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.
Chapter 10
Megan was hovering anxiously by their desks when they stepped off the elevator. "The surveillance paid off," she informed them, without preamble. "Suzy's on the move. She's on foot, carrying a suitcase. She's going to Streiber." Malone sounded so certain, but McCall wasn't so sure. It was all a little too obvious. Before she could voice her doubts a uniformed officer whose name she could never remember handed her a sheet of paper. It was the phone list she had asked for. Now things made much more sense. Suzy, it seemed, had called a sleaze-bag ex-paramedic named Rydell. The Lieutenant was not impressed by this information. "We can follow that up later. She's leading us now to Streiber." McCall looked to her partner for support, realizing with a jolt how much she had missed knowing that he would back her opinions, even when he didn't believe them himself. This week seemed to have been achingly long. "I don't think so," she told Malone. "I think this suitcase deal is one of the oldest tricks in the book." "So what do you suggest?" Malone's sharp tone suggested she didn't like being contradicted. "I think we've got to sweat Rydell, and we've got to do it now." Hunter stepped in, seeing Malone was not swayed yet. "I think she's right." Dee Dee didn't fail to notice that he had moved fractionally away from Malone, as if subconsciously taking sides. "We should go for Rydell." "You know, after all this work, you could miss the bust." "Well, I don't think so." "OK," she conceded, "I'll keep my people on Suzy." As they turned and headed back to the elevator, she felt Hunter's hand slip into it's customary place against the small of her back. She almost grinned with the sudden, heady feeling that all was right with the world again. "You got Rydell's address there?" he asked, leaning forward over her shoulder. "Yeah, but he spends most of his time at a bar in Pico. We should try there first." She felt, rather than saw his nod of agreement.
Rydell was staggering out of the bar when they caught up with him. Hunter grabbed his arm, steering him towards the car and McCall. Wha's goin' on here?" he demanded blearily, as if thinking he was being mugged. McCall flashed her badge in his face. He was so drunk he probably couldn't read it anyway. "How badly do you want to stay out of jail, Rydell?" she demanded. "Huh?" "It's real simple, Larry," explained Hunter. "You tell us where we can find Nick Streiber, and we'll forget we ever met you. Otherwise, you can look forward to a nice stretch for practising medicine without a license. Among other things." "Who? I don't know ." "OK. McCall, read him his rights." "No! Wait! He's in a motel, on the corner of Crenshaw Boulevard and West Olympic." McCall waved to him as they tore away. "Such a nice, helpful man."
They parked in the alley behind the Caldwell Motel. Hunter headed for the manager's office while McCall called in their Code 6 location. As she spoke she could down the alley, onto Olympic Boulevard. At the newsstand across the street a familiar figure was browsing. The bulky profile and long greasy hair was unmistakable. Grabbing the mike again she requested backup, then took off down the alley. Hunter was on his way the stairs when she called his name and he saw her sprint past. Following behind, he soon saw then reason for her rush. Streiber had also heard her call. Nervously he looked around and saw two people running down the alley towards him. Recognizing them as the two cops he'd given the slip five days earlier, he began shoving people aside, cradling his wounded shoulder, and lumbered in the direction of Wilshire. Ducking down another side alley, he lead them into yet another disused warehouse. With an apprehensive glance at each other, Hunter and McCall followed him in. Personally, Hunter felt he had spent more than enough time empty warehouses recently. Cautiously they made their way up a stair case, only to be met by a volley of gun shots. Backing down the steps into cover they considered their next move. The warehouse had no other exits on the ground floor - the large stairwell to their left was the only course he could have taken. In the distance they could hear the insistent wail of police sirens coming closer. Backup was arriving. A ladder leaning against one wall gave Hunter an idea. Crouched on the stairs he explained his plan to McCall. "Got it?" With a nod she set off. As she began to slowly and quietly ascend the stairs, Hunter took the ladder and put it up against the wall. Just as he'd though, it reached the third level, which should put him ahead of McCall, and just behind Streiber. He clattered noisily up the next flight of stairs, hoping that Streiber could hear him. Passing the fire escape, he didn't notice the bulky shadow lurking out on the balcony, but his instincts twitched, sensing that Streiber was close. A shot rang out and he whirled around. Streiber was standing ten feet behind him, in the doorway of the fire escape. At the foot of the flight of stairs stood McCall, gun trained on Streiber. Her shot had struck him in the back of a meaty thigh, preventing him from getting off his own shot into Hunter's back. Trapped between them, but refusing to surrender, Streiber swung between the two of them, like an enraged bull uncertain of which to target first. Ignoring Hunter's command to drop his gun he decide on McCall. Before he could fire, Hunter's shot caught him in the ribs, and sent him stumbling back onto the fire escape where to teetered momentarily on the edge. Hunter got there just in time to see him hit the pavement below. McCall joined him a moment later. They watched as two uniformed officers checked the body then called for the ME's wagon. As they turned to leave their gazes locked. There was still so much to be said, and they were both anxious to do so, but it would have to wait a bit longer. There were still reports to be made and paperwork to be filed.
