Hi all,

Thanks for reading and (hopefully) enjoying this chapter. I will try to get the next chapter out real soon.

Thanks again going out to the Usual Suspects.

Special thanks to Kreek for letting me use her idea of using italics for 'flashback' scenes.

Chapter 7

Hutch was only able to doze in spurts. The rest of the time was spent trying not to think about how thirsty and cold he was. He flexed his muscles, bunching and relaxing them in an effort to stay warm. He didn't bother to try to get comfortable. There was no chance of that happening. He knew he had a few ticks on him. He had tried to brush them off before they burrowed in behind his ears, but with his arms around the tree, it was impossible. He tried hard not to think about the small tickles and itching sensations the insects made as they moved through his hair. Their bites would be nearly painless, just as nature designed it.

He had rubbed his head on the tree in an attempt to rid himself of the bugs and noticed that the tree had a vanilla smell to it. He sniffed it again, yep, it was vanilla, that the tree was most likely a ponderosa pine… so that meant that he must be somewhere in the Rocky Mountains at an elevation of around 7,000 to 10,000 feet. 'Oh yeah, that really narrows down my location' He thought sarcastically as he put his head back down onto his outstretched arms, suppressing yet another shiver from the cool night air.

He had just drifted off to an uneasy sleep when he was awakened to the feel of someone putting their hand over his mouth and nose, the grip was hard and firm, his air was cut off. Hutch reflexively struggled and tried to break free when Agent Ruth whispered quietly into his ear "hold still, say nothing". Hutch stopped struggling, but remained tensed, ready to struggle again if necessary, for all of the good it would do. To his relief, the hand was removed, as was his gag, which stuck to his dry tongue, Ruth pulled the sodden mess out of his mouth.

"Sit up"

The words were very quiet and whispered directly into his ear. Then the agent pulled the detective upright and nearly into his lap. Hutch stiffened and tried to pull away, but he just didn't have much leverage. He was barely able to move for now his arms were pulled tightly around the tree, putting an incredible strain on his joints and ligaments. The metal handcuffs dug in mercilessly into his wrists.

He turned his head to look at the agent before remembering that he was blind. He started to open his mouth to ask 'why?' when the rim of the canteen touched his dry lips. Water was poured into his mouth and he drank as quickly as he could, half fearful he would choke if he didn't and half concerned about ever getting another chance to drink.

"That's enough" The agent whispered as he took the canteen away and nudged Hutch forward, back towards the tree, the stress on the blond's arms was instantly eased. The agent brought up the disgusting gag and put it to Hutch's lips.

"Why?" Hutch whispered quickly before the gag was once more lodged in his mouth. He fought with his gag reflex as the agent tied the gag tightly behind his head. The agent must have set the gag directly on the ground because now it had dirt and a few pine needles on it. He had to carefully breathe though his nose several times to keep from vomiting.

The agent paused before moving back to his sleeping bag "Just hedging my bets"

Hutch saw the sense in that. He didn't trust Colby either. It had to be even more difficult if he were in the agent's shoes. Not that he ever would be. But why didn't Ruth just kill Colby? Than again, why didn't Colby just kill Ruth? What kind of game were they playing with each other? Or was it just business, or criminal code? Or perhaps Manahan needed the FBI agent and had forbidden Colby to kill him… Hutch shook his head. The way the criminal mind worked was beyond him sometimes. He put his head down and tried again to get some sleep.

XXXX

A hard kick to his legs brought him out of the few moments of sleep he had managed to get. Hutch opened his eyes and found that his world was still black. He closed them again. He hated being blind. It reminded him of his days of captivity at the hands of Ben Forest's men. He was in a similar circumstance now. He was at the total mercy of his captors. Being blind made it much worse. If by some chance he got away, where would he go? Another rough kick took him out of those thoughts and into the situation at hand. His only goal today was to live to 'see' tomorrow. He snorted to himself as he awkwardly sat up.

