to quell the agony. An attempt that failed when Hutch struggled to get up.

Starsky caught his partner just as he tumbled into unconsciousness.

-ooooo-

Hutch woke with an exhausted grunt. Feeling the gentle wash of coolness on his face, he opened his eyes expecting to see his wife Sonora instead of the scrutinizing glare of the eight eyes that ogled him. A tall familiar-looking thin black man, his ex-partner, that guy Jay from the coffee shop and a woman he didn't know were all peering down at him like they were watching the aftermath of an accident.

No Sonora, no M, or Dr. Archelaus.

He wanted to move away from them, but just even the thought of moving hurt, so he did nothing. Their voices were muffled as Hutch watched the faces turn to one another as they talked over him. He didn't know what they were saying. But it was about him.

"S-sonora?" he asked them. He wanted his wife.

She was the only one who understood his pain. Knew how to comfort him. So beautiful and good. He needed her. She was like an angel. They needed to get his wife.

"Sonora?" The volume of his voice was weak-- but surely someone would call her. He looked at that Detective.

That cop should get my wife, please.

Maybe they had called her already.

She's coming.

The thought made him feel like it was going be all right.

Sonora. Sonora…Son…or…

-ooooo-

When he awoke again, he didn't know how long it had been, but nothing had changed. He forced his head to move so his eyes could take in the whole room.

No. Something wasn't right. As he attempted to move, the cold tug of the metal on his left arm confirmed it.

No.

Starsky said guiltily, "Sorry, buddy."

What the hell is going on here?

"Sorry," Starsky told him again. "Trust me, huh? Everything's gonna be OK."

"Trust?" Hutch mumbled groggily before falling back to sleep.

-ooooo-

Starsky had opposed handcuffing Hutch to the bed. At the moment he was feeling tremendous regret about not listening to Jay's insistence they take all precautions.

After a loud and heated debate with Jay and August, believing his friend was too weak to escape, Starsky had reluctantly agreed to cuff just one of Hutch's arms to the bedpost.

He had been wrong.

While the members of the rescue team gathered in another room to discuss the plans for the next day, Hutch had figured out how to take the bed frame apart and free himself. Under different circumstances, Starsky would have applauded his partner's ingenuity.

Apparently, Hutch was also strong enough to squeeze himself out of the small window, the only window, in the room and out into the night air. Probably half way back to the witch who had taken control of his mind and heart, Starsky thought angrily.

Starsky had made the mistake of underestimating the extent of Hutch's altered state of mind. Jay had pulled the overwrought detective aside and told him to never beat up on himself for being an advocate for his friend. They'd find Hutch.

Throwing on their jackets, the four liberators, headed out into the surrounding woods to find him.

Starsky figured his friend, who didn't have a coat on, was too weak to make it far on foot. They needed to find him without delay. This kind of cold could easily put a body at risk to hypothermia. Hutch was in bad enough shape as it was without adding another diagnosis-- hypothermia --to his list of medical problems.

So August, Starsky, and Huggy went off on foot-- urgently searching through the misty bog for him. Jay slowly drove along the rugged backroad trail, waiting to whisk Hutch

back to the warm indoors as soon as he was found.

-ooooo-

A panicked Sonora paced angrily back and forth in front of M, periodically swatting ineffectual punches to his bulging biceps, yelling at him, "How could you let this happen! How?"

A group of men looking like smaller clones of M encircled the odd couple of their boss, the Monster, and the frantic mistress of the house. Sonora crying hysterically charged. "You find him! I want him back home to-o-night!"

She made a guttural sound while she flung a fist at the bodyguard. M carefully stopped her attack by gingerly catching her tiny hand in his. Completed undistracted by her, he barked out instructions to the huddle of Latrielle security as Sonora collapsed onto his chest sobbing loud undecipherable curses into the wet spot she was making on his shirt.

"What are you guys waiting for? Get out there!" he barked out. "Find that cop!" He added, rolling his eyes downward to the clinging woman of the house stuccoed to his chest. "Right away!"

On cue, the mobster princess wailed.

Dr. Archelaus, entering the room, pushed through the exiting army M had just dismissed. "I only now heard," he said, exchanging shocked glances with the giant.

The doctor never expected the uncustomary sight of Sonora seeking refuge in the giant's arms. He had never even seen them share a handshake. M's expression begged for intervention and the doctor moved to unhinge the tiny woman from the behemoth.

"Darling. You must calm down." He pulled at her and she vaulted into his arms sobbing loudly. Shaking his head in disgust, the doctor scolded her, "Sonora, stop this right now!"

