This is a work of fiction. No copyright infringement intended.
Hunter and its characters belong to someone like Stephen J Cannell
Unfinished Business originally written by Morgan Gendal
OK - we all saw Unfinished Business right? So why did it happen? And what happened after? It helps if you can pretend that nothing from Streetwise onwards happened, except maybe in our nightmares. ;)
UNFINISHED BUSINESS - the whole story.
Prologue
August 1987
Dee Dee became aware that Rick was watching her questioningly from across the table. She'd been so deep in thought that she hadn't even heard his question. "Sorry?" "I said, are you feeling OK?" "Oh, yeah. I'm fine. I was just thinking . about Steve," she lied. Today would have been their anniversary. Even after six years she still missed him and on their anniversary the pain was closer to the surface than usual. But tonight, indeed for the past three weeks there had been other things on her mind. Three weeks ago she'd come oh-so-close to being another victim of Lloyd Fredericks, dubbed 'Bigfoot' by the press because of the size 10 shoeprints he'd left at several victims' homes. He had raped nine other women, killing one in the process. She had only barely managed to escape; and but for the fickle hand of fate she would have lost her job for not reporting the attempt. But she couldn't, not again. Two years earlier it had happened for real. While working on a rape homicide at the Curaguayan Embassy she had been raped by their so-called 'cultural attaché'. Because he had diplomatic immunity no one done a damn thing about it, except Hunter, who had followed the bastard down to South America and eventually killed him. It had seemed, at times, as if she would never recover from the rape, and indeed it taken a long time. It was many months before she could sleep without reliving the terror over and over again. Hunter had spent more than a month camping out on her couch, comforting her when the nightmares awoke her trembling with fear, and lending his broad shoulder when it all became too much. Of course, it had all faded eventually, and life had continued much as before, leaving her with some painful memories and the occasional bad dream. It had also altered her relationship with Hunter subtly, but immutably. Together they had survived it and they could never be the same again. They were no longer just partners, friends; they were closer than she had ever felt to anyone, including Steve. They could communicate on a level that was not always verbal, but nevertheless quite clear. It was a platonic relationship of course, as the job demanded, but the bond that linked them was inextricable, and she doubted that anything could ever change that. Now the nightmares had returned with a vengeance, sometimes of Fredericks, but mostly of Raul Marianos. It was almost as if they were trying to make up for lost time. Dr Paxton had offered to prescribe tranquillizers to help her sleep more easily, but they didn't stop the nightmares, they only made it harder to escape them. Instead she had been surviving on three to four hours of sleep a night. The urge to cling to her partner for support once again was strong, but she resisted. Her ribs were slowly healing, and she had fought Fredericks off. She felt guilty and embarrassed at needing her friend so badly over something so trivial as a few nightmares. No matter how close they were he still had his own life to lead; he was not her personal teddy bear, after all. She hoped this trip to Virginia would help her to put it all behind her. She sighed and fiddled absently with her wine glass.
Hunter watched her with concern. He knew she was not handling the rape attempt nearly as well as she wanted him to think. It brought back too many bad things of the real thing. For him, too, he thought ruefully. Now, as then, he felt frustrated by what he perceived to be his inability to comfort her adequately. She was hurting and he didn't know how to help her. He hoped he'd been right in persuading her to go on the FBI training course in Virginia. He didn't want her to think that he was trying to get rid of her. As the waiter took their orders he decided to try a different tack to get her talking. "So, how did you and Steve meet?" She smiled, for perhaps the first time in weeks, and recounted for him the day at the Police Academy when she and Steve had first bumped into each other - quite literally. She was in her first week there, and he was giving the new recruits a lecture on life as a detective. "Oh, yeah, I remember that," Hunter recalled. "We drew lots to see who was going to do it and Steve got the short straw. He was really nervous about. I guess he didn't regret it for long. You know, we wondered why he was in such a good mood the next day."
