"We're here."
"What? How do you know?"
"I can feel it Starsk, I know she's in there." Hutch had the car door open and had just set both feet on the ground when Starsky's hand caught his elbow.
"Alright, so suppose you're right and April is in there. What about the kidnappers? They're not just gonna let us waltz in there and rescue that little girl. We gotta think this through, Hutch."
Hutch willed his body to settle for a moment. "You gotta plan?"
"We should call it in."
"I'm not waiting."
"I didn't say we would."
Hutch sighed softly and turned back towards the building. "Do it."
Starsky smiled and patted Hutch's shoulder before picking up the radio handset. As he put in the request for back up, Hutch studied the run-down building, absent-mindedly rubbing his left temple. The building stood five stories tall with an old, rusted iron fire escape snaking it's way up the building's side. Nearly all the windows were either cracked or broken and some were replaced with vandalized plywood. The sun glittered upon the broken glass that surrounded the base of the old warehouse. The bricks were cracked and crumbling and the whole place looked like it should have been condemned twice by now.
Three crows exploded out of a top-story window.
Hutch snorted. Make that three times.
Hutch was barely aware of the silence that hung over the Torino until Starsky spoke up. "There's gonna be a couple of uniforms headed this way. If we find anything, we're to report it to Captain Dobey."
"Great," Hutch replied. "Let's go."
Hutch was out of the vehicle before Starsky could open his door. He looked up and down the empty street, assuring himself that they were alone. Satisfied, Hutch made his way across the sidewalk and closer to the building, feeling the weight of his gun bumping against his ribs as he moved. Starsky was behind him quickly and silently, and his presence was reassuring and welcome. Together they moved around the corner of the building and out of plain view. Now in the narrow alleyway between two towering buildings, Hutch suddenly felt very small.
His hands scraped against the rough, sandy brick as Hutch slid against the side of the building. There was a window up ahead, so dirty that the glass was no longer reflective. He would have to get very close in order to see through it. Glass from what was once a window above his head crunched softly under his feet, muted by the old newspapers and debris that littered the alley. Starsky was on his heels and staying very quiet.
Hutch paused before the window and took a breath before crouching low, almost sinking to his knees in order to peer through the window just above the sill. His fingertips landed in crusted bird waste and chipped paint as Hutch tried to steady himself and make out any images through the opaque glass.
"See anything?"
Starsky's low murmur reminded Hutch to breath. He blinked rapidly and squinted, then rubbed on the window with the edge of his sleeve. The window pane creaked with the pressure, but through the small clearing Hutch could just make out the shape of multiple, large wooden shipping crates.
A stab of pain sliced through his brain as the sight before him matched the image he had dreamed. Hutch lost his hold on the window sill and dropped to the ground with a small cry.
"Hey!" Starsky's startled exclamation was just above a whisper as he lunged forward and eased Hutch to the concrete. "You alright? What did you see?"
Hutch shook his head, both in a signal for Starsky to slow down and in an attempt to lessen the pain. He squeezed his eyes shut against the sunlight for a moment until the world slowed and began to spin at it's normal speed again. When he opened his eyes, Starsky was knelt before him and looking at Hutch like a brother instead of a partner.
"I'm okay," Hutch said and locked one elbow underneath him as he fought to get up.
"You're far from okay," Starsky retorted, hoisting Hutch up by the arm and resting him against the building. "We should leave and let someone else handle this."
"It's our case!" Hutch snapped, jerking himself free of Starsky's grip. "I'll be fine."
Starsky's eyes flashed with pain before he riposted, "What is going on? And not with your head- why is this case so important to you? What aren't you telling me here?"
Hutch sighed. Regret clawed in his belly and he knew he would share his story with Starsky soon, but now was not the time. "I'm sorry buddy, I really am. I didn't mean to snap like that." He looked around, making sure they had not been found out. "But this really isn't the best time to go into all that, okay?"
Starsky sat back a little and very obviously in reluctance, nodded curtly. "As soon as this is over, I want an explanation."
"You'll get one Starsk, you'll get one."
Hutch could feel Starsky's eyes on him before he asked, "So what's in there?"
"Nothing. Just some boxes I saw in my dream."
"That's spooky."
Hutch huffed. "Tell me about it."
"What do you wanna do?"
Hutch ran a hand through his sun-warmed hair and looked into Starsky's eyes. "I'm gonna save a little girl's life."
"Me and thee," Starsky smiled, resting a hand on Hutch's knee.
Hutch pulled himself up and turned around, once more peering through the window. This time he was prepared for the pain in his head and was able to remain on his feet as he searched the warehouse's dim interior. The room was expansive and bare support beams made the place look all the more abandoned. Black wires hung from the ceiling and dusty beer bottles lay scattered around the floor in one corner. A puddle of something dark lay ominously just a few feet from the window, as if a sharp-fanged shadow monster would spring from it's depths if anyone came too close. There were no signs of recent activity, but that detail was not enough to deter Hutch.
"We gotta go in. I can't see anything from out here."
"Let's move around back."
