Thanks to all of you who've been waiting behind their computers for this update. You know who you are.
Okay, I won't keep you in suspense any longer. Enjoy.
Chapter 16
"Now, I know at least one of you remembers this." A cruel smile formed upon Karl's lips as he pulled out a small dope kit from his inside pocket. He opened it, clearly showing the equipment necessary to string a person out.
"You dirty bastard." Starsky said, his words containing a bitter anger. He felt Hutch tense up.
The smile on Karl's face faded as he did not get the reaction from the blond he'd anticipated. Nothing in Hutch's demeanour showed any signs of noticeable shock. Just the icy stare.
But Starsky saw quite a different feature when he had torn his angry stare away from Karl to look at his partner. He saw a slightly paling face. And when he locked eyes, deep within the ocean blues, a small pool of fear connected with him.
There was only one thing stronger than the brunet's instinct for survival, and that was his fierce protectiveness over Hutch. Before Karl's man could even have hoped to stop the enraged man, Starsky had dived forwards, awarding Forest with two connecting fists, one across his face, while the other one knocked the kit out of his hands.
Hutch immediately went for Michaels, but froze mid step when a 9 mm was staring him in the face.
"Hold it or he buys it," Michaels ordered the brunet, keeping his gun trained on Hutch.
Starsky, having Karl's arm locked around the back, let him go.
The man shrugged his arm free and turned around. His eyes were blazing with a cold fire while his cheekbone was beginning to colour a sickly yellow as he put his face inches from the brunet's.
The dark haired Detective, whose hatred for the man would've made a lesser man crumble beneath his stare didn't move an inch. When he saw Hutch slowly raising his hands, backing away from the gun, Starsky broke eye contact with Karl, not showing any signs of defeat in the least.
"Hold him Donalds!" Karl shouted angry at the agent still standing behind the brunet. Donalds viciously pulled his hands behind his back.
"You'll never get away with this, Karl!" Starsky snapped. "Kidnapping two cops ain't exactly bright. But I guess it's a family trait. Your brother wasn't all too bright either. He had to figure that out the hard way."
Karl picked up the kit from the floor. He straightened himself while looking at the big mouthed Detective. A cold voice, devoid of any emotion returned the kindness. "Oh, you're so right. My brother was stupid. He only got one cop." He turned to the blond who was standing near the cot.
Hutch looked from the gun to the kit, and finally into Karl's eyes.
Starsky felt dread replacing the anger in the pit of his stomach as Forest continued.
"I got two." Karl stepped forwards.
Hutch took an involuntary step backwards.
Michaels stepped in, cutting off the blond's escape route.
Starsky tried to pull free. "You lousy excuse for a creep!" His anger was fighting battles with his fear, the outcome being a couple of spitfire indigo eyes, and an almost successful attempt to break free. However, Donalds at once tightened his hold over him, making his arms feel as if they were encased in concrete. "I'll hunt you down Karl, if it's the last thing I'll do!"
He locked eyes with Hutch who'd taken another step back, fear becoming apparent in each step he made. Once again Starsky tried to wrench free, but to no avail, succeeding only in nearly pulling his arms out of its sockets.
Karl nodded at the Sumo standing a little off to the side. The large man stepped forwards to grab Hutch, roughly pushing him down onto the cot. The gun, now trained on Starsky, kept the blond from attempting any kind of a struggle.
With a bitter taste in his mouth the brunet was forced to watch how his partner had to resign himself to Karl's wishes. Until the Sumo pulled out the blind fold… and Hutch went ballistic.
"No!" he exclaimed, voicing a deep guttural sound originating from deep within. Strong as an ox when he wanted to be, the blond lashed out at the surprised Sumo.
Hutch's fear wrecked Starsky to the core, but he couldn't move. He couldn't do anything.
Michaels had lowered the gun in order to help the Sumo restrain the now frantic Detective. After a short struggle they managed to put on the blindfold. Finally they had him silenced. Hutch's muscles were trembling underneath the restraining iron fists, his heavy breathing breaking the still air.
Starsky pressed his lips together in anger. This was exactly how they'd managed to inject him the first time. Hutch, reluctantly at first had finally told him about it. He was not going to let it happen a second time. Not while he, Starsky, was alive and breathing.
Karl had pulled out the needle to fill it with the content of the vial. Michaels wrenched the blond's left arm free, pulling up the sleeves of the black and white shirt, and the green shirt underneath. Karl professionally settled the needle just above the vein.
All of sudden a cold voice shattered the air, "Don't touch him."
The words echoed off the bare brick walls, and back into the hollow cell.