One wrist was un-cuffed and he gingerly brought his arms back to his sides. Both of them tingled and burned as they awoke from their 'sleep' as the blood rushed through them. He bit back a groan. He would not be showing his captors any sign of weakness. He clumsily rubbed at his arms trying to ease the hurt and strain of the hours of tension that had been put on them.

Colby spoke "you better take a leak or whatever now; you're not getting a chance later"

Hutch carefully got to his feet and put his hands out in front of him to feel for obstacles in his path. Everything seemed to ache. His hands and knees hurt the worst. Had to be from all of the falling down he had done yesterday. He stopped and removed the gag and dropped it to the ground.

"Hurry up, we ain't got all day!" Colby called after him.

Hutch moved a little further away and did what he had to do behind a large rock he had found by walking into it. It really bothered him that he couldn't tell if he was hidden enough from their sight or not. But they wouldn't have let him completely out of their sight regardless. It was so humiliating.

Hutch walked carefully back towards where he thought the camp was, checking his head for ticks as he did so. He found several behind his ears, as expected. He had nothing to detach them with, and he was reluctant to just pull them off. That would leave the ticks' heads buried in his skin. An unpleasant thought, plus the detached heads could cause infections.

"Hey, where's your gag?"

Hutch shrugged and hoped Colby would just forget about it. But then he heard Ruth say "Got it" Dammit! The blond stood still, not knowing what they wanted. He listened as hard as he could. Someone grabbed his hand and wrapped it around a long stick.

"Ruth, what the hell do you think you're doing? What did you give him that for?" Colby sounded slightly irritated.

"I was hoping that with that stick, he will spend more time on his feet than flat on his face. I wanna get out of these woods before I die of old age" Agent Ruth went over and got the backpack and ordered the detective to put out his arms and put the heavy pack on him.

Hutch took the hint and reluctantly secured the straps of the pack himself. "Hey Hank, I was just wondering if you checked yourself for ticks yet?"

"Ticks?"

"Yeah, the woods are swarming with them… didn't Colby tell you?" Hutch kept his tone innocent.

"Nooo he didn't… what do you know about them?" From the slight change in sound, Hutch could tell that Hank turned his head away, as if he were looking elsewhere… looking at Colby, perhaps?

"Well, I know were to look for them and how to get them off, if you have any on you, that is…" Hutch trailed off. This might be an opportunity to use the agent and possibly stay alive for one more day and maybe put more of a wedge in between Colby and Ruth. He would have to be very careful in how he went about that though, one wrong move and he was a dead man.

"What's in it for you?" The agent sounded suspicious.

"Well, I want any ticks removed from me and I can tell you where to find them on you" Hutch reasoned.

The agent grunted, "Fine"

After explaining where to find the ticks, Hutch told the man how to remove them. It was a relief to get the insects off. The thought of those things sucking his blood simply nauseated him.

"If you ladies are finished…" Colby sounded as calm as ever.

"Right behind you Colby" A shove from Hank was Hutch's cue to begin walking.

It took some trial and error, but Hutch quickly got the hang of using his walking stick, which was nearly as tall as he was. At least he could now spend more time on his feet, which were both a good and a bad thing. Good that he move a little faster so as not to burden them and thereby lose his usefulness, giving them reason to kill him, but bad in the sense that he was moving more quickly to his own likely murder at the hands of John Colby. 'Damned if you do, damned if you don't' he muttered to himself as he trudged along.

While getting the agent to remove the ticks, he had also convinced the man not to replace the gag, at least for now. If he could keep proving his worth to Hank Ruth, he could stay alive for just a while longer. In doing so, perhaps he start to manipulate the agent and perhaps get the Fed to change his mind about killing him. It was the best he could hope for, for now.

XXXX

"In here Mr. Starsky" The Baron called to his anxious companion as he opened the hanger doors. The man wasted more time pacing around. The Baron chuckled to himself as he looked at the detective. The man should really lighten up and try to enjoy life.