Their meals arrived and the conversation moved on. Gradually, Dee Dee began to relax, and soon discovered she was enjoying herself. The soft, candle-lit ambience of the restaurant, and the comforting presence of her partner made her problems seem nonexistent. For the first time in weeks she found herself really laughing, and before long they were clinging to each other's hand. By the time the waiter brought the bill they were discussing her trip to Quantico. She was looking forward to the trip, she decided. The waiter smiled indulgently when he noticed them holding hands. Catching the look Dee Dee flushed as she realized what he must be thinking, but then dismissed the thought. It was his problem, not theirs. When Rick pulled up outside her house she hesitated before getting out of the car. She'd had more fun tonight than she'd had in a long time. She didn't want it stop right now. Not for the first time, she was glad to have Rick as a friend. She could talk with him like she could with no one else and tonight it seemed they had talked more than she and Steve had in three years of marriage. She realized she would miss him while she was away. Six weeks suddenly seemed like a long time. "Listen, do you want to come in for coffee? It's still early." "Sure. Why not?"
Rick was silent as the made the coffee; he simply stood and watched her, his expression as unreadable as ever. As she brought the coffee over he took it from her and placed the cups carefully on the table beside him. Then he leaned down, cupping her face in his hands and kissed her gently, but intently. After a moment he stepped back. His eyes never left hers as he waited for a response. By way of reply she stepped closer to him, sliding her arms about his shoulders as he enfolded her in an embrace and they kissed again. The thought that they really shouldn't be doing this nagged momentarily at her, but she banished the idea - it felt so right. For more than three years they had been friends and partners, and any attraction they felt for each other had to be put aside. They were partnered police officers first and foremost. But just this once, what harm could it do? To ease the strain on his back from bending so far, Rick picked her up, supporting her weight with ease as he held her even tighter to him, not breaking the kiss for even an instant. As it became even more intense, he began to slowly carry her up the stairs to her bedroom, unwilling to let her go for even a second. "Are you sure about this?" he asked as he lay her gently on the bed. She murmured her assent, pulling him down to her.
Many hours later he lay wide awake, staring at the ceiling, wondering why he had woken up. Dee Dee lay cradled in his arms, fast asleep, her head resting on his shoulder, he hair soft against his cheek. His body was urging him to sleep, too, but his brain would not let him. Vague feelings of guilt nagged at him. He felt as if he had taken advantage of her in some way, which was ridiculous. She was, after all, a grown woman, capable of saying no if she wanted. And it wasn't like he had planned for this to happen. It just had. Nevertheless, the feeling persisted. With an exasperated sigh he rolled onto his, pulling her closer without waking her, and tried to clear his mind. Eventually, warmed by the soft body beside him and lulled by her gentle breathing, he drifted back to sleep.
Chapter 1
September 1990
Mao Lin gave the man who had just entered his store no more than a cursory glance. He was an unsavoury looking character - large, hirsute, and unwashed - but that was hardly unusual in this neighbourhood. As long as he spent his money in here, Mao Lin couldn't give a damn about his personal hygiene. As the other customer left he put down the girlie magazine he had been leafing idly through and shuffled up to the lottery counter. "Got any winners today?" he growled. "Not here," Mao Lin replied cheerfully. To his horror, the great bear pulled a large gun from his jacket and pushed it in his face. Mao Lin was no expert, but it looked to him like a .44 Magnum - the kind Dirty Harry used. The growl was now a snarl. "You wanna bet?" From another pocket a cloth bag was produced. "Put the money in the bag." Hypnotised by the enormous gun, Mao Lin hesitated. His limbs seemed unwilling to move. "Come on!" The gun was thrust closer to him. "Hurry!" Galvanized into action, he began stuffing notes into the proffered bag. Not once did he take his eyes from the nor, nor the finger pressed against the trigger which seemed to twitch with eagerness. The old man fought to keep his face expressionless as he thought of his own gun, resting on the shelf below the cash register, just inches away from his hand. Just a few moments were all he would need.
Neither man noticed the woman just outside the window, staring in at them in horror. She was frozen in the act of picking up a paper from the stand mesmerized by what she was witnessing. The spell was only broken when saw the huge man with the gun prod the shop keeper menacingly. He looked agitated. If she didn't get the police here quickly he might start shooting the place up. Praying she hadn't been seen she hurried to the pay phone on the corner, Her hand trembled as she punched in 911.
