Enemy Territory

Feedback: Please. I'm relatively new to writing and I know I have a lot to learn.

Disclaimers: I don't own them, I just wish I did.

Warnings: There are some racial slurs uttered by the bad guys. They in no way reflect the views of the writer.

Prejudice is a great time saver. It enables you to form opinions without bothering to get the facts. –George Santayana
It was the slap that did it. Started the wheels turning. Det. David Starsky had slapped him. Damn Jew. He had been suspended for no good reason. For being a good cop. Now he was back at work. His partner had been reassigned. He needed a new partner. He'd been given desk duty until one could be found. Wouldn't think it would be so hard. Truth be told, he thought they wanted him to get fed up and quit. Yeah, he was onto them. He wasn't going to give them the satisfaction.

"Hutch?" Starsky spoke into the walkie-talkie.

"Shhhh. What?" Hutch replied, obviously annoyed.

"My foot's asleep." Starsky shifted his weight. He'd been crouched down in the bushes for nearly an hour.

"Well, wake it up." Hutch snapped. He knew Starsky was in the bushes and had to be uncomfortable. But he himself didn't exactly have it easy either. He was perched up in a tree a good 15 feet from the ground, about 20 yards from Starsky.

Starsky and Hutch were working with Corbin O'Doyle, a "cop on loan" from San Francisco. Corbin, a redheaded bulky Irishman, was posing as a drug dealer. He was scheduled to sell some cocaine to Viktor Kulik. Unlike Corbin, Viktor was small and dark. While he looked meek in person, the reality was that he would kill anyone standing in his way, and had done so on more than occasion.

"Hutch?"

"Now what?" Hutch was really starting to get annoyed. Why couldn't Starsky just be quiet and keep an eye on the house? Was it really so difficult to go 10 minutes without speaking?

"I gotta go." Starsky spoke with a sense of urgency.

"You've got to---didn't I tell you to go back at the station?" Hutch asked, exasperated.

"I didn't have to go then."

"Well, hold it in."

"I can't. I really gotta go bad." Starsky was whining now.

"Then pee on the bush!" Hutch pinched the bridge of his nose. He's a like a damn kid.

"Oh. I didn't think of that."

Hutch looked across and saw slight movement in the bushes. A minute passed, and there was a slight movement in the bushes again.

"Hutch?"

Hutch clenched his jaw. "What now, Starsky?"

"I'm thirsty."

Hutch sighed. "Well, you're just going to have to wait. If you drink something now, you'll just have to pee again."

Silence.

Then, "Hutch?"

"WHAT?" Hutch looked around. He hadn't meant to answer so loudly, but Starsky was getting on his last nerve.

"You ever think about it?"

"Think about what, Starsk?" Hutch was perplexed. What was Starsky talking about? Think about what? About the difference between candy apple red and fire engine red? Why was the sky blue? Who was the first person to look at a cow and wonder what milk tasted like? What was Starsky talking about?

"Why we're friends."

Hutch hadn't seen that one coming. "Starsky, we're friends. We're partners. There's nothing to think about. We just are."

A black Cadillac turned into the driveway. Viktor exited the car carrying a briefcase. He rang the doorbell and waited, looking over his shoulder, searching for anything out of the ordinary. Corbin opened the door, walked out, and greeted him. Pleasantries were exchanged --- then the briefcases as well.

Hutch spoke quietly into the walkie-talkie. "We've got him. Move in."

Starsky popped out from the bushes, the Baretta in his hands. "Hold it Viktor." Viktor turned slowly.

Starsky continued, "Put the briefcase down, Viktor. Hands in the air. You know the drill." Starsky slowly advanced, never taking his eyes off Viktor. Viktor stooped to place the briefcase on the ground. As he came up, Starsky saw the look in Viktor's eyes when he decided to make a play. Viktor straightened up slowly. He put his hand in his pocket, feeling for his gun.

Hutch jumped from the tree, his Python held in front of him. "Hold it, Viktor!" Viktor raised his arms in the air. Starsky ran up to Viktor and disarmed him, then cuffed him and led him to the Torino. Starsky turned back to Hutch, "You coming?"

"Yeah, you go on up ahead. I'm just going to talk to Corbin a minute." Hutch inhaled deeply as he put weight on his left foot. He limped over to Corbin, who was still standing on the porch. "Good job, Corbin. Let's get together later and finish our reports, okay?" He shook Corbin's hand and limped back to the Torino.

