Thanks everyone!

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Chapter 14

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Starsky walked into the Sunset Pawn Shop on Dell Avenue with Hutch right behind him. Jeff was parked just a half block away. He had strict instructions to call for back up if they didn't return in five minutes. Both men strolled casually toward the front counter, but not before passing aisles full of various tools, electronics, and other whatnots. Off to the right, a young couple was checking out some record players on a shelf, while the guy manning the cash register was thumbing through a hot rod magazine.

After a quick glance over his shoulder at Hutch, Starsky stepped up to the counter and gave the employee a thorough look. He didn't really fit the description of a 'Freddy.' Standing about 5'7", he appeared to be in his mid twenties, with long, dirty-blond hair pulled back in a pony tail. His hollowed cheeks and narrow face matched the slim build, largely hidden by a long sleeved flannel shirt and a pair of faded blue jeans. Starsky figured he wouldn't have any trouble wiping the counter with the guy if he had to.

"Can I help you?" Ponytail asked.

Starsky leaned forward and placed a hand on the wooden surface. "Does a 'Freddy' work here?"

"Who's asking?"

"You always answer a question with a question?" Starsky fired back.

The employee chuckled. "I could ask you the same thing," he said.

Starsky glanced at Hutch. His partner had to be thinking the same thing—wise ass. Keeping his cool, Starsky smiled politely. "We got something we think Fred would be interested in, if that would be you."

"Don't know any 'Fred.' Now, if there's nothing else, I'm kinda busy here…"

Holding the smile on his face, Starsky turned to Hutch. In a fraction of a second, Hutch reached over the counter and grabbed the employee's ponytail. As his head hit the counter, the guy yelped out in pain.

"Now look, you dirt bag," Hutch growled in his ear. "You've got two choices. Either I start using your head to mop up the floor, or you tell us where to find Freddy."

"Alright! Alright!" he cried. "I'm Freddy, okay?"

The young couple who had been shopping now stared at Starsky and Hutch like two wide-eyed squirrels. Starsky tapped Hutch's shoulder and nodded at their audience. With his free hand, Hutch took out his wallet and flashed his badge at them. "Store's closed," he said firmly. "Come back tomorrow."

After the two made a hasty exit, Hutch stuck his wallet back in his pants and lifted Freddy's head off the counter.

"Shit! You guys are cops?"

"I hear you got a message for me," Starsky said.

"Yeah, that so?"

Hutch thumped the kid's head back down on the counter.

"Ow!" Freddy yelled.

Starsky leaned in closer, getting face to face with the man.

"This ain't playschool, pizza breath. You either start spillin', or we're gonna haul your scrawny ass downtown and charge you with first degree murder, kidnapping—"

"What? I didn't do nothin', I swear!" he cried as Hutch twisted the ponytail tighter. "Ow! Fuck, man! Listen to me, will ya?"

Starsky looked at his partner with a smirk and Hutch let go of the guy's hair.

"Start talkin'," Starsky urged.

Freddy straightened up. He gently ran a hand along the side of his head, apparently nursing a sore spot. "Look, here's all I know," he said, staring at Starsky. "Some guy comes in here the other day, flashing hundred dollar bills in front of my face like it was Christmas. Told me he needed a favor."

"You ever seen this Santa Claus before?" Hutch asked.

"Huh? Oh, no. I never seen him before."

"What'd he look like?"

Freddy shrugged his shoulders at Starsky's question. "I don't know. He looked like a regular guy—ow!"

Hutch pulled back his hand after slapping Freddy's head. "Answer my partner's question! Was he tall, fat, bald?"

"Tall, I guess. Kinda big."

"Big? How?"

"Big, you know." Freddy flexed his arms by his sides. "Like he had some muscle. Come to think of it, guy didn't have much of a neck."

"He have black hair, slicked back?" Starsky swallowed quickly to keep his voice from cracking.

"Yeah. He wasn't exactly dressed in rags, either. Had on some pretty expensive threads."

"So what's the favor he wanted?" Hutch cut in.

"Gave me this envelope," Freddy said, pulling one out from under the register. "Told me some punk would be coming by to pick it up." Starsky eyed the letter with his name written on it as Freddy handed it to Hutch. "Guess you're Starsky."