Karl stopped the needle from going in. A smug smile appeared on his face. "Oh?"
"Give it to me."
"Starsk." Hutch's head snapped up.
Ignoring the blond, Karl turned around to face the brunet, while holding up the syringe. "This is pretty new stuff. It's never been tested before.
"Give," Starsky stated cold, his voice devoid of all emotion.
"Starsky, what are you doing?" Hutch hissed. Though he couldn't see a thing, he faced straight into his partner's direction.
Karl's smile grew wider as he obviously enjoyed the blond's distress at this new turn of events. Waving his hand, he allowed Michaels to remove the blind fold.
Starsky's eyes flashed over to his partner's teary ones. I'm doing this for you, buddy. Don't try to stop me.
Hutch opened his mouth to say something but Starsky quickly looked away. His mind was set. He rolled up his sleeve, putting out his arm.
"No, you can't! Dammit, Starsky!"
Hutch's hoarse voice penetrated the Detective's determination, but he managed to ignore it as he spoke up, the bitterness dripping from his words, "Just don't touch him.
Karl's frozen laugh and stone grey eyes were momentarily fixed on Starsky's midnight blues. Then he stepped in closer, grabbing the raised arm. Slowly he put the needle in. "You know," he said, whispering into the brunet's ear, while pushing the drug slowly into the vein. "This stuff will make you forget… everything, literally."
"No," Hutch shook his head, his voice devoid of all energy as Michaels, Donalds and the Sumo backed away, "Starsk."
Karl pulled the needle out. "Before the hour is up, you're gonna wish it was your partner we injected." He smiled. He nodded at his men. Quietly, they all left the room.
The door closed behind them. Silence fell.
Starsky stood very still. Then he slowly started to shake from head to toe. "Hutch," he whispered. He felt Hutch's arms supporting him, just a few seconds before the world went black.
"You okay?"
"Do I look okay?" Starsky answered gruffly as Hutch helped him to sit up on the cot. "How long was I out?"
"Fifteen minutes… Starsk, what d' you have to do that for, huh?"
Swallowing a couple of times, the brunet tried to get rid of the dizziness which had somehow manifested itself as soon as he'd sat up straight. "I don't know, it seemed to be-"
"A good idea at the time, yeah, yeah," Hutch finished, gently holding on to his partner.
Starsky gave a deep sigh. "It's not too bad, as long as I don't try anything fancy… Like move." He looked at his partner's worried face. "I'm all right, for now, really."
Hutch led his hand slide from his partner's shoulder as he stood up. "The man said an hour, Starsk." He started to pace the floor of the basement in frustration. "One hour… that's how long I've got to get you out of here."
"Hutch," he recognized the blond's mood. Gone was the silent resignation. The fighter within had taken control. It was a part of his partner which Starsky didn't see often, which he never enjoyed seeing. It was a reckless part which would stop at nothing to save the brunet, even if it would cost the blond his life, and that was what frightened Starsky the most.
He remembered the time when he'd been poisoned by Vic Bellamy. When they'd chased him up to that roof, Hutch had simply refused to fire. If Starsky hadn't followed them up there…
God, he hated to think about what would have happened. Images of doom scenarios were still haunting him at times. If there was anything worse than knowing he was going to be dead in a few hours, or than the pain the poison was putting him through, it would be to watch his friend die. The choice was his to make back then. Now, he wasn't so sure. "What do you know about this drug?"
His partner stopped his frantic pacing, only to slam his fist into the wood of the door.
"Hutch."
"It's a drug containing compounds used for brainwashing. Lab checked it out as being highly destructive on the mind, especially the long term memory."
"Meaning what, exactly?"
The blond turned to face his partner, for a moment looking quite vulnerable. "Starsky, it means it'll wipe your memory clean."
Starsky stared at him before softly asking his next question. "To what level?"
Hutch took a few seconds before levelling with his partner. "They couldn't tell me, whether it's just the memories or… something more."
"More?" The brunet's voice sounded smaller by the second.
"Like Karl said, it's never been tested."
"Well," Starsky managed to say. "At least I'll still be alive."
A silence fell between them.
Starsky's own words from an hour ago came back to mind. Nothing can get to us, as long as this connection we seem to be having is there. Focussing on those words, and putting his trust in them, he felt slightly better.
A noise coming from behind the door made both man turn towards it simultaneously.
"Is someone there?" Hutch called. The soft sound of moving feet made him try again. "Hello?"
"It's me, remember me?"
"It's that kid," Starsky whispered urgently. "The one you gave the money to for the flowers."
"Yeah," Hutch spoke gently. "Yeah, I remember you. What's your name?" He moved closer to the door.
