Hailstorm Chapter 7

Blood splattered Chandler's body. The echo from the shot rang through the room, followed by the thud of flesh hitting the floor. Weapons on both criminal's sides were drawn as Gonzalez cursed under his breath. All sights were on the window the shot had come from. Starsky took cover and switched his radio back on.

"Now!" he shouted into it as everyone inside began firing at the spot under the window. He heard one of Gonzalez's goons approaching the bush he was hiding behind. Starsky fired, hoping to deter his attacker. He breathed a sigh of relief when he heard him cry out. Two for two tonight, Starsky. Not too shabby, he thought as he flattened himself on the ground, army crawling away from the window. He knew bullets could tear right through the tin walls of the pole barn, so he was eager to move to more substantial cover. He was grateful as he noticed blue and red lights in the distance speeding towards the building, as well as the shadowy forms of backup officers closing in. He'd almost made it to the front corner of the building near the door when he heard someone yell something to Gonzalez about the fuzz.

Meanwhile, Gregory lay on the floor, gun still in hand. He was still alive despite a gunshot wound to the chest. Starsky's shot had found its mark. What!? What just happ- I'm alive! Chandler thought as he tried to shake the shock of what he'd just witnessed. He'd thought for sure he'd die at the hands of Howard Gregory, but Starsky had saved him. He wiped Gregory's blood from his eyes as chaos broke out. Men from both sides were shooting at the window, as well as picking fights with one another. Any trust they'd previously had in the other party was now shattered.

Chandler lunged for Gregory's gun. His fingers had barely closed around it when Gregory's right-hand man noticed him and stopped firing at the window. Chandler didn't wait for the other man to take aim. He took a shot, bringing the man down and scrambling for the window opposite Starsky's. He only made it a few steps before someone tackled him. His gun clattered to the floor as he fought to get out from under his opponent. He recognized him as Knox, one of Gonzalez's top men. He weighed nearly a hundred pounds more than Chandler and had the advantage of rage on his side.

"You're a filthy cop!" Knox yelled and swung a humongous fist at his head. Chandler brought his arms up to protect it from the brunt of the blow.

"Knox, you've got it all wrong!" Chandler screamed over the noise of the gunfire. "You know me, Knox! You know me!" He'd worked closely with Knox during his time in Gonzalez's organization. Since Chandler was at a physical disadvantage, his only hope was to play on the relationship between himself and his assailant.

"Liar!" Knox growled and whacked Chandler across the mouth. Knox had taken his hand away, giving Chandler an opportunity to gain the use of his left arm. He swung and hit Knox in the chin, surprising him and causing his grip on Chandler's right arm to loosen. He wrenched it free and shoved Knox with all his might, knocking him to the side and rolling them both so he was now on top of the larger man. He delivered a solid right to Knox's left eye, prompting a yell of pain and providing a temporary distraction.

Chandler's gaze quickly scanned the floor for the gun he'd dropped. It was just barely out of reach, to the left of his current position. He'd have to let Knox up in order to get it. I'm not eager to find out what he'll do to me if I let him, Chandler thought, evaluating his options as Knox's knee struck him hard in the tailbone. He grunted and tried not to let the pain distract him from forming a plan. He purposely took his hand off Knox's left wrist and punched him in the stomach, careful to shift his weight onto Knox's right side. Knox responded as he predicted, swinging his free arm wide to punch Chandler in the face. Chandler took the hit and didn't have to fake losing his balance. Knox's hit was more than hard enough to flip Chandler onto his back and closer to the fallen weapon. It worked! Knox climbed on top of him once again and began pummeling him viciously. Chandler attempted to protect himself, but Knox showed no signs of letting up. He got a few blows in, but Knox was obviously going to be victorious if things continued like they were. Knox's hand's found Chandler's throat, cutting off his air supply. Chandler reached blindly to his left, searching for the gun. His fingers finally wrapped around the grip. He quickly brought it up, shoved the barrel into the side of Knox's neck, and fired. Blood dripped onto Chandler's face as Knox fell to the side, making gasping sounds as he hit the floor. Chandler's scrambled away from him and dragged himself to his feet, breathing heavily. Do I hear sirens or is that too good to be true?

