I started writing this story back in August and am just now getting around to posting the first chapter. I am still in the process of writing it, but I will try to keep the updates somewhat regular. As usual, reviews are appreciated! Enjoy!
Hailstorm
Hutch had to get there. If he didn't, then Detective Todd Chandler was as good as dead. He had to let Starsky know that Chandler's cover was about to be blown. Word had come in from Huggy that one of the bad guys, Howard Gregory, had gone to the academy the same year as Chandler. Gregory had dropped out a few weeks in, but it was possible he would still recognize Chandler. Now, Gregory was a player in the drug deal of the decade. No one had counted on Gregory's presence. They knew there was a buyer, but no one could have expected it would be a police academy dropout. Much less one who could identify Chandler as a cop.
When word hit the street that Gregory was the buyer, the whole three-month set-up was in danger of collapsing. Chandler was in deep with the sellers. It hadn't been easy to work his way up to the top of the Gonzalez organization. Now, they trusted him enough to assign him the big sale. What he didn't know, however, was that he was going to be selling to Gregory. Starsky was Chandler's contact, also undercover himself. Starsky had established a cover as a bartender at a seedy roadside joint on the outskirts of the city where Gonzalez's employees hung out. Hutch was posing as a biker who did occasional runs for Gonzalez when his usual men were busy. He had been frequenting the establishment for weeks and had managed to not only get a few jobs, but also a few key pieces of information. Not being an "official" member of Gonzalez's organization, it wasn't suspicious for him to disappear occasionally. Whenever he did, he was usually delivering information back to headquarters.
He had just returned from doing just that when the call from Huggy came through. Huggy never called Dobey directly unless it was life and death. Hutch sat in Dobey's office, listening to his captain's side of the phone call. As soon as he hung up and began to explain what Huggy had said, Hutch was already on his feet.
"Captain, I have to go warn Starsky!"
"I'll get someone to call the bar," Dobey said as he started dialing.
"No use! The phone is busted! Some drunks ripped the cord out of the wall in a brawl last night, won't get fixed until tomorrow."
"What about the hotel Starsky's been living out of? Could we get a hold of him there?" Dobey questioned. Hutch shook his head and began to pace.
"No, he went into work hours ago. I have to go in person! Starsky's the only one who can warn Chandler!" He hoped his captain could sense the urgency. "I'm not supposed to know someone as high up in the operation as Chandler. So, I must tell Starsky so he can pass it on to Chandler. The bartender talking to a regular looks better for all of our covers," Hutch explained.
"Then you'd better get moving. Get the message to Starsky before Chandler leaves for the buy! We can't lose an officer! Go!" Dobey commanded as Hutch ran out the door and down to the garage.
He hopped on his motorcycle and cursed as he realized he'd left his jacket and helmet upstairs in the squad room. He glanced at the clock and started the bike. No time to go back up to grab 'em. I'll have to make do, he thought as he put his sunglasses on. He pulled out of the garage and sped out of town. He usually wouldn't have preferred traveling by motorcycle, but the ability to weave through the rush hour traffic was something he was more than grateful for. He could feel a chill in the air as he looked up at the dark clouds overhead. Why did I not remember my jacket? he lamented as the rain began to fall. Who am I kidding? So, what if I get wet? Chandler's going to be a lot worse off if I don't get there! He tried to ignore the rain as he continued his way. He decided to turn off onto a back road instead of the interstate. Ordinarily, the interstate was faster due to a higher speed limit, but the back road shaved off a few miles. Besides, Hutch couldn't afford to follow the speed limits. A man's life was at stake. The wind was picking up and Hutch struggled to keep the handlebars from turning. He heard thunder. Why today? Of all the days for a thunderstorm, why now? He focused on keeping the bike upright as he fought against the wind. He was only about ten more miles from the bar. Ten miles away from Starsky. Ten miles away from preventing the death of a fellow officer and friend.