"But isn't that your plane over there?" Starsky hooked a thumb at the plane in question.

"That it is, but I was looking over the terrain maps this morning and realized it would be better if we took a copter instead, so I called in a favor and we'll be flying in this baby today" The Baron led the way into the hanger and stopped next to the military green helicopter.

Starsky could feel his mouth dry up and his stomach clenched at the sight. It was a UH-1 Iroquois, better known as a Huey. His knees trembled a bit before he locked them.

"Are you alright Mr. Starsky?" The Baron grabbed the detective's elbow to steady him.

"Yeah, yeah… I'm alright. It's just been a while since I've seen one of these up close" He felt the sweat begin to bead on his forehead. He swiped at it with the cuff of his shirtsleeve.

"Nam?" The Baron asked softly, knowingly.

"Yeah, memories" The response was clipped, his voice strained.

The Baron nodded, he had been there too. "You wanna take the plane instead?"

Starsky briefly fought with himself. They were just memories, things long gone and in the past. Things that were best left there. He focused on the now, he had to look for Hutch. He knew, as the Baron obviously did, that the Huey was the better choice for the job. He wasn't going into war, he wasn't going off to kill; he was on a mission of mercy, he was going to find his friend.

"No, you're right, this is what we need. From what I remember from yesterday, this is the better option, we should be able to get a better view with this, if something catches our eyes, we can hover or even land" Starsky made up his mind. 'Mind over matter, you can do this Davy, just this once, for Hutch'

"Alright then, Mr. Starsky, let's get going" The Baron slapped the detective on the back before opening the door to the Huey, he then climbed in.

"You do know how to fly one of these things, right?" Starsky started around the nose of the copter to the other side. All he could hear then was the Baron laughing at him. It did not make him feel one bit better.

XXXX

Somewhere in the Rocky Mountains

Hutch surreptitiously munched on the small piece of jerky that Hank had snuck him. It wasn't enough. His stomach rumbled nearly constantly and aside from the few covert sips of water the agent had given him, he had not had a substantial drink of water in nearly two days now. His lips started to crack and bleed. The heavily salted jerky wasn't helping either, but his body craved something to eat and to keep going, he had to eat whatever he could.

To take his mind off of his hunger and thirst, he considered Hank Ruth. He knew that he couldn't trust the man any more than he could trust Colby. He was well aware that the only reason Ruth was helping him now was just incase something happened to Colby. Ruth might need his help to survive in the woods.

Colby didn't need either of them… so why didn't he just ditch the both of them? He could move faster by himself. When the three of them, Starsky, Colby and Hutch had been in the academy together, they had also gone on a camping trip. Colby knew what he was doing in the woods. And who knew what he knew now after having been in the Air Force… or was that just another lie?

Hutch racked his brain trying to remember what had been said about Colby's time in the military service at his trial. He couldn't recall anything being said about it. The man was all lies; he had probably lied about that as well.

He tapped the ground in front of him, rather grateful to Hank for having given the stick to him. He knew that the agent was playing both sides of the field. That was a smart move on his part, though Hutch wasn't sure how Colby would take that. They were planning on killing him; both were in agreement about that, so maybe Colby didn't mind.

It was a sure thing that the agent didn't trust Colby. It would be interesting to see how the agent intended to deal with Colby, especially if Colby found out about the agent slipping him food and water. Hutch once more wished he could see. It would be much easier to judge his captors' reactions… not to mention that it would make escaping remotely possible. The blond sighed as he continued to walk. Some things were best not to dwell on.

XXXX

Starsky had to force himself to concentrate on the business of looking for Hutch's plane. They had been searching for hours now. The forest below thinned and thickened below them. The scenery ran together after while, but he kept at it. He tried not to think about his friend being dead. He didn't really think Hutch was dead. He would know it, somehow… wouldn't he?