Outside, Starsky welcomed the other officers with a nod as they all made quick work of the handful of guards outside the barn. Dobey took out a megaphone and spoke into it, pointing it toward the building.

"BCPD! We have the building surrounded. Come out with your hands up!"

"When you want us to move in, Cap'?" Starsky asked as he approached his superior. Dobey switched off the megaphone.

"Let's see if any of them are smart enough to give it up peacefully," Dobey responded. Starsky could tell from his tone that Dobey didn't really think anyone would take that route. "How's Chandler?"

"Don't know. Gregory had a gun to his head. I shot Gregory, but after that, I had to take cover. Didn't see what happened to him, but it sounds rough in there." Starsky felt sick. Please let him be all right. He tried to shake the mental image of Chandler lying dead on the floor, surrounded by gunfire. Come on, man! Walk around the corner of the building and prove me wrong.

"Prepare to move in!" Dobey yelled into his radio. Everyone moved quickly and efficiently into position. The main door slid open a couple of feet as a young man stumbled out. He collapsed on the gravel, blood running down his leg from a wound on his upper thigh.

"Don't shoot!" he begged in a strained voice.

"Well, what do you know?" Dobey mumbled, shocked that someone had surrendered without a fight.

"I'll get him, Cap'." Starsky offered. "Cover me?" Dobey nodded and pointed his gun at the open doorway. Starsky came towards the young man, careful to scan his body for weapons. It seemed he was unarmed, but Starsky bent down and quickly frisked him anyway.

"Don't kill me! Please don't shoot!" he begged, grabbing Starsky's jacket collar.

"Let's get you behind the car over there," Starsky told him as he carefully helped the young man to his feet. How'd he get involved in this? Kid looks barely over 18. Starsky immediately shoved him back to the ground as someone shot at them from the doorway. Dobey made quick work of them before they could take a second shot. Starsky dragged him back to his feet, a bit less careful this time as he half-carried him behind the squad car and cuffed him to the door handle.

"Move in!" Dobey ordered. "And watch out for Chandler! We don't need friendly fire." Starsky ran towards the main entrance, pressing himself to one side of the doorway. He peeked around the edge just long enough to catch a glimpse of a gun pointed in his direction. He immediately dropped to his knees as a bullet whizzed over his head, then quickly spun around the doorway and returned fire. Starsky was careful to stay low as he did so. The men inside had some cover due to the boxes and crates that were stacked haphazardly around the edges of the room. It wasn't much, but it was better than what Starsky and the other cops had at the moment. At least I got a vest, Starsky thought, though it wasn't much comfort. Gotta get inside. A uniformed officer had joined him on the other side of the doorway. Starsky caught the other man's eye and pointed to the doorway and made a gun gesture, followed by holding up three fingers. He nodded at Starsky, confirming he had understood. Starsky counted down on his fingers as he watched the officer get ready to fire. Two…One! The shots sent the enemy diving for cover as Starsky slipped around the doorway and into the building. He quickly took the scene in as he found some cover behind a crate. Not only were men from both sides firing at the cops who were closing in from every window and door, but they were also fighting amongst themselves. A bear of a man Starsky had seen around the bar lay on the floor, bleeding profusely from the neck. Ouch. Wonder what happened there? Starsky took shots at the men firing out the windows, giving the officers outside a chance to get closer. He scanned the room, looking for Chandler. He'd last seen him on the floor near Gregory, but the spot was empty. Where are you, pal? His hope was beginning to dwindle. Surely he heard Dobey earlier. He's gotta know we're here. If he's still alive that is.