The driving rain had now soaked his thin t-shirt and old, worn-out jeans. He strained to see the road through the downpour. Come on, Hutchinson! Just get there! Get there! Hutch wiped at the lenses of his sunglasses as he tried desperately to clear the water droplets that were obscuring his vision even further. He pushed the bike as fast as it would go. It was dangerous, especially with the slick roads, but he didn't have a choice. Could this situation get any worse? That's when the hail started. It was small at first, but quickly grew from pea size to golf ball sized in a matter of minutes. Hutch cursed as a hailstone hit him squarely in the head. I wasn't serious about it getting worse! He slowed the motorcycle a bit to avoid skidding on the ice chunks now covering the road. He could feel his entire body being pelted by hail. He knew he would have bruises tomorrow, but that was least of his worries. There were still four miles to go, and the storm seemed to be getting worse.
Just then, lightning struck a tree by the roadside, splitting it in two. It made a cracking sound unlike anything Hutch had ever heard. He swerved to avoid the fallen branch. He barely missed it and struggled to stay on the bike. That was too close! He took a deep breath as a huge clap of thunder erupted. Ignore it. Just do what you have to. The hail continued to beat down on him relentlessly. It hurt, but he wouldn't allow himself to think about that. Chandler's wife is expecting, and that baby's gonna need a father! Come on, Hutchinson! He thought about how tragic it would be if he didn't do this. If he dared to stop. He sped up again, willing the motorcycle to go faster.
His gaze left the road for a split second when a large hailstone hit his left shoulder. Hutch winced and closed his eyes. When he opened them, there wasn't enough time to slow down before the fast-approaching turn. He was horrified as he felt the wheels skid under him. Before he knew it, he was flying through the air.
He hit the road hard and slid across the pavement into the ditch. He could feel the flesh being torn from his body. He screamed in pain and forced himself not to pass out. Stay awake! You have to stay awake! he commanded himself. His whole left side felt as if it was on fire. He took a second to lie there, checking himself for major injuries. Warm blood was flowing from somewhere on his side, but it hurt too much to tell where it was coming from. His head had hit the concrete and was now throbbing terribly. He grabbed a nearby plant and yelped, discovering that it was an extra thorny rosebush. Looking around for a better option, he realized there was none. He ignored the thorns digging into his hand as he used the bush to pull himself into a sitting position. It took every ounce of willpower he had not to lay back down. At least I can sit. And I'm awake. That's something. Now the hard part. Standing up. He forced himself to his feet, only to collapse immediately. My foot! It's gotta be broken...He sucked in a deep breath and gathered all the determination he could muster. I. Will. Not….Stop! Not now! He gritted his teeth as he once again put weight on his hurt foot. He half walked, half stumbled back to the road.
He spotted his bike lying on the other side of the road, the back wheel partially in the ditch. It looked mostly intact. Thank God for small mercies! Now if I can just get it upright...He reached out to grab the handlebars. Then, a huge hailstone struck him on the arm. He screamed as he felt the bone snap. The sound of his arm snapping was almost enough to make him want to lie down and be sick. He somehow managed to run back under the cover of the trees. The hail continued. It had grown even larger. It was now the size of baseballs. Hutch had never seen anything like it. He'd read somewhere that large hail could break bones, but he'd doubted it would ever be relevant information. He never dreamed he'd feel the impact of such incredible velocity.
He cradled his broken arm as he huddled against a tree, waiting out the hail. It would be stupid to try to keep going in this. It had broken his arm in one hit, and he wasn't keen to find out what it could do to his head. Stop hailing, already! Please! He wished he had remembered his helmet. He was exhausted, frightened, cold, wet, and frustrated beyond what he thought possible. Chandler needs me! I need to get to Starsky! Hutch sat there, praying for a miracle. Please, God. Make it stop! Please! I'm begging you. I'll do anything, just make it stop so I can get to them! He tried to block out the sounds the hail made as it pounded the trees overhead, snapping and cracking branch after branch. Eventually, the noise was less frequent. It finally stopped. The hail had quit! He could travel again. He hoped there was still time. He guessed he was probably only about three miles from the bar.
Hutch dragged himself over to the bike and grabbed the handlebars once again. It was pure adrenaline that allowed him to pull it to a riding position without dropping it. That certainly didn't help my arm! he thought miserably as he mounted his ride. He started it up and took off. Please don't be too late! He had no idea what time it was. It was still raining, and the sun was hidden by the dark clouds. It had seemed like ages before the hail had ceased, but in reality, it was probably minutes. Gotta get there. Can't fall asleep...but...tired. So tired. He leaned forward, putting the weight from his upper body onto the bike. No! Do not give up! Not now! You're almost there! You'll deliver this message and save Chandler's life...even if it's the last thing you do.