"Tommy."
"Tommy, you think you can help us get out of this room?"
"I'm not supposed to talk to you, but you can have this."
Something small was shoved underneath the wood of the door. Hutch picked it up, showing it to the brunet: a pocket-knife. He was about to thank the boy when the lack of sound indicated Tommy had already left.
"Now, how do you suppose he got here?" Hutch asked.
"You think Karl just took him?"
"They wouldn't have let him run around free if he was their prisoner, Starsk."
"No, I suppose not. I guess Helen hasn't been quite honest with us about her connections … to … Karl," Starsky stammered as a feeling of vertigo suddenly hit him.
Hutch frowned, before quietly walking over to sit down next to him. "Hey, are you all right?"
The brunet was unable to answer for a second as everything seemed fuzzy. He felt Hutch pulling him in. Starsky let him. The warmth did him good driving out some of that stone cold feeling which seemed to freeze his insides, the dizziness lifted. "Yeah, 'm okay… 'm okay."
"Hang in there buddy," Hutch soothed, and then gently let him go to walk over to the door. "We'll be out of here in no time."
After a couple of minutes, Starsky started to feel slightly better. He was about to stand up when his vision suddenly blurred. In reflex he grabbed his head with both hands as vertigo was washing over him again in slow unrelenting waves.
God, this was bad.
The waves suddenly subsided, leaving a tight feeling behind his ears and eyes. He carefully removed his hands to look up and froze.
Where the hell was he? The cold dark, damp room didn't resemble anything familiar; and the man by the door…"
A feeling suddenly stirred, strong, powerful, snapping angrily back in place.
Starsky almost forgot to breathe as he recognized his surroundings again. He looked up at Hutch, thoroughly shaken as in that one horrible moment the drug's full ugly potential had shown itself.
It wasn't just erasing the memory… It was lashing onto his feelings, his emotions, and it went deep, touching something which had angrily struck back, which he hadn't even known was there, his soul, his very being… and his connection to Hutch.
"Hutch," he whispered.
Chapter 17
Hutch, who was busy trying to unlock the door with the boy's pocket knife, gave the brunet a quick look. He ceased what he was doing when he saw the stricken look on his partner's face.
"I forgot…" Starsky couldn't help but feel utterly confused and suddenly something happened that hadn't happen to him in years. Panic set in. "I forgot … who you were," he continued with a slight tremble in his voice.
Hutch walked over to him, determination obvious in every step. "I'm not going anywhere," he spoke softly, touching the brunet's hand in comfort.
Looking up, Starsky suddenly felt the reassuring feelings those words usually evoked slip. "No… oh God… Hutch," grunting he closed his eyes and opened them again, only to look into a pair of blue eyes he had never seen before.
He jerked his hand back.
"Starsk… fight it. Come on."
Feelings were racing, colliding, coursing through his body as Starsky fought to keep his identity, his life, his very soul from drowning. He fought… hard, until he began to recognize the eyes again. Tears were streaming down his face, he started to shake, uncontrollably and found his partner grabbing hold of both his hands.
"You're with me?" Hutch asked hoarse.
Starsky nodded.
"Come on, I cracked the door." He pulled the brunet up from the cot, bent on getting him out of here.
They got as far as the corridor when two men suddenly came into view. Hutch didn't give them a chance.
Baffled, Starsky looked at the two unconscious men, their weapons lying useless next to them on the floor. "Remind me never to cross you when you're angry," He said, slightly bemused.
Hutch returned the attempted humor with a wry smile, throwing his partner a gun, and taking one for his own, taking the extra clips he found in the man's pant pocket with him. "You still know how to use this, don't you?" He asked hesitantly.
"There are some things you never forget," the brunet replied.
They both stood in silence for a moment as Starsky was focussing on his partner, trying desperately to hold on, and needing every ounce of willpower to do it. He grabbed Hutch's arm. "Hurry," he mumbled.
They ran through the dark, dimly lit corridor until they reached some small stairs. Carefully taking the concrete steps one at the time, they emerged into a wide open storage space of what seemed to be an abandoned factory. A large rusty, iron shipping arm loomed overhead. Old rotten crates were stacked to the side. Starsky squinted as he turned his head towards the two wide open hangar doors, letting in the white glare of sharp, clear daylight just a few dozen meters away from them.
Keeping to the sides, they started to make their way towards it. They were only halfway, when a shot echoed through the facility.
His police instinct made the brunet dive behind a small pile of crates along with his partner.
