Chapter 11 - the description of the lock down facilities and the punishment cells in this chapter is genuine and as accurate as possible
Starsky took a step backwards, his back pressed against the wall as Long and his two goons approached him. In the background Hutch tried desperately to think of something he could do to help his partner. Nothing came readily to mind and he winced as the two big guards took hold of the brunet's arms and pinned them behind his back, holding them in place with thick leather restraints. They frogmarched him from the reasonably comfortable room and down the corridor.
The punishment block was where the usual inmates were sent for moderate to severe infractions of the prison's rules – usually for something involving violence. It wasn't unknown for some of the longer serving prisoners to become violent at the drop of a hat and when that did happen there were special cells to accommodate them. In the punishment wing, each cell was soundproofed and consisted of a concrete sleeping block in the corner of the cell, the room being perhaps 10'x10'. Nothing else. Anyone who was to remain there for longer than the usual few hours was given a set of furniture made from dense corrugated cardboard – a rudimentary stool and a small functional desk were the norm. There were no slop facilities other than a pail in the corner. This was, after all, meant to be a removal of all privileges.
Hutch followed closely as Long directed the two guards and their prisoner to the wing, thankful that for once his partner was managing to keep his hot temper under control. In fact, the smaller man was still clinging to his alter ego, playing the part of Nate Sanna to the hilt.
'What're ya doin'? Where are ya takin' me? What's this all about Long? I thought we had a deal? Wassup? Your friend Charlie turned chicken? Couldn't deal? Or has he done a runner with the snow?'
Starsky's questions went unanswered as he was propelled down the corridor and finally brought to a halt outside a small door. The Warden opened it and the small group went inside.
The brunet blinked in the brighter austere light of the small cell and looked around him. The room was painted the same sickly grey colour as the rest of the prison seemed to be. It was devoid of furniture. The two men guarding him pushed him forwards so that he skidded to a halt by the far wall and stared at them as they hissed "kneel down".
Not wanting to make life too easy and realising that the game of playing Nate Sanna was finally over, Starsky gave his two guards a withering look.
'Say please?'
The man closest to him grinned at him and bent down, whipping a thick black baton across the brunet's shins. With a hiss of pain, Starsky crumpled forward until he was on his knees on the hard concrete floor. He cast a glance sideways to see that Hutch was looking around as if looking for help. He looked up at the Warden expectantly.
'So cop. I'm so glad you decided to give our little complex a visit' Long said smoothly.
The curly hared cop gave a forced grin. 'Wouldn't miss it for the world'. The man at his back cuffed him sharply around the head catching the still fresh bruise on his face and he winced, but kept quiet. Long was continuing.
'As an officer of the law yourself, you will appreciate that places like this must have rules, otherwise there's anarchy. You've broken one of San Elmis' most important rules. You've not been honest with us. You told us you were someone you weren't and that you had a deal for us. Plainly that was a lie and I need to know who else is in on the game. Indiscretion is a sin. For that you're gonna suffer. Think of it as breaking a law'.
Starsky looked around him at the two guards and his blond partner in the background. Hutch didn't like the way this little game was going and desperately he looked for a way out.
'A crime huh? Why do I get the impression I'm not gonna get away with a caution?' Starsky asked calmly, seeing the Warden grin at him.
'Misdemeanours get cautions. Your crime is more of a felony in our eyes. One of the most serious. There's only one penalty for your crime cop'.
'Don't tell me, you'll ride me out of town and hope never to see me again' the concrete was biting sharply into his knees now and his thighs burned with the strain of kneeling all that time. He felt the annoying start of pins and needles in his left foot and he was feeling altogether pissed at the situation. Who'd told them? Who'd blown his cover? It wasn't Hutch and he was pretty sure Anise was cool.
Long laughed out loud. 'Would that it was so simple! If that were to happen, you'd just go back, get a warrant and our pensions would go up in smoke!'
'Jeez I hate long explanations. You're beginning to bore me' Starsky grunted.
The guard at his back brought his baton down on the brunet's right shoulder. Starsky screamed, unable to stop himself as he felt his collarbone crack with the force of the blow. Pains flared down his chest and arm and up into his neck, fireworks exploding in crimson brilliance behind his eyes. Hutch took a step forward. He couldn't let this happen. Couldn't let his partner take any more pain. Desperately he wondered how long he could hold out before someone came to stop this.