The bar finally came into view. Starsky's undercover car was in the parking lot. Hutch wanted to rejoice, but he wasn't there yet. Just a bit further. You got this, Hutchinson! Don't let the pain stop you! He brought the bike to a skidding halt behind the building. He allowed it to fall to the pavement, not bothering with the mangled kickstand. He stumbled to the back door and practically fell against it. He raised his good arm to knock. Please, Starsk...please. Open up!
Meanwhile, inside the bar, Starsky was returning a tray of dirty dishes to the kitchen when he heard a knock on the door.
"Are we expecting a delivery, Kevin?" Starsky asked the dishwasher kid. Kevin was the only other employee today besides Starsky.
"Not that the boss mentioned. Want me to answer it?"
"No! Anyone that comes to the back door of a place in a storm like this is probably trouble." Starsky almost dismissed the knock, but his brain had other ideas. Unless...no. It would be way too risky for HQ. They wouldn't, but I haven't seen Chandler yet this evening... If he wanted to talk without the others seeing him, he might risk the back. He heard another knock. Kevin looked nervously towards the door.
"Umm...sounds like they really want in," Kevin observed.
"Tell ya what kid, go watch the register for a second. I'll see who it is and come get ya after." He tried to keep his tone light as to not frighten the kid anymore. Kevin was just a teenage dishwasher after all. He wasn't part of the drug ring or this undercover operation. Kevin nodded and obeyed, heading to the front.
Starsky checked to make sure he was gone, then pulled his gun. He slowly unlocked the door, hoping he was wrong about trouble on the other side. He pulled it open slowly to find Hutch kneeling on the pavement, a hand propping him up against the door frame.
"Hutch!" Starsky exclaimed as Hutch fell at his feet. Starsky gasped, examining the state his partner was in. He looks like death! Is that blood? What's he doing here? Starsky's brain was working overtime to come up with a logical explanation.
"Starsk." Hutch gasped for breath as he spoke. Starsky grabbed Hutch under the arms and tried to pull him inside. Hutch protested with a small yelp.
"Did I do somethin'?" Starsky hated the thought he might have hurt Hutch further. He looked like he had experienced more than enough pain already. Poor Hutch, he looks awful!
"My arm...it's...broken." He winced. Starsky tried again to pull him inside, this time being more conscious of Hutch's injuries. Hutch groaned, but allowed it this time. Starsky managed to get him leaning against the cabinets in a sitting position.
"Sorry, buddy. Now, what happened?" Starsky was desperate to know who or what had done this to his partner.
"Chandler! Where's Chandler?" Hutch asked, grabbing Starsky's arm.
"I don't know, not here. Why are you?"
"Chandler- he's in t-trouble!" Hutch stuttered, frustrated at his inability to form a coherent sentence. Starsky grabbed his face and looked him in the eyes.
"Hey. Hey, look at me. Slow down. What's going on? What about Chandler?" Hutch's breathing was shallow. Too shallow, Starsky observed.
"The buyer is Gregory. Howard Gregory. He can pin Chandler as a cop. They'll kill him!" Hutch explained, struggling to get the words out. Starsky frowned as the situation began to take shape in his mind.
"He said he'd stop by before the buy, but I haven't seen him yet. He should be here though. Unless that storm prevented him..."
"What if he went straight there?" Hutch asked in horror.
"Don't! Don't say that! He'll be here!" Starsky could not, would not think that way. He looked towards the door to the main part of the bar.
"Go! Check," Hutch commanded, clutching his side in pain. Starsky reluctantly got up and started toward the door. Kevin entered then.
"Mike, somebody out there wants a dri-" Kevin stopped short when he saw Hutch in a heap on the floor. Starsky quickly went over to the kid and grabbed him by shoulders.
"Look, Kevin. I don't know how to tell ya this, but my name ain't Mike. It's Dave and I'm an undercover policeman. This here's my partner. Now, is Travis out there?" He pulled his badge out and showed it to the shaking teenager.
"Travis? The guy with the hat? I think he just came in." Starsky released the young man and motioned to Hutch.