Starsky had put Viktor in the back seat. Hutch opened up the passenger door and got in the car. He bent to touch his ankle, and winced in pain.

Starsky furled his brow. "You okay?"

Hutch shifted in the seat. "Yeah. I just landed on my ankle wrong. Let's take Viktor to his new accommodations, shall we?" Hutch attempted a smile.

"Yeah, okay," said Starsky. "But then we're going to have your ankle looked at, whether you want to or not."

Hutch started to protest.

Starsky cut him off, doing a perfect impersonation of the "Hutchinson finger."

Hutch turned back around in his seat. "Fine," he muttered.

Hutch was not happy. His ankle wasn't broken, but it was sprained badly. He'd be off the street for two weeks. Two straight weeks of desk duty. Two long weeks of not backing up his partner. He shifted in his chair, sitting sideways beside his desk so that he could keep his leg propped up. He looked toward the door to Captain Dobey's office. Starsky hadn't been in there two minutes when he began yelling. The door burst open. Starsky stormed out, slamming Dobey's door as Dobey could be heard yelling, "Starsky, get back in here!"

Hutch searched his partner's eyes for an explanation. Starsky's eyes radiated anger. His jaw was clenched and his hands were balled into fists. "I gotta get outta here." Starsky pushed the squad room door open and walked briskly down the hall, shoving anybody who happened to be in front of him to the side.

Dobey walked out of his office, taking his handkerchief out of his pocket and wiping his face. He walked over to Hutch.

"What was all that about Captain? What's wrong with Starsky?" Hutch asked.

Dobey sighed. "I just assigned Starsky a temporary partner. He wasn't happy with my choice."

Hutch thought a moment. "Not Simonetti?" That was the only name he could come up with that would cause Starsky to become so incensed.

Dobey shook his head. "No."

Hutch asked, "Then who?"

Dobey replied, "Raymond T. Andrews."

Hutch stood up, ignoring the pain in his ankle. "Are you insane? Raymond Andrews? After he killed Jackson with no provocation? What are you thinking? Why not partner him with George Prudholm? Or maybe partner me with Forrest?" Hutch's voice was escalating. Other detectives looked up from their desks.

Dobey shouted, "In my office Hutchinson!" He turned and walked to his office.

Hutch grabbed his crutches and entered Dobey's office, closing the door behind him.

"Sit down before you fall down," said Dobey.

"I'd rather stand." Hutch hissed.

Dobey looked up at Hutch. "Look, I have my reasons. Just sit down and let me explain things to you. Then maybe YOU can explain to your PARTNER what's going on, because he sure as hell wouldn't listen to ME."

Hutch sat down in the chair directly in front of Dobey's desk.

"Now," Dobey continued. "I'm sure you've heard of WBW, Whites for a Better World."

Hutch nodded. "Yeah, they're like the Ku Klux Klan. They're suspected of lynching a black man a few months ago because he was dating a white woman. Real upstanding citizens."

"The feds have learned that they are planning some sort of attack. We don't know where, we don't know when, but we think it might be the synagogue. They've been distributing propaganda against Jews." Dobey said.

Hutch interrupted him. "What's this got to do with Starsky and Andrews?"

Dobey looked at Hutch. "The feds have reason to believe that Andrews might be involved with this group. They don't believe he's done anything illegal at this point. He just attends the meetings. But when this thing escalates, he might become involved. We're hoping that by partnering him with Starsky, he'll make a mistake, let something slip. I want this group stopped before anybody else gets hurt." Dobey put his head in his hands, flexing his fingers in his hair.

Hutch spoke. "Andrews is a rookie. How are you going to explain partnering a rookie with a detective? A detective whom everybody knows can't stand Andrews.'

"We're telling Andrews that the department has received anonymous threats against Jewish policemen, making Starsky a prime target. With your ankle being sprained you can't watch his back. We're telling him the department is showing good faith in his abilities by asking him to fill in for you. I've seen his kind before. He'll buy into it. You'll see."

Hutch thought for a moment, and then started to stand. "I'll talk to him, Captain. But I want you to know that I don't think this is right. And I'm not going to pretend to like it either."

Hutch perched on his crutches and went back to his desk. The phone rang.

"Hutchinson."

"Hey Hutch, it's me." Hutch exhaled in relief at the sound of Starsky's voice.