Heaving, he noticed Karl's men were running over the iron walkway located all along the inner rim of the storage area, two stories from the ground. The footsteps of their assailants bouncing of the grid created a cold iron sound which seemed to be coming from all around them. The men headed for the iron ladders to work their way down to ground level.
Time seemed to run out. Starsky acted on instinct and experience, pulling back towards the doors as the FBI Agents and half a dozen Sumos started to close them in. They were forced to return fire as bullets bounced of the crates, indicating near misses at him and Hutch.
Hutch changed the empty clip. Starsky saw the blond carrying a look of fierce determination in his eyes as he fired again to keep the Sumos of their backs. Then the feelings got confused. Why was this stranger defending him?
He closed his eyes momentarily, then opened them, remembering, feeling, recognizing again. The brunet shook his head, trying to clear it, trying not to loose his center.
He looked up. "Hutch, get down!" Starsky pulled him to the ground just in time as one of the men nearly got his partner square in the back. Deadly accurate, he shot the assailant in the shoulder.
With a sinking feeling he realized the Sumos were ignoring him, again.
Hutch started to sweat as the man came in from all around them.
They were close to the exit now. The door was still clear. But the blond wasn't a fool, he knew walking out of here unharmed was going to be a problem, having noticed from the very beginning that the fire was focused mainly on him. Karl obviously thought Starsky wasn't too much of a threat anymore as the drug must surely be kicking in soon.
From his covered position behind one of the crates, he shot bullet after bullet. Looking sideways he saw his partner doing the same. "Starsky!" he yelled, more as a statement than as a question.
Starsky shot him a glance, strength had returned in his eyes for the moment. "What?" he asked distracted.
"Get out!"
"What?" Bewildered the brunet stopped shooting.
"You heard me!" Hutch yelled again. He had to get his partner out of here. He couldn't let Forest have his way. He couldn't let him get his hands on the brunet again… ever."
"Are you crazy?" Starsky yelled fiercely, moving over to grab Hutch's shoulder, and angrily jerking him around to face him. Hutch, who'd still been firing, suddenly found himself looking into his partner's eyes. The blue fire locked within them, seemed to flare up as Starsky spoke again, punctuating every word. "They're gonna kill you!"
Hutch looked at him for a moment. "Starsk…" he whispered.
Then the hailstorm of bullets intensified. With force, born out of desperate determination, Hutch threw Starsky off of him towards the doors. Starsky stumbled backwards, taken by surprise he nearly tripped over his own feet, almost crashing into a crate.
Hutch darted over to another crate, away from his partner. "GET… OUT!" he yelled again, feeling a familiar sting in his eyes. But he couldn't give in to that, not now. From somewhere he found the strength to fire again. The return fire on his position was deafening, drowning everything out.
Starsky did not want to leave his partner, who had moved a dozen feet away from him, drawing in all the fire. Desperate now, he tried to get back to him "HUTCH, NO! I WON"T LET YOU DO THIS! DAMMIT… HUTCH!"
Bullets intended to keep the two men separated, forced him back. Starsky fired as he couldn't help but being forced towards the door. "HUTCH!" panic set in as he saw his partner fighting a loosing battle.
He took a step forwards, but suddenly his whole world turned upside down as the drug kicked in. The sudden memory loss stalled him, halted him in his tracks. He groaned, swallowing away the overwhelming nausea, desperately trying to hold on to his partner's voice, to the words he kept hearing, get out!
In the midst of his confusion, one of the men got a clear shot… and fired.
Starsky saw his partner go down. It jolted his feelings, his heart. "NO!" He fired, taking out the man who'd shot his partner.
Hutch was down on his knees, still firing. The image locked itself inside Starsky's brain as he started to forget. He couldn't hold on. When he saw his partner being shot a second time, his feelings reared up one more time, before locking themselves away as the drug steadfastly went on with its destructive job.
It was like stepping out of a picture, like turning off the television. Standing by the doors in a firing position, Starsky stood stock still as he groped for fleeing images: Images of laughter, of people, of Bay City; Images of fear, of Terri and of Hutch, Hutch holding on to him when he was poisoned. Words, emotions, they hit him hard before fluttering away.
Starsk… fight it, come on…
I'd never leave you and you know it!
They got to me the first time, Starsk…
The image of a daisy…
The connection between him and Hutch stirred, fought and lost. And he never felt its presence as profoundly as he did then, right before it snapped.
He never would have guessed it would hurt so much…
He realized he was crying, but he didn't know why anymore. Slowly he backed away from the alien scene in front of him, from everything that he was. Forgetting, loosing his memories, his family, his partnership. For a moment images flared in his mind. But they disappeared, until there was nothing left.
Tbc