He tipped her head back to see the puffy read orbs that inhabited the place her beautiful eyes used to be. The nearly hysterically woman muffled her sobs, hyperventilating with choking breaths. "H-he's g-g- g-one…gone," she sputtered. Dr. Archelaus drew her back into his arms and smoothed down the normally tamed abundant curls as he attempted to soothe her. "Yes. Yes. I know, baby," he told her.

Sonora returned to her mournful wailing and M abruptly made way for the door, huffing, "I'm out!"

The doctor continued to try to console her. "Darling, you know this might be the perfect time to put this whole thing to rest. Let's call for the plane. You and I will go to…ahh…Malaysia. Hmm? You love it there. A great shopping extravaganza. We'll…"

"No-o!" she shouted. Sonora pushed him away. Dabbing both wrists to her wet cheeks, a strange calmness took over her. "I'm going to get my husband," she said with an icy deliberateness.

The diminutive woman stormed out of the room.

"Sonora!" the doctor called after her. He didn't try to stop her. Dr. Archelaus had never seen her in such a state.

-ooooo-

Hutch didn't know where he was.

He had escaped his kidnappers. Now the goal was to find a phone. Sonora was probably worried sick. He would call and she would come for him.

The semi-frozen ground crunched underneath him and the wetness of it had already seeped into the shoes that served as little protection from the cold. Shivering, as he looked around the sodden wilderness, he steadied himself on a petrified tree limb.

Why had Detective Starsky tried to detain him? Hutch was confused about this person who wouldn't go away. Once again the hammering in his head was making it hard to think.

The freezing man remembered the connection he felt with the ex-partner who had earlier in the day offered a gentle hand to massage peace into his misery. There was something about Detective Starsky's face and voice that had just recently started to inhabit Hutch's conscious mind.

He had not told his wife or Dr. Archelaus about it though.

Sonora certainly didn't want her husband returning to a police officer's life—not when it had brought so much misfortune into the world they shared together. She had made it clear --police work was part of his past, not the present. Definitely not a part of their future together.

So when his ex-partner's face, his presence, started haunting him, Hutch had kept that little piece of information to himself. He would do anything to not upset his wife. Hadn't he put her through enough already?

Hutch even thought about asking Frank to make a few discreet calls to determine why his ex-partner had decided to show up. Why now? Hutch desperately wanted to make sure David Starsky couldn't hurt Sonora. M had shown himself to be a good friend—but the man worked for his wife and Hutch didn't want to put the bodyguard in the compromising position of doing something behind Sonora's back.

And, recently Hutch was getting a strange feeling about Dr. Archelaus. The doctor's ministrations over him felt insincere. The Latrielle's family practitioner—the man who was like a father to Sonora-- was getting tongue tied when Hutch asked questions about why he wasn't getting better—or about his treatment. What had doctors who had treated him after the accident said? Maybe we should contact them for a second opinion about my condition?

The little man would just shrug under the weight of the oversized caramel colored lab jacket he always wore and titter out some unconvincing words of assurance that he had it all under control…just a matter of time…and so on and so on. But Hutch wasn't convinced. Once when he had asked the doctor about all the pills he was taking, the man practically made a run for the nearest exit. All of it was making Hutch wary of the man's intentions. Certainly not a person he could confide in.

So he told no one about Starsky's voice being in his head. Or the peculiar way he felt whenever the detective got near him. Hutch didn't want to even think about why there was a feeling of intimacy underneath it all. How could he tell anyone about that when he didn't understand it himself?

Right now, he just wanted to get home…back into the warmth of the king-sized bed he shared with the woman he loved more than anything, more than any one in the world.

The temperature was dropping.

So cold. Keep moving. Gotta keep moving. So cold.

-ooooo-

The full moon overhead provided an eerie illumination to assist them. The swampy landscape was a sticky muddy goo that sucked at their shoes, forcing thigh muscles to ache as the searchers determinedly trudged through it.

One of them bordered on frantic.

Starsky's heart was starting to do that thumping thing it did when he got scared.

What if they didn't find him? What if Sonora had been waiting- hidden in the midst and had already driven off with Hutch – only hours away from a helicopter ride to some other Latrielle estate out of Canada. To some other country--out of reach from him.

The dampness collecting on his clothes flaunted just how cold it really was. Conscious recognition of the bitter cold was making the dull thudding in his chest more intense. He looked at his watch.

It had been over four hours since Hutch had gone missing.

Damn it, Hutch. Where are you, partner?

Starsky gave into to a frustrated growl as near panic started to take over the feeling of exhaustion that was dragging his heart and soul through the muck and mire of the wasteland that surrounded him.

"Over here! Over here! He's here!" Huggy yelled.