"Hey, Starsk. Where are you?"

"In my car. I gotta get out of here, Hutch. Think you can leave early? I don't want to leave you stranded up here, but if I don't leave I'm going to explode." Starsky spoke with an edge in his voice.

"Yeah, Buddy. I'm on my way."

Hutch made his way to the parking lot. Starsky had pulled up by the door, trying to save Hutch a few steps. Hutch got in the car, and Starsky pulled into the street, headed toward Hutch's apartment.

Hutch spoke first. "You want to talk about it?"

Starsky stared straight head. "Not yet. I'm thinkin'"

"Okay." Hutch turned and looked out the passenger window. He turned back to Starsky. "Why don't we order a pizza, get some beer, and talk about it at my place. Sound good?"

Starsky thought for a moment. "Yeah, okay. But no desiccated liver on my pizza." He smiled a half smile.

Hutch smiled back. "Okay, but no anchovies either."

"You got no heart, you know that Hutch?"

Hutch smiled. "Yeah, I know Buddy. I know."

"That's the stupidest plan I've ever heard," Starsky said. "I mean, if anybody's going to get a death threat it's Andrews. And I'll deliver it personally." Starsky was fuming.

"I know. But I really don't see where there's any other way. Dobey seems determined to go through with this plan." Hutch shifted on the couch, his leg outstretched on some pillows.

"Do I gotta pretend to like him?" Starsky asked.

"I wouldn't if I were you. He'd suspect something was up. And know this. If you need me at any time, any place, you call me and I'll be there." Hutch smiled.

Starsky sighed. "I know, Hutch. I just really hate this, you know? I mean, the thought of looking at him makes me sick to my stomach."

"Well then, at least you'll be laying off the burritos and chili dogs or a while, huh?" Hutch's attempt at humor fell flat.

Starsky knew what Hutch was trying to do, though, and so he replied, "Not on your life, Blondie. Not on your life."

Starsky and Hutch entered the squad room 30 minutes late. Dobey's office door was open so that he could spot them the minute they arrived. Andrews had been sitting in Dobey's office the entire 30 minutes. Dobey had gone over the "facts" of the case with him.

Dobey concluded by saying, "You should know, Andrews, that Det. Starsky is hesitant about working with you. I'll expect you to be on your best behavior and show him that you're a good cop."

"I'll do my best, Sir. I appreciate you giving me a second chance like this. I won't let you down." Andrews put his best smile on. Yeah right. I'll watch your back Jew boy. I'll watch your back as a bullet is put into it.

Starsky and Hutch had made it to their desks. Starsky was helping Hutch to get his leg propped up on a chair.

"Starsky, get in here!" Dobey bellowed.

Starsky looked at Hutch. "And so begins Act 1." He turned and entered Dobey's office. "Yes sir Captain?" Starsky didn't acknowledge Andrews' presence.

"Starsky, I want you and Andrews to hit the streets. Show these turkeys making death threats that you're not backing down."

Starsky stared at Dobey. "Okay." He turned and walked out the door.

Dobey looked at Andrews. "Get going, or he'll leave you behind."

"Yes sir." Andrews scrambled up and out of the office. He could see Starsky going down the hall. He ran to catch up.

Dobey walked out to the squad room. "This is going to be a long two weeks."

Hutch nodded his head. "You're telling me."

Starsky and Andrews had been cruising the streets for a couple of hours in complete silence. Finally, Andrews couldn't stand it any more.

"Det. Starsky, look, I know you don't like this any more than I do. But since we have to work together, we may as well try go get along." Andrews hoped he sounded sincere. He knew that Starsky and Hutch were bleeding hearts.

Starsky glanced at Andrews, then turned his attention back to the road. "Never happen."

"Look, I'm sorry about your friend, okay? I was stupid. I'm sorry. I don't know what else to say. How long am I going to have to pay for a mistake? I can't take it back, or I would. What would you have me do?" Yeah, this is award-winning stuff. Andrews bent his head down.

"As far as I'm concerned, you can pay for the rest of your life. At least you've got one. Jackson doesn't. You can't take it back, I know that. But I'd be lying if I said I could forgive you." Starsky tightened his grip on the steering wheel. "Let's just get through these next few weeks the best we can."

Andrews nodded his head, then watched out the side window. Well, at least he's accepted the fact that he's stuck with me. That's a start.