Starsky forced himself upright, his head held to one side to alleviate the pressure on his arm and shoulder. The pain was agonising and his indigo eyes automatically sought out the crystal blues of his partner. He saw Hutch lurch forward and shook his head imperceptibly.
M'ok buddy, I can handle this for a while longer. Just hold on huh?
Hutch closed his eyes, his whole body stiff with tension as the Warden knelt down by Starsky's side.
'Tell me who ya told' he hissed.
'The Mormon Tabernacle Choir, the senate select committee and the guy who came in to deliver my breakfast. There's a little guy down in records who hasn't heard yet, but it's only a matter of time' Starsky ranted, his temper now stretched to breaking point.
Hutch winced. Why the hell did the brunet always have to come back with a smart assed comment? Couldn't he keep it zipped and just go with the flow? Well, no. Silence was not Starsky's forte. And the brunet was never one to take the easy route.
Eli Long's temper snapped too. He stood in front of the bound, kneeling man and drew back his booted foot, kicking full force at Starsky's ribs. The force knocked the curly haired man onto his side and he screamed again as the shock jostled his broken collarbone and the foot returned for a repeat performance.
Hutch couldn't bear the sight any longer. He'd waited as long as he could stomach for help to arrive, but he couldn't handle the sight of the three men beating up on his partner any more. With a roar he launched himself at the nearest guard, knocking the surprised man to the ground. Long looked around in surprise as the big blond grappled with his adversary on the ground. The warden turned back to Starsky with a leer. The brunet was lying on the ground, his breath wheezing through his teeth as he fought to remain conscious. This beating, coming so soon after his meeting with the two guards yesterday had eaten up his last reserves of energy, the pain of the additional broken bone sending him over the edge. In desperation he opened his eyes and saw the Warden's face.
'Oh now I get it! Not one cop. We got ourselves a brace of 'em!'
He leaned down, almost sitting on Starsky's side, using his body weight to anchor the tethered and semiconscious cop to the ground as he yelled for the other guard to help his companion.
Both uniformed men struggled with Hutch on the ground. At first the flaxen haired cop had managed to hold his own with the guard, who was younger, taller and heavier than he was. However, once the second guard joined in, the fight became distinctly one sided. Guard #1 lifted Hutch to his feet, his arms wrapped round the blond's neck in a passable full nelson wrestling hold as the other stood in front of him. Guard #2 grinned, panting.
'I never did like you Gibb, if that is your real name'. he drove his fist into Hutch's taut belly and crystal blue eyes closed as Hutch's breath was driven forcibly from him. The fists continued to pound at him, sometimes on his body, targeting his belly and sides, and sometimes veering north to hammer into his face.
Starsky struggled weakly on the ground, unable to get rid of the Warden's weight holding him down. With his hands still fastened behind his back, he could only watch in mute horror as his partner was steadily beaten to a pulp in front of him.
There was blood covering the handsome golden face now. The guard's fist had managed to break Hutch's nose and ruby red fluid coursed down his chin to spray droplets onto the grey concrete floor. The flaxen haired cop's right eye was swollen shut and there was a large cut from his right eye down, over his cheek almost to the corner of his mouth.
Starsky could hear the breath gurgling in his partner's throat and struggled harder to get to Hutch. The blond's struggles were weakening fast, his body giving up the unequal struggle until he hung limply from his assailant's grip.
On the floor by the side of him Starsky moaned into the concrete.
'Utch….no. Don't. No more. He's had 'nough. You'll kill 'im'.
Long seemed to come to his senses. As guard #2 wound up for another crushing blow, he held up his hand agreeing with the cop he was using as a sofa.
'That's enough' he told the two guards. 'Let go of him'.
They did, and Hutch sank to his knees, his hands braced on the floor as he bent forward, sucking in great lungfulls of air. He looked dazedly over at his partner and their eyes locked. Neither man had the breath or the strength to speak. The Warden leaned down and squeezed at Starsky's broken collarbone almost playfully. The brunet's body arched at the brutal touch and he groaned low in his throat.
'You sure you're not gonna tell us who else you told?' Long asked.
There was silence, neither cop dignifying him with an answer. Long got up from the floor and looked at the two panting dishevelled guards.
'Call an exercise break. Then take 'em outside, give 'em a weapon and let the sentry shoot 'em. We can't have prisoners fighting each other. It aint good for discipline'.