A pathetic look appeared on Hutch's face as he grabbed the envelope. "I'm Hutch," he said hotly, "he's Starsky." Holding on to the letter, Hutch asked Freddy, "Can you identify this guy if you saw him again?"

"Pretty sure…am I gonna have to? I mean, this is my uncle's shop. He doesn't like cops, and he's in Florida right now…family business—"

"Just don't disappear," Starsky warned him. "Trust me, you don't want us comin' after you."

Leaving Freddy standing dumbstruck behind the register, Starsky stormed after Hutch as he headed out the front door. His partner didn't stop until they got back to the Dodge. Hutch motioned for Jeff to step out of the car and join them.

"You gonna let me read my letter?" Starsky asked, nodding at the document.

"Only on one condition…that you don't keep us in the dark."

Starsky stared at Hutch, looking for some crack to reveal itself in the blond's unwavering attitude. But the icy blue gaze that met his didn't show any sign of weakening.

"Deal," Starsky agreed.

Before Hutch had a chance to change his mind, Starsky snatched the letter from his hand and tore it open. Inside was a small page out of a notepad folded in half. Taking a deep breath, Starsky slipped it out and began to read.

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"Are we having fun yet, cop? Since you can't figure out anything on your own, I'm making this easy for you. I did it you prick. That stupid bitch sister of yours, she fucked me so I fucked her. I really wanted to kill her, like that other slut at the clinic. That's my specialty, you know. But I got your attention, didn't I? See, unlike you, I'M GOOD at what I do! So, come get me you shit. Let's settle this once and for all. 555-2339."

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Starsky folded the note back up. He just wanted to tear it into little pieces, like the author. But he couldn't—at least not with Hutch standing right there. Reluctantly, Starsky slapped the piece of paper against Hutch's stomach and walked to the trunk of the car, leaving his partner and Jeff to read the note themselves.

"That's one sick dude," Starsky heard Jeff mutter a few moments later.

"Yeah," Hutch agreed, "You should see him in person." He went over to join Starsky. "I don't like this, partner. He's being way too cocky, like he's got nothing to lose."

Starsky leaned back on the trunk. He crossed his arms and stared down the street, wishing he could fly off to another time and place. Somewhere nice and peaceful; where people got to live their lives without lunatics running around wreaking havoc and killing innocent victims. Maybe a place like that didn't exist, except at Disney World, but he really needed a yearly park pass right now. A twinge of chest pain quickly wiped those thoughts away. Starsky looked into Hutch's worried eyes, and saw his own fear mirrored in them.

"I dunno, Hutch. He's not going to stop until he's six foot under. An' maybe that's what he wants…to go down and take me with him."

"Well, that sure as hell ain't gonna happen, at least not while I'm breathing."

Starsky wanted to smile at Hutch's concern, but the gravity of his situation wouldn't let him.

"So, what's the plan?"

Starsky had to force those words out. Every fiber of his being was telling him to take off and settle this feud on his own. Hutch, Bree, even Jeff—they weren't a part of this, only innocent bystanders in the path of a runaway train.

"Suko wants to meet you, alone. We'll just make sure things don't go according to his plan."

Starsky had to smirk. "You really think he's dumb enough to think I'd go by myself?"

"I don't know what that asshole thinks, Starsky! Maybe he wants both of us, maybe he just gets off on hurting you and anybody else he can find." Hutch huffed loudly and shook his head. "But here's what I do know, partner," he said, in a softer voice. "He's not getting away this time. Suko either comes out of this in handcuffs or in a hearse, and frankly I wouldn't give a damn which way that happens."

Starsky glanced at Jeff. The young detective's expression hadn't changed since getting out of the car. Starsky could almost read him as well as he could Hutch—whatever the veterans decided, he'd go along with it.

"Got your running shoes on?" Starsky asked Jeff.

"Huh?"

"Something tells me Suko ain't far from that number," Starsky said, nodding at the note in Jeff's hand. "When I call, I bet he's gonna give me all of five minutes to get there." Turning to Hutch, he added, "Guess that goes for you, too."

Hutch grinned. "We should get a wire put on you, then go get another car."

"No."

Hutch suddenly froze. "No?"