At the back corner of the barn, Chandler had taken cover behind a stack of feed sacks. He'd made an effort to escape out the window but was cut off and pushed into the corner by some other members of Gonzalez's organization who'd seen what he'd done to Knox. He'd thought he'd seen Starsky duck inside the main door a minute ago, but he wasn't sure. The room was hazy from gunfire and blood from a cut on his forehead ran into his eyes. If only Knox didn't hit me, he grumbled silently as he wiped at it, trying to clear his vision. He checked his gun. Three shots left. Gotta make 'em count. There was no telling how long it would be until the building was cleared and no way to know what threats he might have to face before then. Chandler risked another look and was immediately shot at by one of Gregory's people. He ducked and tried to be as still as possible. Maybe they'll think they've hit me. The sound of another bullet hitting the feed sacks dashed that hope. Guess one of my bullets has this guy's name on it, he thought as he leaned out from the side of the sacks and took a shot. He heard someone scream in pain, but he couldn't be sure it was his target. Gunshots were plentiful, and his ears ached from the noise.

Chandler checked the path to the window. Too many people. Too much space without cover, he thought with a frown. Considering his options and the two bullets he had left, he determined it would be stupid to try. He was cornered. Literally. Moving either direction wasn't wise. Guess I'll stay put. Use the last two shots if I must and wait for backup to deal with the rest. Chandler was pulled from his thoughts as a bullet ripped into the wall next to him. He quickly identified the source to his right and with careful aim took out the shooter. One shot. Don't waste it, Chandler commanded himself. If only I still had my gun... He had passed it to Knox before handing the product over. Gregory's gun didn't hold as much ammo and he'd quickly gone through what little there was. He had spare clips for his own gun in his pocket, but they were incompatible with his current weapon.

"Behind the feed sacks!" someone yelled. Judging from the semi-automatic spray of fire his way, Chandler inferred that whoever had said it wasn't his friend. Somebody take him out already! Chandler flattened himself even further onto the floor and prayed these wouldn't be his last moments. He counted their shots. They're going to have to reload soon. He waited for the click at the end of the round and against his better judgment, got to his knees, and swung his arms over the sacks, and took a shot. He missed. He threw himself back to the floor and cursed as he realized what he'd just done. There goes my last shot. Wasted on a miss! He pushed his forehead into the cool concrete floor and wondered how he could get out of this. If he could get out of this.

In the meantime, Starsky had been helping to slowly clear the barn. It was taking a long time since both sets of bad guys had brought a considerable amount of firepower. He'd shot a few people and cuffed some others who'd surrendered to him. He had slowly made it about three-fourths of the way to the back of the barn. There was a man just ahead of him, firing a semi-automatic into a bunch of feed sacks piled in the back corner. He quickly and quietly snuck up on the man and pressed his Beretta to the back of his head.

"I'd drop that if I were you," Starsky recommended. The man obeyed and set the weapon the floor. Starsky reached for the semi-automatic, careful to keep his gun against the man's head. He slid it out of reach and cuffed him as another officer came up beside him. "Get this guy outta here, will ya?" he ordered.

"Yes, sir." The officer nodded and did as instructed.

The worst of the fighting had died down. Most of the men from both gangs had been taken down one way or picked up his radio and switched it on. "How we doing?" he asked. Dobey's voice answered.

"Everything is under control out here, but we have at least two officers down. Paramedics are pulling in now. What about in there?"

"About three left that I can see," he paused as the sound of a shot passed. "Make that two, Cap'. Dillon just got one."

"See Chandler?"

"Negative." Breathing or otherwise, he added silently.

"Keep me informed."

"Copy that, Cap'."

"I think we got 'em all, Starsky," Dillon announced as he led a prisoner towards the door. Chandler let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. Relief washed over him. Starsky and the cavalry did it!

"Has anyone seen Chandler?" He heard Starsky ask. Chandler was about to call out and answer his fellow detective when he came to the horrifying realization that he was no longer alone behind the feed sacks.

"No, sir," an officer answered as he accepted one of the last holdout's surrender. Starsky scanned the bodies on the floor. None of them were Chandler. Where are you? Maybe he got out. Jumped out a window or something. He radioed Dobey. "You sure Chandler's not out there?"

"We just checked the whole perimeter. We didn't find him."