Lieutenant Malone arrived with the rest of the backup, somewhat miffed at having missed out on the bust herself. But she was willing to be gracious in defeat - Nick Streiber would be ripping off no more stores. As the activity wound down Malone decided it was time to head back to her own division and make out her report. She said goodbye to Hunter and McCall, wishing them luck. Hunter looked at his watch. It was after seven, and he hadn't eaten since breakfast. "Where would you like to go to get something to eat and figure out what we're going to put in this report?" McCall was still puzzling over Malone's parting remark. Why had she made a point of wishing them luck? How much did she know about what had been going? "I'm not really hungry," she replied, when his question filtered through her preoccupation. "Why don't we just do the report, then drop me off at my house." She wanted work out of the way before they started to talk about anything. Realizing what she was thinking, he agreed. "Good idea."
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.
Chapter 10
Megan was hovering anxiously by their desks when they stepped off the elevator. "The surveillance paid off," she informed them, without preamble. "Suzy's on the move. She's on foot, carrying a suitcase. She's going to Streiber." Malone sounded so certain, but McCall wasn't so sure. It was all a little too obvious. Before she could voice her doubts a uniformed officer whose name she could never remember handed her a sheet of paper. It was the phone list she had asked for. Now things made much more sense. Suzy, it seemed, had called a sleaze-bag ex-paramedic named Rydell. The Lieutenant was not impressed by this information. "We can follow that up later. She's leading us now to Streiber." McCall looked to her partner for support, realizing with a jolt how much she had missed knowing that he would back her opinions, even when he didn't believe them himself. This week seemed to have been achingly long. "I don't think so," she told Malone. "I think this suitcase deal is one of the oldest tricks in the book." "So what do you suggest?" Malone's sharp tone suggested she didn't like being contradicted. "I think we've got to sweat Rydell, and we've got to do it now." Hunter stepped in, seeing Malone was not swayed yet. "I think she's right." Dee Dee didn't fail to notice that he had moved fractionally away from Malone, as if subconsciously taking sides. "We should go for Rydell." "You know, after all this work, you could miss the bust." "Well, I don't think so." "OK," she conceded, "I'll keep my people on Suzy." As they turned and headed back to the elevator, she felt Hunter's hand slip into it's customary place against the small of her back. She almost grinned with the sudden, heady feeling that all was right with the world again. "You got Rydell's address there?" he asked, leaning forward over her shoulder. "Yeah, but he spends most of his time at a bar in Pico. We should try there first." She felt, rather than saw his nod of agreement.