It was a relatively quiet day on the streets of Bay City. A couple of domestic disputes. A shoplifter. Starsky headed back to the station. He parked the car and got out. Andrews followed. Starsky walked briskly to the squad room, leaving Andrews to catch up.

Hutch looked up. "Hey, Partner." He gave Starsky the once over. Every muscle in Starsky's body seemed to be tensed up. Starsky walked over the chair at his desk and sat down.

Andrews entered the squad room. He walked over to one of filing cabinets, then stood, his back against the wall. Hutch gave him a sideways glance, then turned back to Starsky.

"So, I hear you've had a pretty quiet day."

"Yeah. Thought I'd come back and get the reports done." Starsky began shuffling through some papers on his desk.

Hutch smiled. "You realize that by turning in your daily reports on a daily basis, you're going to either give Dobey a heart attack or set a standard that will be impossible to keep once we get back on the streets?"

Starsky looked up at Hutch. "Yeah, I guess so. Look, I just want this day to end. Okay?"

Hutch sighed. "Yeah, okay. Uh, Starsk? You want Andrews to stand next to the wall for the rest of the afternoon?"

"What do I care?" Starsky was feeding a form into the typewriter. "You want him to sit down, you tell him."

Hutch put his hand on the back of his neck. "Hey, Andrews. You can have a seat if you want. Shift'll be over soon."

Andrews saw an empty chair next to the one where Hutch had his leg propped up. He walked over to it and sat down. "I can help with the reports if you want, Det. Starsky."

"Suit yourself. I'll do the two domestics. You do the shoplifter." Starsky never looked up from the typewriter.

Hutch handed Andrews a blank form. "Here you go, Andrews. When you finish, why don't you call it a day, huh?"

Andrews took the form from Hutch. "Sure. Thanks Det. Hutchinson."

Jangles' Bar was located on the outer skirts of Bay City. It was a favorite hangout for the members of WBW. Andrews pulled up outside the bar. Wait until they hear who my new 'partner' is.

Andrews slipped his jacket off and draped it over his shoulder. He strode into the bar. Scanning the patrons, his eye caught Ed Huntley, the founder of WBW. Huntley spotted Andrews and motioned him to the table.

Huntley stood up to greet Andrews. "Hey, Ray. How's it going?" Huntley shook hands with Andrews. He liked Andrews. The kid had taken a lot of heat for shooting a black man. But he never backed down. That made him a "stand-up" guy in Huntley's opinion.

Andrews smiled. "It's going good, Ed. You'll never believe who the department has partnered me with."

"Who?" Huntley asked.

"Det. David Starsky himself." Andrews grinned. "Can you believe it?"

Huntley sat down. "What's the game? That doesn't make sense. That bleeding heart hates you! And even if he didn't, the man is Jewish!"

Andrews pulled up a chair and sat at Huntley's table. "Yeah, I know. He's pretty pissed about it. But his partner has a sprained ankle and can't be on the streets. And his spook captain thought I'd be a good candidate to watch his back. The department has received threats against Jewish officers." Andrews laughed.

"Well, this is too good of an opportunity to pass up. How do you want to play this?" Huntley asked. He ran his hands through his thinning blond hair.

"That's why I came to see you. I mean, I know the threats had to come from the WBW, right?" Andrews asked.

"Well, I've not made a direct threat, but that doesn't mean one of our boys didn't take it upon himself to call in a specific threat. We could deal with your new partner and show the city that we mean business. Then maybe our demands will be taken more seriously. What do you say?" Huntley was feeling excited.

"Yeah. We're working days now, so we go in at 8:00…" Andrews gave Huntley the layout of the beat he and Starsky would be patrolling. Six beers later they had their plan formulated, ready to be executed the following day.

Andrews left the bar and drove to his apartment. He needed to rest up. Tomorrow was going to be a long day.

"Zebra 3, Zebra 3"

Starsky picked up the radio. "This is Zebra 3."

"Woman screaming at 313 Windham Street."

"On our way." Starsky returned the mic to its holder. Andrews put the mars light on top of the car and switched on the siren. Starsky sped to 313 Windham Street. There were mostly abandoned, boarded up houses lining the street. He thrust the car in park. There was no screaming, only the wind blowing through the trees. Starsky pulled his gun. Andrews pulled his. Together they approached the front door of the dilapidated house, Starsky leading the way. Starsky put his back next to the door; Andrews did the same on the opposite side. Starsky mouthed, "On 3." Andrews nodded his head in understanding.