"Copy that. I'll keep looking." Starsky looked around, trying to figure out where Chandler could be. All the other officers had left the building. He spotted a stack of feed sacks in the corner the man he'd snuck up on had been shooting at. Wonder if he's back there? he thought. It could have been one of the crooks too. Either way, I doubt they're alive after all that, he told himself. There's nowhere else he could be though, right? He would have made himself known by now if he was alive. Starsky shut his eyes and felt his heart constrict at the drew his gun and slowly approached the corner, expecting to find the body of his friend he had wanted so badly to protect. "Chandler? You back there?" he called, not expecting a reply.

"Come any closer and he dies!" Gonzalez's voice answered.

Starsky stopped in his tracks. Does he have Chandler? He's still alive?! He could be lying…

"Drop your gun or I'll cut his throat out!" Gonzalez demanded. Starsky tightened his grip on the weapon.

"How do I know you're not bluffing? He could be dead for all I know." Starsky hoped he was wrong. As crazy as it seemed, he hoped Gonzalez was using Chandler as a hostage. If it were true, that meant Chandler was still breathing.

"I'm standing up and bringing him with me. Make one wrong move and you're precious Chandler gets it," Gonzalez spat, saying Chandler's name with obvious disgust. Gonzalez hated to be double-crossed. He stood, pulling his prisoner to his feet as well. Starsky breathed in sharply as Chandler came into view, alive, but with Gonzalez's knife to his neck. Starsky slowly placed his gun on the floor. "Kick it over," Gonzalez ordered.

However, Starsky had another gun tucked into the back of his waistband. He'd put it there earlier after taking it off a body. It's loaded too. I could put Gonzalez down right now if he didn't have Chandler. He decided against using it until a more advantageous opportunity arose.

"Let him go," Starsky said as he met Chandler's eyes. I'm going to get ya out of here. Hang in there.

"Why should I? What have I got to lose? After what this pig did, he deserves to be gutted!"

"We can work something out, but you have to let him go. You kill him and you can kiss your freedom goodbye."

"Like I have a chance at freedom. What a joke!" Gonzalez laughed, reaching down to retrieve Starsky's gun, careful to keep the knife to Chandler's throat.

"The feds want something you've got bad enough to convince the DA to let you off," Starsky told him.

"What do they want?" Gonzalez's curiosity was peaked. Chandler wondered what Starsky's plan was.

"The names of your connections in Mexico. You give them up and you'll walk, but if you kill a cop then you'll rot in prison for the rest of your life," Starsky explained, watching the gears turn in Gonzalez's head. The man wasn't stupid. No one got that far in this business if they didn't have some sense. Starsky had no idea if it was true or not, but he guessed the federal authorities would be interested in an international connection. They might care enough to make a deal, but Starsky was more concerned with getting Chandler out of harm's way than the legitimacy of his offer.

"You get me that in writing and we'll talk."

"Okay, but I have to talk to my captain. I'm gonna go for my radio." He reached down, careful to keep his hands in Gonzalez's line of vision. Gonzalez brought the gun up and aimed it at Starsky in case he decided to try anything. Chandler and Starsky's eyes met. Chandler shook his head and tilted it towards Gonzalez's gun. His movements were so subtle Starsky thought he might have imagined it.

"Hey, Cap'?" Starsky kept his eyes on Chandler as he spoke, hoping for confirmation of what he thought Chandler was trying to tell him. "I need you to get me something."

"What?" Dobey replied. Starsky paused. Chandler gave him a determined look. Starsky took it as the confirmation he needed.

"Backup!" Starsky shouted into the radio before grabbing the gun from his waistband. Chandler elbowed Gonzalez in the ribs with every ounce of strength he had, taking his former boss by surprise and reaching for the knife. He took Gonzalez's wrist and wrenched it away from his neck, barely avoiding a fatal slash. Starsky watched the struggle, unable to get a clear shot that wouldn't risk hitting the wrong man. Gonzalez switched his aim from Starsky to his unruly hostage. Chandler ducked and kicked Gonzalez in the knee, throwing off his balance. Gonzalez toppled to the floor as Starsky ran up, gun trained on the drug lord. Chandler crawled away as quickly as he could, trying to put distance between them.

"You all right, Chandler?" Starsky asked, not taking his eyes off Gonzalez.

"Yeah. I'm good," Chandler answered, breathing a sigh of relief and panting from the effort of all the evening's activity. Starsky fished around in his back pocket and tossed his cuffs to Chandler.