Rick Hunter pulled his battered Lincoln green Dodge to a halt outside the Burger King restaurant and turned to his partner. "What do you want?" She gave the matter some serious consideration. "I want a cheeseburger, and a large soda." "Want any fries?" "No. I'll pass." Dee Dee wondered whether she should tell him he was too old to be a McDonald's employee. "I'm buying." "I'll take a large order." Hunter buying fast food, other than chilli dogs, was an unusual sight, and not something to be taken lightly. Neither was the chance to eat lunch. It was a rare day when they had time to stop long enough to eat a proper meal. Hunter laughed and shook his head despairingly at her as he climbed out of the car. Before he could close the door the radio crackled into life. Dee Dee could sense another meal was about to go begging. "All units in the vicinity of 1Adam29. Possible 211 there now. Mao Lin Market. 10th and Alameda. Code 10-High." McCall looked at Hunter. "That's four blocks from here." "Let's take it." She was already pulling her seatbelt back on.
Mao Lin thrust the half-full bag back at the hairy giant and groped under the counter for his gun. The man was half turned away, heading for the door, but turned back, as if alerted by some sixth-sense. The last thing Mao Lin saw was the brilliant flash from the muzzle of the Magnum as a cannon-blow to his chest felled him.
Hunter slammed on the brakes just time to avoid being rammed into by a blue van pulling out of the lot in front of the market. "That looked like our boy." He could hear the wail of sirens getting closer and closer. "Backup's behind us. Let's take him." After nearly six years of being partners he didn't need to at McCall to see her nod in agreement. Instead he shoved the Dodge into high-speed pursuit after the van. The traffic was blessedly light for the time of day, so keeping the van in sight was no problem. Catching it was another matter, however. Hunter silently cursed his car, not for the first time. It was an antiquated hulk with no get up and go. But it was all they would requisition him. In less busy moments he had wondered why. As McCall updated Dispatch on their current location they were joined by a black and white unit, which had no more luck closing the distance to the suspect Hunter noted with some satisfaction. By now they had entered the warehouse district. Most of them were abandoned, awaiting demolition. Hunter would have bet money that the perp was heading for one of them. "Here we go." McCall pointed to the warehouse the van had disappeared into. Hunter pulled the Dodge in front of the loading bay doors the van had driven through. It was parked just inside, the driver's side door still open. It looked innocent enough . Hunter instructed the uniformed officer to go in the back way and try to drive the guy towards them. "Let's check the van," he suggested to his partner. Covering each other they advanced towards the vehicle. In all likelihood he was hiding somewhere in the bowels of the warehouse, but failing to check the van could cost one or both of them their lives. The van was empty and there was only one door. Cautiously, they proceeded down the steps, straining to see in the murky blackness. It was cold and damp, and the sound of dripping water echoed through the cavernous expanse. Discarded packing crates, piled high provided ample places for the suspect to hide. Hunter gestured with his free hand. "Why don't you go left, I'll go right," he whispered. Stepping over a puddle he added, "Watch your step!"
Clutching the .38 in her hand tightly, McCall moved off quietly. Pumping adrenaline enhanced her senses, making her hearing more acute, compensating for the diminished visibility. To her right she could vaguely hear Hunter moving stealthily forward. She paused. Was that a noise? Holding her breath she listened more closely. She was sure. Someone was moving around between her and Hunter. Almost silently she doubled back. Once again she paused. The noise had stopped. Then she heard it - a furtive movement just ahead. She edged forward, gun at the ready, poised to fire. She stepped around the corner of the packing crates to find herself staring down the barrel of Hunter's gun. For a moment they both froze, then sagged with relief. Hunter was livid. "What are you doing? I thought you were going to go left!" McCall tried to explain. "I heard a noise behind you." It sounded unconvincing, even to her ears. "You heard a noise? That was me. You heard me!" "Well, this place is like an echo chamber." They both spun around as Officer Williams came pounding through the back door. "What's up?" he panted. "Did you see him?" "Didn't you see him?" Hunter demanded. "No. Not a trace." Hunter spun back to McCall and glared down at her. Suddenly there came the noise of a car being started. The engine was reluctant to turn over. Only one car they knew sounded like that. "Come on," Hunter snarled at McCall. They got outside just in time to see their car careening away. "What a day it's been, huh?" Hunter commented snidely, reholstering his gun. McCall simply shot him a glare.