"Watch him for me, okay? Keep 'em awake. I need to talk to Chand-uh...Travis," he ordered as he hurriedly made his way to the door. Kevin was confused and shocked. He stared at the injured man on the floor and wondered how this had happened. He'd never thought a temporary job as a dishwasher would lead to this!
"Is Chandler here?" Hutch asked, trying to sit up more. Kevin sat down next to him.
"Chandler?"
"Travis. Travis is Chandler. Chandler's a cop too," Hutch explained between gasping breaths.
"Yeah, like I told Mike- or Dave, he just came in." Hutch looked relieved. Kevin was still insanely confused, but he felt better knowing they were cops.
"Good." I did it! I made it in time...He let his head fall back onto the cabinets. Exhausted...need to sleep...sleep. He could feel himself starting to drift off when Kevin shook him by his good arm's shoulder. He wanted to smack the kid's hands away from him and give in to the demand for rest. Can't...not yet. Have to know for sure. Have to know if Chandler's safe. He reminded himself. Starsky came back then, a worried look on his face.
"We have a problem, Hutch."
"He's not here?" Hutch questioned as he fought to stay conscious.
"No, he's here. I just can't get him alone. Gonzalez's whole crew is out there and feelin' social."
"Spill a drink on him and meet him in the bathroom." The plan came to Hutch despite his weakened state.
"If I do that and follow him to the john it'll look weird," Starsky pointed out. Hutch looks worse than when he got here. He needs first aid!
"Make the kid do the spilling," Hutch offered as he coughed. Starsky didn't miss the blood at the corners of Hutch's mouth. He cringed at the sight.
"Think you're up for that, Kevin?" Starsky asked. Kevin nodded.
"I think so. I just spill a drink on him?" Kevin reiterated.
"Yep, that's it. I'll be in the john waiting for him. After you apologize, get back here as fast as you can. Make sure Hutch stays awake." Starsky looked sadly at his best friend and left the room once more. It killed him to have to leave Hutch like this, but he had to warn Chandler.
Hutch was alone in the kitchen. He hoped Kevin and Starsky could pull this off. He wished he could help, but his battered body had other plans. He could barely move, much less walk, spill a drink, or even stand. Starsky, please tell him! He could hear a muffled shatter of glass and Kevin apologizing profusely. He heard Chandler curse, in keeping with his undercover personality. Chandler! I really did make it!
Starsky paced the floor of the bathroom. He was trying to work out how he was going to play this. Ideally, he wanted all three of them to leave with their covers intact. Kevin knew they were undercover, but he didn't seem to be a threat. What am I gonna do? What excuse can Chandler give to get out of this? What's taking that kid so long to spill a drink? Then, as if in answer to his question, the door opened. Chandler entered, scanning the room for anyone other than Starsky.
"What's going on, Starsky?" Chandler whispered.
"The buyer is Howard Gregory."
"You're kidding! The dropout? Of all the rotten luck! How'd you find out?"
"Hutch showed up."
"Hutch? He was supposed to have lef-"
"Look, we don't have a lot of time here! Can you get out of the buy without blowing your cover?" I can't talk about Hutch right now. One problem at a time!
"I could say I got sick or something. Might lose me some gold stars with Gonzalez, but I think I can make it convincing enough he won't suspect anything."
"Good, do it! You know where the closest working phone is?" Hutch needs a hospital! Maybe an ambulance.
"Up the road about three miles east at the gas station. That all? I should get back out there."
"Good luck, buddy. Just split if you have to, but don't go to that buy tonight." Starsky didn't doubt that if there was a way to get out of the buy and preserve his cover, Chandler would find it. If not, he knew Chandler wouldn't compromise his life for the sake of his cover. The man had too much to live for and a good head on his shoulders.
Starsky returned to the kitchen to find Hutch right where he had left him. Kevin was worriedly offering him some water. Starsky gestured for Kevin to step aside. He sat down and took a minute to fully look Hutch over. He was drenched and shivering. His whole left side was a bloody mess and he couldn't tell where it was all coming from. Hutch's breathing was still labored, despite having sat still for several minutes.
"Kevin, go watch the bar. If anyone asks, serve them. I need to get him to a hospital." Kevin did as he was told. "Hey, buddy. I'm here. Chandler knows. It's good, okay?" He took Hutch's hand and squeezed it. Hutch returned it weakly.