The call pumped life and power back into the dark-haired cop. He scrambled up over an embankment. "I'm comin', buddy," he declared out loud.

Reaching the top of the small hill he had just climbed, Starsky stopped and took a moment to figure out the direction of Huggy's voice.

"Here! Over here. Starsky, I got 'm!"

Starsky quickly stumbled toward the place Huggy's calls were coming from. He made an aggressive effort to push his aching body forward --galloping up the rugged path toward the shadow of figures moving in the darkness. Starsky could see Huggy taking off his jacket to cover the body on the cold ground.

Hutch had been out there passed out--vulnerable to the night's creatures and brutal cold for hours.

Starsky went to one knee, whipping off his beat up brown leather jacket to lay it over his downed friend. Huggy had already started rubbing some warmth into one of the limp arms and Starsky immediately starting rubbing in warmth, too, while he lowered his head to whisper to Hutch, "Whatcha' go do this for, huh?"

"I'll get Jay." August's voice sounded scared and Starsky didn't like what it was doing to the fear banging inside his chest.

He thought Hutch looked blue. Starsky didn't know if it was the incandescence hue of the full moon filtering through the mist of the swamp, or if it was the blue color possessed skin that had caused the frightened sound in August 's voice. But the peaceful look on Hutch's face wasn't helping at all.

"Let's get him inside," Jay ordered, reaching for Hutch's feet. Starsky and Huggy immediately followed his lead by slipping firm grips under Hutch's arms, carrying him to the jeep parked nearby.

Starsky once again found the stranger that Hutch had become, holding onto him as he shivered violently despite the blankets and coats they had wrapped around him.

It was oddly familiar and, when Hutch looked up into Starsky's face and rambled something about helping him, and giving him some medicine, Starsky's stomach flipped flopped in shock.

"Starsk, please…give me some medicine," he mumbled the words again.

"What's he sayin'?" Jay demanded.

A stunned Starsky reflected, "It's…ahh…He doesn't know what he's saying. It's… somethin' that happened…coupla years ago."

"It's a memory though, right? That's a good sign," Jay yelled to him, manhandling the steering wheel and causing all of them to jump in their seats inside the compact vehicle.

"Yeah?" Starsky answered as he looked down at Hutch. The worried cop didn't see anything good about what was happening.

Hutch had tried to escape from them, nearly killing himself in the process. Those weren't the actions of a person who wanted their help.

-ooooo-

Hutch's eyes were on him and Starsky couldn't break the connection as they silently studied him. It was like Hutch was trying to bring something to the surface and Starsky was afraid the wrong action on his part might truly work against Hutch's ability to bring him into remembrance.

The stare that kept him bound wasn't fearful, just tentative.

Starsky couldn't help but give him a warm smile. Wanting his missing for too long friend to know he was safe, he reached out a hand to smooth back the hair from Hutch's forehead and said, "You know me, right?"

Hutch shook his head slightly. "Starsky," he said with affirmation. But the exploration by his gaze continued.

"You don't gotta be afraid of me, you know that?"

"OK…no, I know," Hutch replied with a little bit of confidence.

"We've been best friends for a long time. I'm here to help ya." Starsky swallowed hard. "There's been a lot of things that…have happened … that's gotta be fixed."

Hutch gave him a bewildered expression.

Starsky, adding more warmth to it, smiled at his friend again. "You better get some sleep, pal. I'm not about to let anything else happen to you. That's all you have to know. OK?" Pausing to get the words just right, he continued, "You…used to trust me. I know that's hard

for you to do right now… but, I…I promised ya-- I'd find you. You remember that?"

I'll find you, Hutch. I promise, hear me, I'll find you.

The distant memory resurfaced and Hutch had to honestly answer, "Yes."

"Buddy, we've been through a lot, you and me. We're gonna get through this, too. You get some sleep. We got a few difficult days ahead. Just remember…" smoothing the hair once more, he added, "… I love ya. OK," Starsky assured him as he fought back his emotions.

For some reason he did believe that. Hutch closed his eyes and slept.

-ooooo-

"You've been on the inside," August said teasingly, letting Jay know she had figured out something about him. She had made that call on him on day one and came up with practically nothing at all. Somebody was keeping his identity hidden. Even with all her connections, she had not been able to crack the seal on who Jay Anderson really was.

If that was his real name.

Jay was a Jack of all trades and a master of them all. That was probably all she would ever know about him.

His identity was well protected. The man had to have worked inside one of the clandestine government intelligence agencies to be so invisible.