OK - we all saw Unfinished Business right? So why did it happen? And what happened after? It helps if you can pretend that nothing from Streetwise onwards happened, except maybe in our nightmares. ;)
UNFINISHED BUSINESS - the whole story.
Prologue
August 1987
Dee Dee became aware that Rick was watching her questioningly from across the table. She'd been so deep in thought that she hadn't even heard his question. "Sorry?" "I said, are you feeling OK?" "Oh, yeah. I'm fine. I was just thinking . about Steve," she lied. Today would have been their anniversary. Even after six years she still missed him and on their anniversary the pain was closer to the surface than usual. But tonight, indeed for the past three weeks there had been other things on her mind. Three weeks ago she'd come oh-so-close to being another victim of Lloyd Fredericks, dubbed 'Bigfoot' by the press because of the size 10 shoeprints he'd left at several victims' homes. He had raped nine other women, killing one in the process. She had only barely managed to escape; and but for the fickle hand of fate she would have lost her job for not reporting the attempt. But she couldn't, not again. Two years earlier it had happened for real. While working on a rape homicide at the Curaguayan Embassy she had been raped by their so-called 'cultural attaché'. Because he had diplomatic immunity no one done a damn thing about it, except Hunter, who had followed the bastard down to South America and eventually killed him. It had seemed, at times, as if she would never recover from the rape, and indeed it taken a long time. It was many months before she could sleep without reliving the terror over and over again. Hunter had spent more than a month camping out on her couch, comforting her when the nightmares awoke her trembling with fear, and lending his broad shoulder when it all became too much. Of course, it had all faded eventually, and life had continued much as before, leaving her with some painful memories and the occasional bad dream. It had also altered her relationship with Hunter subtly, but immutably. Together they had survived it and they could never be the same again. They were no longer just partners, friends; they were closer than she had ever felt to anyone, including Steve. They could communicate on a level that was not always verbal, but nevertheless quite clear. It was a platonic relationship of course, as the job demanded, but the bond that linked them was inextricable, and she doubted that anything could ever change that. Now the nightmares had returned with a vengeance, sometimes of Fredericks, but mostly of Raul Marianos. It was almost as if they were trying to make up for lost time. Dr Paxton had offered to prescribe tranquillizers to help her sleep more easily, but they didn't stop the nightmares, they only made it harder to escape them. Instead she had been surviving on three to four hours of sleep a night. The urge to cling to her partner for support once again was strong, but she resisted. Her ribs were slowly healing, and she had fought Fredericks off. She felt guilty and embarrassed at needing her friend so badly over something so trivial as a few nightmares. No matter how close they were he still had his own life to lead; he was not her personal teddy bear, after all. She hoped this trip to Virginia would help her to put it all behind her. She sighed and fiddled absently with her wine glass.
Hunter watched her with concern. He knew she was not handling the rape attempt nearly as well as she wanted him to think. It brought back too many bad things of the real thing. For him, too, he thought ruefully. Now, as then, he felt frustrated by what he perceived to be his inability to comfort her adequately. She was hurting and he didn't know how to help her. He hoped he'd been right in persuading her to go on the FBI training course in Virginia. He didn't want her to think that he was trying to get rid of her. As the waiter took their orders he decided to try a different tack to get her talking. "So, how did you and Steve meet?" She smiled, for perhaps the first time in weeks, and recounted for him the day at the Police Academy when she and Steve had first bumped into each other - quite literally. She was in her first week there, and he was giving the new recruits a lecture on life as a detective. "Oh, yeah, I remember that," Hunter recalled. "We drew lots to see who was going to do it and Steve got the short straw. He was really nervous about. I guess he didn't regret it for long. You know, we wondered why he was in such a good mood the next day."