"Wanna do the honors of arresting this turkey?" Starsky asked. "And you," he continued, addressing the man on the floor. "Give me back my gun." He retrieved his Beretta from where the criminal boss had dropped it. Chandler came over and stood next to him. Officers poured into the building, all armed and ready for action. Dobey was with them. "We got this under control, Captain. I wouldn't mind some extra guns on this guy though," Starsky told them. Chandler cuffed Gonzalez and began to say the words he'd said a million times. This time though, they felt more satisfying.

"Manuel Gonzalez. You are under arrest. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law…"

After a long time spent in the shower, Hutch had been dressed in a clean hospital gown and tucked back into bed. There he had stayed and suffered through his whale of a migraine. The shower had helped, but it was short-lived. His headache was back with a vengeance, his sore throat was annoying, and his side felt like it would burst from all the moving around he'd done earlier. He glanced at the clock. It was past midnight. Guess the buy is done by now. Wonder how it went? Wonder how Starsky and Chandler are doin- A sharp pain in his head brought his train of thought to a screeching halt. That's it! I can't take it anymore! I'm done with this migraine! Why can't it just go away? Jenny appeared shortly, making her rounds.

"Feeling any better?" Jenny asked as she adjusted his pillow.

"No," he answered honestly. It hurt too much to lie.

"Still nauseous?"

"Yeah." Her voice is so loud! he thought.

"I'm afraid that's a normal side effect of your concussion. Migraines and nausea are pretty common."

"Figured," he responded, though he wasn't convinced it was entirely due to his head injury.

"How would you rate your pain?"

"Ten." Why does giving one-word answers take so much effort?

"Is it just your head?"

"Mainly." It was a half-truth. It hurt everywhere, but his head was the one pain he couldn't distract himself from. He closed his eyes. The light hurt.

"Let me get you a Tylenol. The doctor cleared you for it this morning."

"Won't help."

"How do you know? I think you should at least-"

"It never does," he mumbled, shading his eyes with his hand.

"What?"

"It's not strong enough."

"I'm sorry but that's all the doctor approved," she told him.

"What about morphine?" he blurted out before he could stop himself. She evaluated the suffering patient before her, unsure of how to respond.

"I don't think that's a good idea. We're trying to wean you off, remember?"

"Please." He looked her in the eyes. "Just a little. Just so I can sleep," he begged as he tore his eyes away from her gaze.

"I'll consult the doctor. Wait right there."

"Okay." He nodded obediently. Couldn't go anywhere even if I wanted to. Jenny switched off the light as she left the room. Bless her, he thought, admiring her observation skills. He tried to pull the blanket tighter around himself. It's freezing in here.

Jenny returned a few minutes later and turned on the bedside lamp. Hutch was thankful it was dimmer than the overhead lights.

"Doctor said it would be okay for you to have another dose, but it has to be low," she explained as she prepared the IV.

"All right," he replied quietly. His sore throat made speaking unpleasant. She gently took his arm and connected the line to it. Hutch couldn't believe he'd personally requested to be put on opioids again. It took him back to earlier times, above Huggy's bar, begging Starsky for help. He cringed at the thought. That was different, Hutchinson. This isn't the same. Another shiver ran through him.

"Cold?" Jenny asked. Hutch nodded. She grabbed an additional blanket from the closet and laid it over him, then put a hand on his forehead. "Let's take your temperature." Concern was obvious in her tone.

"Fine," he replied in a whisper. She retrieved the thermometer and placed it under his tongue. He sighed and hoped it would read normal. After a while, Jenny took it back and examined the results.

"You've got a fever all right," she announced with a frown.

"Great," he grumbled. Just what I need.

"It's not dangerously high, but we'll keep an eye on it. I'll be back to take it again in a couple of hours. Right now, you need to rest. The morphine should help your head. Call if you need anything, Ken."

