Chapter 25

Hutch opened his eyes and stared up at the ceiling of his small bedroom. Well, it was more of a cell than a bedroom, he thought wryly. There was a lock on the door, a small window, decorated with homely chintz curtains that barely disguised the thick iron bars outside, and a utilitarian cold tiled floor. The bed was small, but comfortable enough and in the past 48 hours he's had the privilege of sleeping in it for more than 3 hours at a stretch. Up until then, Bob Tyler had insisted that he sleep for only short periods and the incessant questioning had gone from irritating, through annoying, to a mere blur of sound that he answered almost reflexively.

The same questions, over and again – Who are your friends, who do you trust and when were you happiest?

Bob had never seemed happy with the answers, always smiling that calm, enigmatic smile until Hutch felt he wanted to knock it from the cheerful psychiatrist's face. At first, the blond cop had resisted the questioning, then he'd tried to go along with it and then he'd got downright angry because nothing he seemed to say satisfied his inquisitor. Towards the end, he'd exploded into righteous rage.

'I don't know what you want of me. You ask me the same thing over and over and yet nothing satisfied you. If I answer truthfully you ask again. If I don't answer at all, you ask again. And if I show a glimmer of original thought, you whack me up with more drugs and ask again. What am I supposed to do? You tell me.'

'I want you to be clear about your answers Hutch. I want you to remember the truth.'

'And that is?' the blond had yelled.

Tyler smiled calmly again. 'Surely that's for you to say. Just relax. Don't think, and let your instincts answer for you. Who is your best friend? Don't think, just say the name of the first person who comes into your head.'

'Starsky' Hutch snapped and then clamped his mouth closed. Why had he said that? Was it the truth? Had everything Sal had told him been a lie? Surely not! Milano had helped him. Sal had been kind to him and had given him food and water when the Cougars had had him. Sal had told him that Starsky wasn't his friend and that was the truth, wasn't it? Visions of Starsky's face came to him, laughing, joking, the blue eyes twinkling with mirth. The face morphed into Sal's, bald head complete with golden tooth looking up at him. Who was right? Who was telling him the truth?

Bob knelt by the side of Hutch and put his hand on the blond's shoulder. 'You can rest now Hutch' he said gently. 'We've done enough for today. I think we've made progress.'

The flaxen haired cop had been so exhausted at that point that he'd have said anything to get some rest. The fact he'd said "Starsky" left him shaken, his emotions a maelstrom of confusion, but the one thing he knew for sure was that he didn't mean it – did he?

That was two days ago. Since then, Hutch had been allowed more rest, although the sessions were all the same and now even more intense. He'd given Starsky's name once, but it was a reflex. He felt no emotion when he said the name other than a deep loathing, but try as he might, he couldn't now bring himself to say that Sal was his friend either. Now there was a conflict on that score too. Hutch felt that Milano was now as much to blame for his predicament and incarceration as his brunet partner was. If it hadn't been for meeting Salvador Milano, he would never have been sent to this hell hole that was laughingly called a hospital.

The blond felt more alone than he had ever done. Now he could not say that Starsky was his friend, but neither could he admit that Sal was either. He was adrift…..lonely and friendless on the ocean of his life and for the first time ever, ken Hutchinson felt sorry for himself.

There was a knock on the door of his room and he ignored it. The knock was usually a prelude to a new round of washing, dressing, eating and questioning and Hutch was heartily sick of the whole thing. He ignored the knock, turned over so that he faced the wall and pulled the blanket up around his ears. The knock sounded again, a little louder.

Hutch stilled his beating heart. Go away…..go away…..go away and leave me alone!

A final knock and then he heard the rattle of a key in the lock. Jeez, didn't privacy mean anything to these flakes? Angrily, he rolled onto his back, prepared to give the orderly a mouthful of abuse, but the words froze on his lips as Bob Tyler appeared at the door. Hutch looked at him questioningly.

'You making house calls now? Can't bear to leave me alone?'

'I need you to come with me. There's a visitor for you. I've told him this is all too soon, but um……things have taken a turn for the worst.'

The blond sat up on the bed. 'For the worst? What's happened?' Is someone hurt?'

Tyler indicated the hallway. 'Get dressed. I'll see you outside, soon as you can.'

Hutch climbed into the white scrubs that had been his uniform for the duration of his stay at the base. He rapidly finger combed his hair into place and opened the door, feeling an absurd sense of freedom at being able to open it and step outside without an escort. He looked up and down the corridor and spotted Tyler leaning on a window ledge looking out at the grounds of the base.

The shrink looked up and smiled. 'Come with me' he said quietly and walked off down the corridor towards the small interview rooms at the end. He opened a door, standing back to let Hutch through, followed the blond into the room and closed the door behind him. Traff stood up quickly and turned to face the cop.

'Traff!' Hutch said, with genuine affection in his voice. 'Have I been a good boy? I get visiting rights now?'

'Starsky's missing' Traff said without pause.