Their meals arrived and the conversation moved on. Gradually, Dee Dee began to relax, and soon discovered she was enjoying herself. The soft, candle-lit ambience of the restaurant, and the comforting presence of her partner made her problems seem nonexistent. For the first time in weeks she found herself really laughing, and before long they were clinging to each other's hand. By the time the waiter brought the bill they were discussing her trip to Quantico. She was looking forward to the trip, she decided. The waiter smiled indulgently when he noticed them holding hands. Catching the look Dee Dee flushed as she realized what he must be thinking, but then dismissed the thought. It was his problem, not theirs. When Rick pulled up outside her house she hesitated before getting out of the car. She'd had more fun tonight than she'd had in a long time. She didn't want it stop right now. Not for the first time, she was glad to have Rick as a friend. She could talk with him like she could with no one else and tonight it seemed they had talked more than she and Steve had in three years of marriage. She realized she would miss him while she was away. Six weeks suddenly seemed like a long time. "Listen, do you want to come in for coffee? It's still early." "Sure. Why not?"
Rick was silent as the made the coffee; he simply stood and watched her, his expression as unreadable as ever. As she brought the coffee over he took it from her and placed the cups carefully on the table beside him. Then he leaned down, cupping her face in his hands and kissed her gently, but intently. After a moment he stepped back. His eyes never left hers as he waited for a response. By way of reply she stepped closer to him, sliding her arms about his shoulders as he enfolded her in an embrace and they kissed again. The thought that they really shouldn't be doing this nagged momentarily at her, but she banished the idea - it felt so right. For more than three years they had been friends and partners, and any attraction they felt for each other had to be put aside. They were partnered police officers first and foremost. But just this once, what harm could it do? To ease the strain on his back from bending so far, Rick picked her up, supporting her weight with ease as he held her even tighter to him, not breaking the kiss for even an instant. As it became even more intense, he began to slowly carry her up the stairs to her bedroom, unwilling to let her go for even a second. "Are you sure about this?" he asked as he lay her gently on the bed. She murmured her assent, pulling him down to her.
Many hours later he lay wide awake, staring at the ceiling, wondering why he had woken up. Dee Dee lay cradled in his arms, fast asleep, her head resting on his shoulder, he hair soft against his cheek. His body was urging him to sleep, too, but his brain would not let him. Vague feelings of guilt nagged at him. He felt as if he had taken advantage of her in some way, which was ridiculous. She was, after all, a grown woman, capable of saying no if she wanted. And it wasn't like he had planned for this to happen. It just had. Nevertheless, the feeling persisted. With an exasperated sigh he rolled onto his, pulling her closer without waking her, and tried to clear his mind. Eventually, warmed by the soft body beside him and lulled by her gentle breathing, he drifted back to sleep.
Chapter 1
September 1990
Mao Lin gave the man who had just entered his store no more than a cursory glance. He was an unsavoury looking character - large, hirsute, and unwashed - but that was hardly unusual in this neighbourhood. As long as he spent his money in here, Mao Lin couldn't give a damn about his personal hygiene. As the other customer left he put down the girlie magazine he had been leafing idly through and shuffled up to the lottery counter. "Got any winners today?" he growled. "Not here," Mao Lin replied cheerfully. To his horror, the great bear pulled a large gun from his jacket and pushed it in his face. Mao Lin was no expert, but it looked to him like a .44 Magnum - the kind Dirty Harry used. The growl was now a snarl. "You wanna bet?" From another pocket a cloth bag was produced. "Put the money in the bag." Hypnotised by the enormous gun, Mao Lin hesitated. His limbs seemed unwilling to move. "Come on!" The gun was thrust closer to him. "Hurry!" Galvanized into action, he began stuffing notes into the proffered bag. Not once did he take his eyes from the nor, nor the finger pressed against the trigger which seemed to twitch with eagerness. The old man fought to keep his face expressionless as he thought of his own gun, resting on the shelf below the cash register, just inches away from his hand. Just a few moments were all he would need.
Neither man noticed the woman just outside the window, staring in at them in horror. She was frozen in the act of picking up a paper from the stand mesmerized by what she was witnessing. The spell was only broken when saw the huge man with the gun prod the shop keeper menacingly. He looked agitated. If she didn't get the police here quickly he might start shooting the place up. Praying she hadn't been seen she hurried to the pay phone on the corner, Her hand trembled as she punched in 911.