The ex- master spy who was their leader was obviously someone who knew and had secrets. Men with power would no more have allowed Mr. Jay Anderson to roam the earth aimlessly than turn their backs on him. But, apparently, Jay was very good at what he did—if he had walked away from a life of keeping government secrets—doing their dirty work -- and was still alive.

The subject of her inquisition gave a confirming grumble, then added, "Yeah. I've been on the inside. Hell, I was the inside. That's what you want to know, isn't it? Sure, there was a time I had direct access to a long list of heads of state, military, industry, banking…"

August, cutting him off, said, "OK. I get the picture. You were a bad dude- still are apparently."

Jay shrugged as he took in a deep drag of cigarette. "Unhealthy habits die hard," the mysterious figure said, smartly commenting on both his past and his bad habit.

He smiled sadly back at her, letting the joker in him rest as he leaned against the porch wall. It was a signal to her he was open for more questions.

"So, what was it--couldn't tell the good guys from the bad anymore- that, what sent you running?" August asked.

"No." He chewed at his bottom lip as he got reflective. "More like…when the good guys stopped trying to hide the fact they were actually the bad guys…things got pretty ugly. A lot can be said for pretense. They forgot that. Turned my stomach and…"

The porch door squeaked as Starsky came outside, interrupting the conversation.

"Hey, how's he doing?" August asked.

"I don't know. Seems to recognize me-- but I don't think he's sure."

"He knows you," Jay confirmed. "Your partner just has to give himself permission that's OK. Sonora's tried to convince him otherwise… but you can see it, man. He knows ya."

The detective didn't realize his sigh of relief was heard by his two new friends until August gave his arm a squeeze and a bright smile of understanding. Feeling good for the first time in a long while, he grinned back at her.

-ooooo-

"Look, he's been brainwashed," Jay reminded Starsky. "Your buddy's not stupid. It's a real smart move on his part. Stringing us along like he's on board. I've seen it before--first time we get around some other folks, he's gonna spill his guts. Who knows what will hit the fan."

"You said it was dangerous to push him too quickly- it might cause a meltdown. That's what you said," Starsky pointed out.

"I know what I said. I thought we would have been able to get underground by now. This place is secluded but it ain't no hideaway. Look, Hutch knows exactly what you and I know--Sonora and her assortment of goons are just around the corner. We gotta dig in where we are and get some doubt in him about the dear, sweet Mrs. Hutchinson. Getting some of the truth in him is our only chance at being prepared for when she does show up. He's holding out for her- that's why the guy won't eat. It's the only power he's got against us right now. Probably thinks it will force us to let him go."

Starsky slumped against the wall. He peered through the halfway opened door, studying Hutch, who paced back and forth in the room like a caged wildcat.

Jay spun around quickly. Blocking Starsky's view of his friend, he said, "Wait a minute. You said Hutch remembered something, right? In the car. Right? We'll just take that and throw it back at him… but not just yet. Let's just give him a picture of who that witch is he's married to. You with me on this or what?"

Reluctantly, Starsky agreed. "All right. Yeah, I'm with you." Starsky looked back over at Hutch who was glaring them both down.

"He's gonna hate me," Starsky said sullenly.

Jay patted him sympathetically on the arm and Starsky followed him back into the room.

-ooooo-

"So where did you meet her?"

"I don't have to answer any of your questions," Hutch said, tiredly letting his head dip.

"Is it too difficult? Maybe you're not sure," Jay taunted.

"I know where I met her!" Hutch retaliated.

"Why don't you tell me?"

No answer.

"Ok, Ken--do you remember the first time you saw Ms. Latrielle? Tell me."

Hutch shook his head as if he was starting to get upset. Then he took a deep breath and spoke carefully as he reviewed his life with Sonora. "I told you all of this before. We met in New Orleans. We've been married for three years… she's- she's…ever since I had the…the accident…she's given up every…everything for me. You don't know anything about it! What she's done, been through…"

"Oh, yeah. She's the perfect wife," Jay said mockingly. Taking a position next to an overhead projector, he flicked a picture onto a blank wall while he motioned to Starsky to turn off the light.

As the room darkened, a clear picture of Sonora sitting at a table full of men from all walks of life covered the empty space.

"Yes, your wife…Sonora," Jay went on. "Ken, do you know who this man is?" he asked, pointing to one of the men at the table.

"I just…I just want to go home," a small voice answered as Hutch searched Starsky's face. "Can I just go home? What am I doing here?"

"Hutch…" Starsky attempted to explain.

"STOP CALLING ME THAT!"

Jay placed the tip of his pointer on the picture on the wall. "Do you know who this man is?"

Hutch turned his head away and Jay raised his voice louder, "I said do you know who this man is?"