The Huey made another sudden drop as the air currents rising off the mountains below rose and fell unpredictably. He felt his stomach rise and fall with the copter. One false move by the Baron and it was 'good-bye world' He closed his eyes for just a second as he tried to calm his stomach. It was a good thing that he had not had any breakfast.

"How're you doing Mr. Starsky?" The Baron asked and then added, "You're lookin' a little green over there"

"Just keep this thing in the air" Starsky swallowed hard a couple of times "Please" he put his binoculars up to his eyes again the scanned the tree tops, looking for damage, looking for Hutch. Another day was nearly done, and still no signs or sightings of his friend. Where could he be? He expelled a harsh breath. It was possible that Hutch was nowhere near by. Dammit if the Feds were right about this...

The Huey lurched.

Starsky shot the Baron a tense look.

"Don't worry Mr. Starsky, everything in under control." The Baron shook his head; the curly top was a really nervous flier.

"I smell something" Starsky sniffed the air of the cockpit. He sniffed again "Don't you smell something?" he did not remove his binoculars from his eyes though. He was more worried about missing any signs of Hutch then about his own safety, but it was a very close second.

The Baron sniffed the air, more to humor the detective than anything. "No Mr. Starsky, the air smells fine to me" He chuckled. The man had concerns with planes and even more concerns with helicopters. It was obvious that flying in this copter was reminding the man of his time in Nam. The Baron understood that, he had been there too. Mostly just flying supply runs and such. But he was aware that the Huey was bringing back some unpleasant memories for Mr. Starsky.

It couldn't be helped. This was the only helicopter he could get a hold of on such short notice. He wasn't about to tell the detective that the refurbishing wasn't anywhere near being done on the Huey. Joe had cautioned him that it was a long way from being finished and to use it gently. He had been, but it had been a long day and the air currents and wind had been particularly rough today. The day was nearly over and after one more grid, they would have to head back to the airport for the night.

XXXX

Colby must have moved an ahead a little, for Hank unscrewed the cap of the canteen and gave Hutch another quick drink. He swigged as much down as he could before the agent pulled the container away from him. Swallowing quickly, Hutch asked his question, hoping to get some answers before Colby returned. "Why are you doing this?"

"Giving you a drink? I told you, I'm hedging my bets"

"No, not that, I mean, why do you work for Manahan?"

"Money"

"That's it? Money?"

"Yeah… and a little revenge. Couldn't hurt to tell you why, I guess"

Hutch understood that to mean that he wouldn't be living long enough to tell anyone anyway. He shrugged noncommittally. Hank nudged him; Hutch took the hint and began to walk again, tapping the ground before him with his stick, funny how that had become a habit in such a short period of time. He was ever more grateful that Hank had given him the stick. He listened as the agent began to speak.

"I had a wife and two boys. The damn job kept me away all the time. One day I came home and they were gone. She left me. Took the kids and left. Just like that" He snapped his fingers. "Here I was, busting my ass to make this country a safer place to live and she splits. The bitch… She gets nearly half of my income now. Never lets me see the boys, says I'm not a good influence… what the hell does she know? She remarried. An accountant. An accountant, do you believe that? Says he's more 'stable', that he's there for the boys. We had a beautiful home just outside of DC. I loved that house, I want it back, but I know I can't get it. What I really want are my boys. She can have her damn accountant." The agent muttered something under his breath.

Hutch took the opportunity to ask "So you're only doing this for the money?"

"That and to pay back the FBI for the years I spent years bustin' my ass for them, doing whatever they asked of me… for what? Huh? WHAT? Well, when one of Manahan's men approached me, I jumped at the chance. After this job, I'm gonna visit the boys. Tell her I'm just taking them for ice cream. I've got passports and a Swiss Bank account with a six-figure balance. The bitch won't know what happened till it's too late. We'll be gone. Smoke. She'll never find us."

"Less talkin' and more walkin'" Colby's voice interrupted the agent's monologue.