Starsky mouthed, "1. 2. 3." On three, he turned and kicked in the door, crouching, with his gun in his hand. "Police!" Andrews entered right behind him.

The house was obviously empty and had been for quite a while. The floor was covered in dust; there were no signs of footprints. Starsky stood and holstered his gun. "Looks like a false alarm. C'mon, let's go." He turned to leave.

"Actually, it wasn't a false alarm." Andrews said.

"What do you mean? There's nobody here. There hasn't been for a long time by the looks of it." Starsky stopped and turned to Andrews.

Andrews had his gun pointed at Starsky. "Just do what I say, Jew boy. Now throw down your weapon, and put your hands behind your back."

"You want my gun? You come and get it." Starsky challenged.

Andrews smiled. "Oh, I want your gun. But I tell you what, instead of ME getting it, why don't I let my friend get it?" He walked to the front door and whistled. Huntley walked in, followed by two other men, all wielding guns.

Starsky sized up the men. Huntley was thin and about 5'9". The two men with Huntley, however, were about 6'4" and muscle bound. Starsky figured he could take Huntley, maybe Huntley and Andrews, but there was no way he could take all four on his own. He slowly pulled his gun out of the holster and set it on the floor.

"I thought you'd see it my way, kike." Andrews sneered.

"J.D., why don't you get our guest here ready to travel? Duke, you get the car, bring it around front." Huntley ordered. He walked over to Starsky.

Starsky glared at Huntley intently, until finally Huntley looked away. J.D. cuffed Starsky's hands behind his back and pushed him toward the front door. Duke arrived with the car.

Huntley turned to Andrews. "We'll follow behind the Torino. After we've dumped it, we'll head out to the compound." He turned back to J.D. "Bring him."

J.D. took the butt of his gun and slammed it into the back of Starsky's head. Starsky immediately crumpled to the floor, unconscious. J.D. picked up Starsky's feet and dragged him down the steps, across the yard, and to the car, leaving a trail of blood from Starsky's head. He then picked him up and tossed him in the trunk.

Andrews started the Torino and pulled away. Duke pulled out and followed. They parked the Torino in an abandoned warehouse, then proceeded to the compound, located 20 miles from Bay City, in a densely wooded area.

Upon arriving to the compound, Starsky was dumped into the basement of a small house. There were no windows. There was only one way in or out, and that was through a steel door that was padlocked. The door had an opening about the size of an envelope. There was a toilet in the corner of the 8' x 10' room. Cement walls. Cement floors.

"Welcome to your new home, Partner." Andrews hissed. He slid the panel to the opening of the door closed.

Huntley smiled. "So far, so good. Now let's start teaching this Jew a lesson."

"What do you mean you don't know where they are?" Hutch asked.

"Just that," said Dobey. "They answered a call at 313 Windham Street. Then they just disappeared. I've sent units out there. Starsky's car is nowhere in sight. There are signs of a scuffle in the house, and blood on the porch, steps, and some on the grass, like someone was dragged from the house."

"Someone was dragged from the house bleeding. You know it has to be Starsky. He's hurt Captain, and you're to blame!" Hutch was seething.

"Calm down, Hutch. We don't know it was Starsky. The lab guys are running tests--" Dobey spoke.

"Don't give me that Captain. If it wasn't Starsky, then it was Andrews. And as much as Starsky can't stand the man, if he was hurt, Starsky would get him some medical help. And he sure as hell wouldn't drag him like a bag of trash!" Hutch yelled.

"Hutch, I---"

"Save it, Captain. I'll find him. With no help from you." Hutch fumbled with his crutches and then made his way out of the squad room.

He was on the first floor when he realized he had no car. Rather than have a patrolman take him home, Hutch called a taxi.

After paying the taxi driver, Hutch went directly to his car. He threw the crutches in the back seat. Don't worry Starsk. I'll find you. Hang on, Buddy. He started the car and pulled out onto the street. He knew that the WBW met at Jangles. Dobey had said that Andrews had been attending the meetings for WBW. He would start there.

Starsky woke up shivering. He was lying on the cement floor in a poorly lighted room. He pushed himself up on his knees slowly. He felt nauseous and his head was pounding. He heard voices outside the door, then the sound of a key in a lock. The door opened.