He closed his eyes and mumbled his thanks. He heard her switch off the lamp and leave. Come on, morphine, kick in! Do your thing and make it better. Just take it all away…

Two hours later, Jenny tiptoed into the room and found him asleep. He looked almost peaceful. She smiled, glad he'd been able to get some relief. She'd come in to take his temperature, but decided it wasn't worth interrupting the rest he so desperately needed. She made a note to check on him and his fever later and left him to what she hoped were good dreams.

Back at the site of the buy, Starsky and Chandler had been checked out by the EMTs. Starsky had escaped relatively unscathed. He'd taken a punch from one of Gregory's men and had come away with only a few cuts and bruises. Chandler hadn't been so lucky. His face had sustained a good beating, courtesy of Knox. He didn't have anything that needed immediate attention, but the EMT had recommended he avoid driving, monitor himself for signs of concussion, and see a doctor when possible. They had also given brief statements of the evening's events, retraced their steps for the police photographer, and helped to collect the evidence. The DA wanted all the details nailed down tonight, so everyone hung around longer than was typical.

"I feel like I got hit by a bus," Chandler commented as they waited for further instructions from Dobey. He placed the ice pack the EMT had given him on his battered cheek.

"Knox hit you, right? That guy practically is one the way he's built," Starsky replied.

"What time is it?"

"Two-thirty."

"Is that all? Seems like longer," Chandler responded with a sigh.

"Time drags when you're stuck in the middle of a gunfight, huh?"

"Sure does. Especially when you really wanna get out of it alive. Thanks to you I did. I owe both you and your partner my life now."

"Don't worry about it. You would've done the same. Besides, I can't take all the credit for this time anyway. You fought hard in there, man." Your face proves it, Starsky added silently, surveying the damage Knox had done.

"It still doesn't feel real. Everything since you shot Gregory seems like a dream."

"It's weird. I feel like I was hiding behind that bush three days ago, but it's only been three and a half hours."

"I tell you what though. I can't wait to get home! I haven't slept in my own bed in months," Chandler said as he moved his ice pack to the other side of his face.

"I bet Mary's gonna be glad to get you back."

"She's probably gotten used to sleeping without me. Maybe decided she only wants the baby kicking her at night," Chandler joked. Starsky chuckled.

"I think she'll be so overjoyed to have her husband back in one piece that she won't care what you do for a while. You could probably get away with anything in the next couple of weeks!"

"The only thing I want to do anytime soon is sleep and spend time catching up on everything. I've been gone too long."

"Deep cover stinks," Starsky agreed as Dobey ran up. Dobey's running. Red alert! Starsky thought, wondering what could be so urgent.

"Todd, I have news." Dobey addressed Chandler by his first name. Both detectives exchanged a nervous glance.

"What's going on?" Chandler asked with a worried look on his face. Dobey motioned for him to sit down on the tailgate of the truck they were standing by. Chandler obeyed. Starsky placed a hand on his shoulder.

"I just got a call from the hospital. Mary was rushed there a few minutes ago."

"What? Why? What happened?" Chandler asked, rushing to get the words out, mind going a million miles a minute.

"She went into labor."

"But we still have a month and a half to go until the baby's due!" No! It's not time yet!

"That's all they told me. You need to be there, son." Dobey's tone was serious. Starsky got the impression Dobey suspected there could be trouble.

"I'll drive him, Cap'," Starsky volunteered. Dobey handed him a set of keys.

"These are for my car over there. It's got a full tank. Go!" Before the captain had finished the sentence, his detectives were running towards the vehicle.

Hutch slowly awoke in the darkness of his hospital room. It felt like a sauna and his whole body was soaked in sweat. Hot… So hot!. Pain shot through him as he squirmed, trying to kick off the covers. He moaned, still only half-awake. His head throbbed, demanding attention. Why? Just why? Between the drugs and drowsiness, he didn't register where he was. They left me! Why did they leave me? Hutch didn't know who the "they" he was thinking about was, but their abandonment troubled him. Don't go! I can't be alone! Tears flowed down his face, brought on by fear and pain. He didn't understand why he felt so threw off the covers and sat up, paying no thought to the immense pain that the action would cause. He cried out in anguish. Gotta get up! he thought as he struggled to his feet. Gotta go- The next thing he knew, everything went black.