Hutch had not heard Colby approach. That was bad, for either he had been too absorbed in Hank's rant, or Colby was a lot stealthier then Hutch had expected. He continued walking. He refused to let his aching head and his continued exhaustion hold him back. He just needed more time to figure out how and when to escape. To stay with these two was certain death. Then again, it was most likely certain death to wander the wilderness blind, but if he could stay alive long enough, perhaps someone would find him. He closed his eyes, 'C'mon Starsk old buddy, I hope you're lookin' for me right now… scratch that, I know you're lookin', it's just probably not in the right place… that's not your fault though, just keep looking, that's all I ask'

"Move it Hutchinson" Hank pushed the cop forward with a firm hand.

Hutch heeded the push from behind and sped up as quickly as he dared, refusing to give up just yet. He felt the sun on his face. It must be late afternoon by now. A few more hours and it would be dark and than he could rest. It would feel good. He held onto that feeling. It was all he had.

XXXX

Starsky peered through the binoculars; time was running short on his second day of searching. It had taken a lot to force himself into the Huey. He pushed the memories away, focusing on his task. He smelled it again… it was an electrical smell, like a short or something. The Baron did not seem bothered by it, or maybe couldn't smell it. It didn't linger.

The mountains were green and brown below them. Rather peaceful. The Huey rose unexpectedly and the burning electrical scent wafted by once more, the combination of motion and scent tossed him hard into memories best forgotten…

Shells and bullets shrieked past the Huey, they were under attack. The green of the jungle-covered mountains below them afforded no clear place to land… it didn't matter; it was all hostile territory anyway. He clung to his seat; nine others were in the compartment with him. He looked at them and wondered if he looked as scared as they did. This was one hell of a senior trip courtesy of Uncle Sam, see the world and kill some folks. Happy Graduation!

He gripped his machine gun tightly and prayed harder then he had ever prayed before. A bullet tore through the fuselage between his feet, leaving a small hole in the floor. Mere inches from his left foot. He didn't bother to look up; he knew that there would be a corresponding hole above his head.

The Huey lurched and the engines sputtered, smoke blew through the open compartment, smelling of burning electrical equipment. He exchanged looks with the men in his group, well, boys really, just like him. They looked as white faced as he felt. The Sarge called out "buck up boys, just a little further and we're home free!"

The Huey sputtered and shuddered, the engines hitting and missing at a fearful rate. This wasn't a plane… they couldn't glide in if the engines failed… it would be a crash, falling down straight from the sky. He leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes. Heights didn't used to bother him, but now the very thought of falling a couple thousand feet to the jungle below, in enemy held land… positively terrified him.

Lt. Daniel Murphy was shooting the machine gun that was mounted near the door; the M213 .50 caliber gun was spitting bullet casings everywhere-

"Mr. Starsky? Are you alright? You don't look so good" The Baron glanced over at the detective, the man was sweating, beads of it ran down his face. The binoculars were in his lap and his hands quivered with slight tremors. Maybe he should land for a few minutes and let the poor guy collect himself. He peered through the window and looked about for a clearing in the forest. Spotting one, he headed for it.

"I'm sorry Baron, did you say something?" Starsky wiped his face on his sleeve and tried to quell the tight spins his stomach was making. He looked about and noticed they were descending "What's wrong? Why are we landing?"

"Ummm, I thought I saw something" The Baron wasn't about to embarrass the man by telling him the truth, that he knew Starsky was having a flashback.

Starsky was instantly and completely back in the here-and-now "What? What did you see?" The binoculars were back in place and he searched the treetops for damage "Hey! I see it too! On the left, right THERE!" Starsky pointed wildly and dropped the binoculars, letting them dangle around his neck by the strap. He leaned forward in his excitement, all fear gone now that there was a sign of a possible crash, a possible starting point to finding his friend.