Rydell was staggering out of the bar when they caught up with him. Hunter grabbed his arm, steering him towards the car and McCall. Wha's goin' on here?" he demanded blearily, as if thinking he was being mugged. McCall flashed her badge in his face. He was so drunk he probably couldn't read it anyway. "How badly do you want to stay out of jail, Rydell?" she demanded. "Huh?" "It's real simple, Larry," explained Hunter. "You tell us where we can find Nick Streiber, and we'll forget we ever met you. Otherwise, you can look forward to a nice stretch for practising medicine without a license. Among other things." "Who? I don't know ." "OK. McCall, read him his rights." "No! Wait! He's in a motel, on the corner of Crenshaw Boulevard and West Olympic." McCall waved to him as they tore away. "Such a nice, helpful man."
They parked in the alley behind the Caldwell Motel. Hunter headed for the manager's office while McCall called in their Code 6 location. As she spoke she could down the alley, onto Olympic Boulevard. At the newsstand across the street a familiar figure was browsing. The bulky profile and long greasy hair was unmistakable. Grabbing the mike again she requested backup, then took off down the alley. Hunter was on his way the stairs when she called his name and he saw her sprint past. Following behind, he soon saw then reason for her rush. Streiber had also heard her call. Nervously he looked around and saw two people running down the alley towards him. Recognizing them as the two cops he'd given the slip five days earlier, he began shoving people aside, cradling his wounded shoulder, and lumbered in the direction of Wilshire. Ducking down another side alley, he lead them into yet another disused warehouse. With an apprehensive glance at each other, Hunter and McCall followed him in. Personally, Hunter felt he had spent more than enough time empty warehouses recently. Cautiously they made their way up a stair case, only to be met by a volley of gun shots. Backing down the steps into cover they considered their next move. The warehouse had no other exits on the ground floor - the large stairwell to their left was the only course he could have taken. In the distance they could hear the insistent wail of police sirens coming closer. Backup was arriving. A ladder leaning against one wall gave Hunter an idea. Crouched on the stairs he explained his plan to McCall. "Got it?" With a nod she set off. As she began to slowly and quietly ascend the stairs, Hunter took the ladder and put it up against the wall. Just as he'd though, it reached the third level, which should put him ahead of McCall, and just behind Streiber. He clattered noisily up the next flight of stairs, hoping that Streiber could hear him. Passing the fire escape, he didn't notice the bulky shadow lurking out on the balcony, but his instincts twitched, sensing that Streiber was close. A shot rang out and he whirled around. Streiber was standing ten feet behind him, in the doorway of the fire escape. At the foot of the flight of stairs stood McCall, gun trained on Streiber. Her shot had struck him in the back of a meaty thigh, preventing him from getting off his own shot into Hunter's back. Trapped between them, but refusing to surrender, Streiber swung between the two of them, like an enraged bull uncertain of which to target first. Ignoring Hunter's command to drop his gun he decide on McCall. Before he could fire, Hunter's shot caught him in the ribs, and sent him stumbling back onto the fire escape where to teetered momentarily on the edge. Hunter got there just in time to see him hit the pavement below. McCall joined him a moment later. They watched as two uniformed officers checked the body then called for the ME's wagon. As they turned to leave their gazes locked. There was still so much to be said, and they were both anxious to do so, but it would have to wait a bit longer. There were still reports to be made and paperwork to be filed.
Lieutenant Malone arrived with the rest of the backup, somewhat miffed at having missed out on the bust herself. But she was willing to be gracious in defeat - Nick Streiber would be ripping off no more stores. As the activity wound down Malone decided it was time to head back to her own division and make out her report. She said goodbye to Hunter and McCall, wishing them luck. Hunter looked at his watch. It was after seven, and he hadn't eaten since breakfast. "Where would you like to go to get something to eat and figure out what we're going to put in this report?" McCall was still puzzling over Malone's parting remark. Why had she made a point of wishing them luck? How much did she know about what had been going? "I'm not really hungry," she replied, when his question filtered through her preoccupation. "Why don't we just do the report, then drop me off at my house." She wanted work out of the way before they started to talk about anything. Realizing what she was thinking, he agreed. "Good idea."