Rick Hunter pulled his battered Lincoln green Dodge to a halt outside the Burger King restaurant and turned to his partner. "What do you want?" She gave the matter some serious consideration. "I want a cheeseburger, and a large soda." "Want any fries?" "No. I'll pass." Dee Dee wondered whether she should tell him he was too old to be a McDonald's employee. "I'm buying." "I'll take a large order." Hunter buying fast food, other than chilli dogs, was an unusual sight, and not something to be taken lightly. Neither was the chance to eat lunch. It was a rare day when they had time to stop long enough to eat a proper meal. Hunter laughed and shook his head despairingly at her as he climbed out of the car. Before he could close the door the radio crackled into life. Dee Dee could sense another meal was about to go begging. "All units in the vicinity of 1Adam29. Possible 211 there now. Mao Lin Market. 10th and Alameda. Code 10-High." McCall looked at Hunter. "That's four blocks from here." "Let's take it." She was already pulling her seatbelt back on.
Mao Lin thrust the half-full bag back at the hairy giant and groped under the counter for his gun. The man was half turned away, heading for the door, but turned back, as if alerted by some sixth-sense. The last thing Mao Lin saw was the brilliant flash from the muzzle of the Magnum as a cannon-blow to his chest felled him.
Hunter slammed on the brakes just time to avoid being rammed into by a blue van pulling out of the lot in front of the market. "That looked like our boy." He could hear the wail of sirens getting closer and closer. "Backup's behind us. Let's take him." After nearly six years of being partners he didn't need to at McCall to see her nod in agreement. Instead he shoved the Dodge into high-speed pursuit after the van. The traffic was blessedly light for the time of day, so keeping the van in sight was no problem. Catching it was another matter, however. Hunter silently cursed his car, not for the first time. It was an antiquated hulk with no get up and go. But it was all they would requisition him. In less busy moments he had wondered why. As McCall updated Dispatch on their current location they were joined by a black and white unit, which had no more luck closing the distance to the suspect Hunter noted with some satisfaction. By now they had entered the warehouse district. Most of them were abandoned, awaiting demolition. Hunter would have bet money that the perp was heading for one of them. "Here we go." McCall pointed to the warehouse the van had disappeared into. Hunter pulled the Dodge in front of the loading bay doors the van had driven through. It was parked just inside, the driver's side door still open. It looked innocent enough . Hunter instructed the uniformed officer to go in the back way and try to drive the guy towards them. "Let's check the van," he suggested to his partner. Covering each other they advanced towards the vehicle. In all likelihood he was hiding somewhere in the bowels of the warehouse, but failing to check the van could cost one or both of them their lives. The van was empty and there was only one door. Cautiously, they proceeded down the steps, straining to see in the murky blackness. It was cold and damp, and the sound of dripping water echoed through the cavernous expanse. Discarded packing crates, piled high provided ample places for the suspect to hide. Hunter gestured with his free hand. "Why don't you go left, I'll go right," he whispered. Stepping over a puddle he added, "Watch your step!"
Clutching the .38 in her hand tightly, McCall moved off quietly. Pumping adrenaline enhanced her senses, making her hearing more acute, compensating for the diminished visibility. To her right she could vaguely hear Hunter moving stealthily forward. She paused. Was that a noise? Holding her breath she listened more closely. She was sure. Someone was moving around between her and Hunter. Almost silently she doubled back. Once again she paused. The noise had stopped. Then she heard it - a furtive movement just ahead. She edged forward, gun at the ready, poised to fire. She stepped around the corner of the packing crates to find herself staring down the barrel of Hunter's gun. For a moment they both froze, then sagged with relief. Hunter was livid. "What are you doing? I thought you were going to go left!" McCall tried to explain. "I heard a noise behind you." It sounded unconvincing, even to her ears. "You heard a noise? That was me. You heard me!" "Well, this place is like an echo chamber." They both spun around as Officer Williams came pounding through the back door. "What's up?" he panted. "Did you see him?" "Didn't you see him?" Hunter demanded. "No. Not a trace." Hunter spun back to McCall and glared down at her. Suddenly there came the noise of a car being started. The engine was reluctant to turn over. Only one car they knew sounded like that. "Come on," Hunter snarled at McCall. They got outside just in time to see their car careening away. "What a day it's been, huh?" Hunter commented snidely, reholstering his gun. McCall simply shot him a glare.