The Baron then noticed the damaged treetops for himself "Holy Shit!" He pulled the copter around for another look. There it was; a shallow path in the treetops, just before the small meadow. He checked the area and it was big enough to land in, so he eased the Huey in for a landing.

The copter barely hit ground before Starsky was unbuckling himself from the seat and exiting the Huey. He ducked his head and crouched low as he ran under the still rotating blades. He didn't call out, though he wanted to. He trotted to the center of the meadow, looking for the plane. It took a little time, but he found the tire tracks in the grass. The tracks were hard to find for someone had taken the time to push the grass back up, hiding the fact that a plane had landed here.

The Baron joined him and they followed the tracks to the other end of the meadow and finally found the four-seat Piper. It was camouflaged with pine boughs. The two men carefully searched the area. Starsky searched the plane and found Hutch's satchel. It still had everything in it. Not a good sign. There was some dried blood on the floor of the Piper, not a lot though. From the damage to the plane's wing and wheels, they had had a hard landing, which would account for the blood. Though Starsky had the feeling there was more to it than that. Then he noticed the smashed radio. He and the Baron exchanged a look.

"Mr. Starsky, I think we should head back and get some help" The Baron climbed out of the plane.

"No Baron, I'm staying right here. You go ahead, radio this in, get a hold of Dobey, he'll know who to contact" Starsky began checking for obvious signs of the direction the missing men might have taken. They nearly two days on him, but he figured he could catch up to them; he refused to let himself doubt it. Did Hutch even know that one of the people he was traveling with was one of Manahan's men? God, he hoped so. He had to know it.

"You sure you'll be alright Mr. Starsky?" The Baron called as he headed to the Huey.

"Yeah, call this in, will ya? Times wastin'" He would start to search on his own. He would not wait for the others to get here.

The Baron tossed a small pack out of the copter "Here, some provisions"

Starsky ran over and collected it. "Thanks!" If the pack were anything like the last pack that the Baron had filled, Starsky would have plenty of provisions, both edible and shoot-able and even explode-able provisions. The man was a regular boy scout, always prepared. Starsky retreated from the copter and watched as it flew off over the trees, the whomp-whomp of the rotor blades sent shivers down his spine. But he stood his ground and waved one last time at the rapidly disappearing copter.

The Huey's radio had been cutting in and out all day, so Starsky knew that sending the Baron back for help was the surest way to get the message out. The Baron had told him that the Huey was being refurbished right after they had landed in the meadow. He wasn't happy about it, but there was nothing he could do about it now. He had more important things on his mind right now. He was finally going to find Hutch. He finally had a starting place.

He would have to dredge up everything he had ever learned about being in the jungle… the forest, he corrected himself, Hutch was counting on him. Starsky started his search back at the plane and he circled out from there. His circles grew ever larger as he expanded his search.

After nearly a half an hour of searching, he found a curious looking mound and had a very uneasy feeling about it. He carefully began to dig at the roughly oval shaped mound. It was grave sized. The rocks and fresh turned dirt were easy to move with the small camp shovel he found in the Baron's pack. He dug quickly; he had to know who was buried under the mound.

After several minutes, he found the body of a man he did not know. Starsky was relieved that it wasn't Hutch. This must be the decoy the US Marshals had provided. He quickly exposed the rest of the body to see if he could determine the cause of death. When he found a single stab wound in the man's spine, he felt his stomach drop to his feet. He knew of only one man who used that method of murder. John Colby should be in San Quentin prison. But the curly haired detective didn't think Colby was in prison any more. He was in these woods. And he had Hutch with him. He shouldered the pack and began to search for the route that they had taken away from the meadow.

XXXX

In the center of the field, where the Huey had been, a small red-hot bit of molten metal from the copter found its way into the deep litter of the meadow. It tumbled from blade to blade, gravity drawing it closer to the dirt below. It tumbled down deep and settled in, but before the metal cooled, it gave birth to a tiny little flame.

TBC