"C'mon, Hutch. Think! I'd bet my pension Freddy in there's already dropped a dime to Suko. Clock's tickin'."

Looking a bit sheepish, Hutch scanned up and down the block. "Okay, but we need a second car and then a phone."

"You always could read my mind," Starsky quipped.

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Ten minutes later, they'd arrived back in the parking lot at Memorial Hospital. Starsky hopped out of the Dodge and got into the Torino, but not without glancing up at the building to the floor where Bree's room was located. He wished there was time to go see her, to explain that whatever was bound to happen, that he'd done it for her sake. Peering at Hutch sitting beside Jeff in the car, Starsky winked.

Driving out of the lot, he headed for a payphone right across the street at a convenience store. Starsky got out of his car and pulled the note from the pawn shop out of his pocket. He stepped into the booth and dropped a dime into the coin slot. Hutch and Jeff had gotten out of the Dodge and were standing just a few feet away. Hearing the dial tone, Starsky carefully dialed each number and waited. Finally, someone answered the phone.

"This Starsky?" a man asked.

A shiver ran down Starsky's spine. No matter how much time passed, he'd never forget that voice.

"Suko?"

"Yeah, you prick, it's me. What took ya so long?"

"Traffic was a bitch."

"That so? That pretty partner of yours must have fast hands, puttin' on that wire. Did he touch you nice and special, you know, like I used to do?"

Starsky squeezed the receiver, wanting to break it in pieces as much as he wanted to Frank Suko.

"I don't gotta wire, and this isn't what you and I need to talk about," Starsky growled in a low voice, not wanting his audience to hear.

"My, my, impatient little bastard, aren't cha? Okay, Starsky. If you're in a hurry to die, I won't hold you up. Off the end of Fulton, by the pier, there's a yellow building. Come in through the back door, alone. If you're thinkin' about bringing company, don't. You've got ten minutes, asshole. And you'd better pray there isn't any holdups…or I'm gonna find me another pretty bitch to mess up."

Starsky wracked his mind for another question to ask, but it was too late. Suko had already hung up. Jamming the phone back in the holder, Starsky let out a frustrated huff.

"What'd he say?" Hutch asked, coming in closer.

"He wants to meet." Starsky straightened and stepped out of the booth. He locked eyes with Hutch, knowing what he was going to ask, hoping somehow, that he wouldn't.

"Alone, right?"

Starsky kept staring at his partner. He could tell Hutch a different location…could, but lying wasn't an option anymore.

"Fulton street, down by the pier. A yellow building."

Hutch dipped his head, apparently trying to picture the area in his mind.

"That's real close to Morgan's Welding." Hutch looked back up. "How long?"

He didn't need to look at his watch. Starsky could feel every second as it ticked away. "Nine minutes, and counting," he said.

"Damn," Hutch said softly. He'd gone from looking worried to almost complete despair. Starsky stole a glance at Jeff. He looked about the same, but with a twinge more anxiousness showing. "You can't go in there without backup—"

"Hutch, Suko said—"

"That's not what I meant," Hutch said, his voice on edge. "You need a gun."

Hutch's admission surprised Starsky. What he didn't know was that Starsky had one of his own.

"I'm good," he answered, hoping Hutch would understand.

"Starsky…" Hutch's face twisted in confusion. "How did you…where did you…"

"Look," Starsky interrupted, "we don't got time for this." Starsky avoided Hutch's gaze and looked at his feet. Hutch probably had him all figured out. After getting Huggy's message, Starsky was just going to take the law in his own hands. Fuck Hutch, fuck the law, fuck everything.

"He's right," Jeff broke in. Eying Hutch, he said, "There's got to be some way for us to get in that building, too. I mean, unless this Suko guy has got half the city on his payroll, I don't see how he can concentrate on his personal vendetta and watch out for us, too."

Starsky locked eyes with Hutch.

Kid's got a point…we can sort this all out later.

Hutch stared at him, then tossed an arm up in the air. "Fine," he mumbled, sounding very frustrated. "I just hope you know what you're doing, Starsky, 'cause I'm not in the mood to have to explain to Rachel, or Bree, what the hell happened if this doesn't all go according to your plan."

"You just watch my back like you always have…and you won't have to."

"Yeah, right...famous last words, Starsk."

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TBC