"Starsky..."
"Shh! Don't talk, just rest and listen, blondie. We gotta get ya outta here."
"Wanna...sleep." Hutch's head fell to the side. Starsky caught it rested it on his shoulder. He could feel the water from Hutch's hair soaking his shirt. Starsky wrapped his arms around him, careful not to touch his wounds.
"No, don't do that. We gotta get ya to my car." Hutch groaned in response. I'm losing him! Can't let him sleep! "I need to you talk to me. Please Hutch. Try your hardest!"
"Fine," Hutch coughed again, the force shaking his entire body and sending waves of pain cascading over him. He winced and continued, "What about?"
"Anything, just keep talking. Philly bust her!" Please don't give up on me, buddy!
"Filibuster, Starsky… It's called a filibuster." Starsky smiled at the correction.
"Nice to know you didn't break your attitude. Now come on, you big lummox. Time to stand up!"
"Don't think I can."
"Nonsense. I'll help you. On three! One, two, three!" Starsky dragged Hutch to his feet and put his good arm securely around his shoulders. Hutch cried out and Starsky muffled it with his hand. "Hush! Sorry, can't let those guys out there hear you." He felt Hutch inhale, then nod. He removed his hand and opened the back door.
"Could you have parked any further away?" Hutch grumbled when he saw Starsky's undercover car on the other side of six empty parking spots.
"Wanna sit while I pull it up closer?"
"No, I'm already on my feet. I can't handle standing up. Not again."
"Then we gotta walk. Come on, partner." Starsky tried his best to take as much of Hutch's weight as he possibly could. Hutch did his best to not collapse. They managed to clear the distance and Starsky tried to make Hutch comfortable in the passenger seat.
A few minutes later, Starsky parked outside of the gas station and ran inside. He hated leaving Hutch alone, but he had to get his friend some help. He made the call while Hutch waited in the car. Hutch watched Starsky exit the building. He could tell something wasn't right. Starsky got in and looked at Hutch, feeling defeated.
"Starsk, what's...what's wrong?"
"Ambulance can't come, the roads are too messed up from this crazy storm! They're blocked in the city!" He hit the steering wheel in frustration. Why? He desperately needs first aid! He's likely bleeding out over there and there's not a thing I can do about it!
"Starsky, drive." Starsky looked over at him. His eyes were closed, his head leaning against the window. "Please. Just...drive." He sounded like he had given up, as if the effort of the words were too much for him. Starsky obeyed. He knew he was now Hutch's only hope for getting to a hospital in time.
The storm had let up considerably. It was just barely sprinkling. They rode in silence for a while, Starsky concentrating on avoiding the various debris littering the road. Hutch focused on trying to breathe normally. They were almost back to the city when Starsky realized he couldn't hear Hutch's breathing anymore. He looked over at his patient, the feeling of dread creeping in.
"Hutch? You good over there?" Nothing. No! No,no,no,no! Hutch! He reached over and found Hutch's hand. He couldn't do what he needed while driving. He pulled over to the shoulder and stopped the car. He pressed his fingers on Hutch's wrist, desperately searching for a pulse. He found one. It was faint, but it was there! "Come on, talk to me! Babe, please!" he begged. Nothing. NO! Not now! Not like this! "Hutch...babe...please!" he yelled. Tears rolled down his cheeks. "We're so close, Hutch! Please! Don't do this!..I need you." he whispered. He threw his arms around his unconscious partner and held him tight. If this really was it, Starsky didn't want Hutch to feel alone. Part of him wanted to keep driving, but he couldn't bring himself to break the embrace. "Hutch..."
"Hmm?" Starsky pulled back and looked at Hutch's face, convinced he was hearing things. It was only when he saw two small slivers of blue that he was sure it was real. Hutch snuggled deeper into Starsky's chest. A sob caught in Starsky's throat.
"We're almost there. Think ya can stay awake for me?" He felt Hutch nod. He carefully let him go and shifted back into a driving position. Hutch pulled his legs up onto the bench seat and curled up in a ball, his head resting on Starsky's thigh. Starsky dropped one hand to Hutch's forehead as he drove. He left it there until they pulled up to the emergency bay at the hospital.