Hutch's heart lurched, but he held himself in check, unable to reason why he felt anxious. 'So?' he asked carefully.

Traff's eyes looked over Hutch's shoulder to the psychiatrist standing behind the blond. Tyler shrugged. 'I told you this was too early. Hutch still has a lot of recovery to go through.'

Traff sighed. 'Unfortunately, this won't wait for Blondie here to get his head back together. Hutch, will you help?' the soldier asked.

'Why me?'

'Because you are Starsky's partner and whether you believe it right now or not, you were also his best friend.'

'If you say so' the blond said in an emotionless tone.

'Look, I don't have time to try to persuade you otherwise' Traff snapped. 'Do you admit you're still a cop?'

Hutch nodded. 'Of course.'

'Then act like a cop! Stop asking irrelevant questions. There's someone in trouble and they need your help. You can sort out your feelings for Starsky later, right now, he needs a cop.'

'Can't someone…..?'

'Sal Milano has taken him' Traff announced, stopping the blond dead.

For a moment, Hutch considered. The two men who'd fucked his life up royally, under one roof and both available for retribution. He had the chance for a twofer and that was neat.

'When did he go missing?' he asked quietly.

'You'll help?' Traff answered one question with another.

The blond sat down on the chair in the small room. 'Give me the details' he said.

For the next quarter of an hour, the soldier outlined the facts of Dobey's "accident", of how Starsky had been while Hutch had been in the hospital and of the brunet's disappearance. The blond took it all in without saying a word. He concentrated on the facts, behaving like a cop, rather than the partner of someone who had just been kidnapped, and probably tortured. Hutch was cool, outwardly calm and after Traff had finished, clarified one or two salient points. At the end, he stood up and looked at Bob Tyler.

'I'm gonna need some outdoor clothes. I can't very well go in all guns blazing wearing scrubs.'

'We can organise the clothes, but as for weapons….. are you sure you…..?'

'Doc, I know you think I'm still crazy, but it seems I'm the only guy for this job and if I'm gonna go back into the Cougar's lair so to speak, I'm not gonna go unarmed.'

'And you aren't going on your own either' Traff said, standing up himself.

'I can do this…. or don't you trust me?'

'I trust you, chief. I just don't trust Sal Milano. You need backup and I'm it.'

'There's nothing wrong with Sal. He's….' Hutch saw the look of warning in Tyler's eyes and shut up quickly. 'I appreciate the thought buddy, but you aren't exactly known to Sal and the factory is so closely guarded that you'd never get in there. The only way I'm gonna get in is by brazening it out and driving in through the gates.'

'What if that's what Sal wants?'

Hutch shrugged. 'Won't know till I get there, will I?'

'At least let me drive you there. If you need backup I'll be just outside. I promise I won't get in the way unless you shout for help' Traff said. 'Apart from that, Doc Tyler here would never forgive me if something happened to his prize patient after all the work he's put in on you.'

Hutch grunted. 'Clothes?' he asked again.

'I have some back at my place. Now you're sure about this?'

The blond cop straightened his shoulders. Ready? It couldn't be more perfect! A legitimate chance to get both Starsky and Sal together. After that, he'd make his final decision as to who was indeed his friend – if indeed either of them were. And for the one who had messed with his head the most? Well they'd agreed to give him a gun, hadn't they?'

Hutch followed Traff obediently back across the grounds of the base to the soldier's house. Going inside, the blond cop waited in the living room while Traff routed out some clothes from his wardrobe. He looked around the plainly furnished room and saw, on the coffee table a camera. Hutch picked it up and as he lifted it to his face to look through the viewfinder. Immediately, he paused, a whiff of Starsky's familiar aftershave assaulting his nostrils.

The memorable perfume had an uncomfortable effect.

For a moment, Hutch was transported back to the brunet's apartment. He was washed out, exhausted. He felt as though he'd been kicked into the middle of next week by a mule and he was sweating. The curly haired man handed him a drink of sickly sweet cola.

'It'll make you feel better.'

'Another fix would make me feel better. I can't do this Starsk.'

'It's only been 10 days Blintz. It'll take a helluva lot longer than that to get over it.'

That's supposed to make me feel better? I thought your were my friend.'

'I am, you know that.'

'Then fuckin' well act like one. I'm hurting and you won't do nothin'.'

'I'll stand by you and I'll sponge you down when you're hurtin' and I'll sit here and take all the abuse you want to throw at me, but I'm not gonna shoot you up again. Some things are above and beyond, buddy.'

Two faced bastard. It was Starsky who'd got him hooked. Sal had told him that. Dammit! Hutch put the camera down in a hurry as Traff walked back into the room.

'I've put you some pants and a sweat shirt out on the bed. Get changed and we can be out of here in half an hour. Hutch? Buddy? Are you ok?'

The blond shook himself mentally. Concentrate Hutchinson! One step at a time. Just get to the factory. After that, you can do what the hell you like.