Hutch looked back at Jay. "I don't know!" he answered with weak annoyance.

"Your wife knows him fairly well. Don't you want to know why she knows him? Why she's seated at a table full of old guys, smoking cigars…wearing expensive Italian suits. Are you interested?"

Hutch, gathering his arms close to his chest, started rocking uncomfortably in his seat, trying to stare blankly ahead.

"What if I told you she sits on the board of the International Crime Network," Jay said, again pointing to the picture on the wall. "And each person at this table represents part of a chain. Drugs, prostitution, illegal betting, money laundering…murder. You name it. This picture is from a recent meeting in Buenos Aires. So, I ask you--what wifely duties do you think your wife was performing at this meeting? She doesn't look like she's serving tea." Jay clicked through a series of pictures of Sonora talking to different men, shaking hands, and involved in purposeful conversations.

Hutch's eyes drifted away from the pictures on the wall as he explained to Jay, "She…s-she does a lot of charity work…s-she travels a lot. Those pictures don't mean anything." Reiterating, " I want to go home."

Jay tossed some files on the table. "Charity work. Hah! You gotta be kidding." He flipped open a folder and took out a photo of another man with Sonora. "Let's see-- this guy's got a sheet dating back over 30 years. Murder, kidnapping, drug trafficking…hmm, nothing about charity work." Jay threw down a black and white picture. "How bout this upstanding citizen? He's the one sitting right next to your wife… name's Mickey Two's--that's cuz he likes the two bullets in the back of the head system."

"Why are doing this! Can't you just leave us alone…we're happy."

Jay got in Hutch's face. "Because it's all a lie. You only know what she wants you to know. She got inside your head. Stripped it clean--tried to anyway."

Spinning Hutch's chair around to face Starsky, Jay said, "See that guy over there? That's the best friend you have in the whole world and you treat him like a stranger. Haven't you wondered about why he's here? Last night-- you remembered something about him. Didn't you? David, here, had to reveal something to me that under normal circumstances he would have taken as a secret to his grave. Had to tell me something that happened to you no one else should ever know-- so I could find a way to get through all the junk your wife put in there." Jay tapped a finger to Hutch's head.

Jerking away from him, Hutch yelled back, "I want to go HOME!"

"You remember Jeannie?" Jay said quietly.

Hutch gave him a strained look of confusion diluted with vague recognition. "Jeannie?" he repeated.

"Yeah. You remember. They took you outta your home. Your partner almost went nuts trying to find you. You were strung out and they were gonna kill you. But you got away." Jay crouched down low as he continued talking. "How bad you needed a fix…and your friend over there was with you day and night. Helping you kick it. He was there for you. That ain't the kind of thing a person forgets. You begged him for help…for drugs."

Hutch raised a guilty stare to the man who had been his best friend.

Starsky looked away. It hurt too much.

"You remember Ben…" Jay said.

"Forest," cutting Jay off, Hutch finished the name.

"Yesss. Ben Forest."

"I want to go…home…" Hutch now sounded less certain of the demand.

"Back to Bay City?" Jay asked.

"I'm tired. Tired," Hutch told them.

"Jay, let's take a break, huh?" Starsky suggested, his eyes glued on Hutch's dipping head.

"Sure, why not? Let's take a break," Jay agreed, clicking off the projector and silencing its quiet hum.

-ooooo-

"Hey, I brought you a sandwich." Starsky offered the plate to his friend.

"Not hungry."

"Figured that. Well, I'll just leave it here in case you change your mind," Starsky said in a genial voice.

Grabbing at Starsky's jacket, a desperate Hutch petitioned, "Why don't you help me? Let me go. You seem like a good guy. You're not buyin' all this, I can tell."

"See, there it is," Starsky said humbly. "The Hutch I used to know always knew what I was thinkin'- we had this connection. It's funny, I guess underneath it all – we still have it. And, I'm for sure, the man I used to know wouldn't want me to leave him stranded in some…nightmare. So…no, buddy-- I wish there was a better way to help remind you of who you are, but I don't got the answers. Jay's here to help ya-- may not seem like it just now. So, unless I see you getting hurt…"

"Getting hurt? And you don't think ripping my life out from under me doesn't hurt! Telling me lies about my wife… my life…doesn't hurt!" Hutch contested.

Starsky backed his way out of the room. The whole situation made him feel weak, and he couldn't let his sympathy for his best friend mess up what Jay had started. Not after what happened the last time, when Hutch had almost frozen to death in some failed escape.

"Wait! Listen. Help me. My wife is rich. She'll pay you. Whatever you want," Hutch bargained.

Starsky just shook his head. Leaving, he closed the door behind him.

(tbc)