Starsky's suggestion sounded from behind him, much like the voice of his own consciousness on his shoulder. He nodded and led Starsky past the window, deeper into the alley. The brick buildings on either side seemed to grow taller, swallowing the detectives as they crept to the end of the warehouse and stopped before the rusted chain link fence that stood before them. Windblown debris had collected here, along with several small boxes and crates. Age had started to peel the chain link away from it's frame, and Hutch easily finished the job. Without a glance backwards, he slid through the narrow opening.
A crow cawed from it's perch high above them. Starsky and Hutch rounded the corner of the warehouse and were now creeping along the building's rear. They were on the border of a small clearing, perhaps big enough to fit two or three cars. Tufts of dandelions sprouted from the cracks in the cement, stubbornly refusing to give way to the shadows and neglect. The air itself was cooler back here, as the small space was totally shaded by the surrounding buildings. As Hutch spotted a window and crept forwards to it, Starsky moved off in another direction.
"Hey, check this out," Starsky called softly, kneeling on the cement.
Hutch changed his path and kneeled beside his partner. "What is that?" he asked, watching as Starsky dipped his fingers into something shiny.
Starsky held up two fingers, dotted with brown liquid. "Oil," he announced. "Fresh car oil."
"Someone's been here."
"Someone might still be here," Starsky added, wiping his fingers on the cement.
Hutch retrieved his gun. The metal had been heated by his body and it felt comfortable in his grip. Starsky mimicked the action.
Using only hand signals and the ability to read each other's minds, they made their way back to the building and stood pressed against the wall. An arm's length away was a window, and a little ways after that was a solid wooden door. Hutch slid forward, gun pointed at the sky, and rolled his shoulders against the brick until he could just see into the window.
Before he was sure what he was even looking at, it vanished.
Hutch jerked backwards. "Something's in there," he announced, not bothering to whisper any more.
Starsky moved forward with a question on his lips, just as the door burst open with a loud crack.
Hutch flinched and half a second later brought his gun out before him.
He was half a second too late.
Three men stood planted before them, each one brandishing their own, bigger gun and aiming at the detective's chests. The tallest, lithe man in the center had a crazy look in his eye, but it was something else that made Hutch's heart go still.
It was the man's fiery red hair, which stood out in sharp contrast to the bleakness around the five men.
He was looking into the face of Starsky's killer.
"Drop 'em, boys," Red ordered with a cocky grin. The thugs on either side remained silent but menacing.
Hutch's gun fell heavily from his numb fingers. A few seconds later, he heard Starsky's weapon clatter to the ground as well.
"Keep those hands up," Red said, enunciating with an upwards jerk of his gun. The nearly-identical thugs approached and roughly searched the detectives, nearly knocking Hutch off balance. When his badge was confiscated and held up for Red to see, he turned angry eyes to the detectives. "Cops? That's just great. Does anyone know you're here?"
The thugs took a step back and retrained their guns on Starsky and Hutch.
"Well?" Red demanded, taking a step closer.
"No. We came alone."
Red looked at Starsky. "You came alone," he repeated doubtfully.
"Yeah, we just got out to have a look around. We never expected to find anything."
Red studied Starsky a moment longer before turning towards Hutch. "Is he lying to me?"
Hutch shook his head. "Sorry to disappoint you." He forced himself to stop trembling and take a breath. It would be so much easier to think if the pounding in his head would ease, but Hutch was well aware of the fact that he had better things to worry about right now. If they were lucky and this nutcase didn't shoot them right here, they might have a chance of finding April. He had to remain calm and pretend he was wasn't so afraid.
Hutch watched as the slightly shorter of the two thugs retrieved the discarded guns and pocketed them. When the muscle man smiled sadistically at Hutch, the detective turned his gaze back to Red.
"Well I guess this just isn't your lucky day, is it?" Red laughed.
"Where's the little girl," Starsky demanded quickly.
Red faltered for a moment and the motion struck Hutch as very strange. Why else would they be here, if they had not known about the girl? What other crimes was this man wanted for?
"Don't worry, she's in a safe place," Red replied cryptically.
"You better not have touched her," Starsky growled, sounding awful threatening for a man being held at gunpoint.
"I'd be worried about yourself, detective," Red shot back. "I don't take kindly to strangers- to cops snooping around my place."
A crow landed silently on the balcony of the adjacent building. Hutch studied Red and disliked the confidence of the man's posture. "So kill us now and get it over with. It's getting hot."
Red laughed. "A sense of humor! And from a cop at the wrong end of a gun no less! Whaddya think about that, boys?"
The thugs chuckled in response, but obviously did not share Red's enthusiasm.
"I ain't gonna kill you boys just yet. I think you'll be coming in handy." Red looked to the thugs and motioned them forward. "Let's talk things over inside, okay?"
Hutch took a step backwards as the thugs approached. He could feel Starsky tense up beside him, silently waiting for a cue that they should fight.
They were outnumbered. Even if they did manage to overcome the armed thugs, that still left Red and his gun, who would probably open fire as soon as they made one wrong move. Hutch stopped and held his ground, giving silent surrender. He would, however, defend himself against being manhandled.
Behind him, Starsky mimicked his actions.
"Good boys," Red praised, seeing that the detectives were allowing themselves to be taken. "But I still don't trust you."
One second later, the closest goon brought the butt of his gun down against the back of Hutch's head.
The world turned silent and black.