"Well, I see you've decided to join us," Huntley smiled. "How do you like your new home? I'll admit, it could use some decorating, but overall it's a nice room, don't you think?"

Starsky put his hands on his head. "Go to hell."

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. So rude. Don't you think so Ray?" Huntley turned toward the door.

Andrews entered the small room. "Yeah, that was really rude."

Huntley walked over to Starsky. He grabbed Starsky's shirt and pulled him up to his feet. "Face the wall."

Starsky was puzzled. "It's a small room. No matter where I stand, I'm facing a wall."

Huntley slapped Starsky's face. He pointed to the wall directly across from the door. "Go stand next to that wall. Now."

Starsky walked unsteadily to the wall. His face was about 8 inches away from the barren, white wall.

Huntley put his mouth to Starsky's ear. "If you move one inch, shift your weight, move a muscle, or even blink your eyes, you're going to suffer. Do you understand?" He slapped Starsky again just to make his point.

Starsky didn't reply. He just stood staring at the wall. His eyes began to burn and he couldn't stay focused. He blinked.

SLAP

Starsky turned back toward the wall. His eyes felt as though there were hot irons in them. He blinked.

SLAP

Andrews whispered in Starsky's ear, "You know, Hutch is never going to find you. Even after you're dead."

Starsky snapped his head to glare at Andrews. "He'll find me. And better than that, he'll find YOU!"

SLAP

Starsky's lips and nose were bleeding now. His ears were ringing and his eyes were burning. He continued to stare at the wall. J.D. was to take the first shift of delivering blows. Duke would take the second.

Starsky lost all track of time. He had no food or water. He had been hit countless times. His eyes felt heavy, but everything they tried to close he was struck. His stomach felt as though it was full of lava. He desperately wanted some water.

There was a tap on the door. J.D. slid the panel open. Andrews smiled. "Brought cha something to eat."

Andrews unlocked the door and entered the room. He handed J.D. a bag and a drink. "You go ahead and eat, J.D. I'll take over so you can enjoy your meal."

J.D. sat on the floor and opened the bag. He retrieved a burger and fries. The aroma reached Starsky, and his stomach began to boil. J.D. noisily took the wrapper off the burger. He slurped the Coke out of the cup.

Starsky tensed.

SLAP

"So sorry, Starsky. But you were told not to move a muscle." Andrews laughed.

"Go to hell, Andrews."

Andrews stopped laughing. "That one's gonna cost you, you dirty, filthy Jew." He turned and walked out the door, only to return in less than a minute with a bat in his hand. He struck Starsky's back with the bat, knocking him down. He alternated kicking and hitting with the bat. Starsky lost consciousness, a pool of blood forming under his limp body.

J.D. stood up. "Huntley's not going to like what you did. He's going to—"

"I'm going to what?" Huntley entered the room.

"Sir, I was just telling Ray here that you weren't going to like what he did to the prisoner." J.D. backed up against the wall.

Huntley approached Andrews. "You realize, don't you Ray, that when he's unconscious we can't get anything accomplished. You knew he would try to provoke you. You should have been above it." He slapped Andrews across the face.

"Hey, hey, Ed. I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry." Andrews stammered. "It won't happen again."

Hutch discovered that he could actually move faster if he used one crutch instead of two. It hurt his ankle, but at this point, he just wanted to find Starsky. He entered Jangles' Bar. There were only four men at the bar. The tables were empty. He approached the bartender. "Slow night, huh?"

The old man looked up. "Yeah. What can I get you?"

"I'm actually looking for a friend of mine. Ray Andrews. We work together. You know where he is?" Hutch forced a smile.

"Nope. Haven't seen him here today. He was here last night though. He was talking with Ed Huntley." The old man continued to wipe down the bar.

Hutch smiled. "Thanks."

Hutch exited the bar and went to his car. He drove to the station and made his way to the squad room. It was nearly 10:00 p.m. Starsky had been missing more than 12 hours. Dobey's office door was closed, but Hutch could see light coming through the bottom of the door. He knocked.

"What is it?" Dobey bellowed.

Hutch opened the door slowly. "Captain. It's me, Hutch. Mind if I come in?"

"Go ahead." Dobey looked up. His eyes were blood shot and his brow was furled.

"Captain, I'm sorry about—"

"Don't say it Hutch. Everything you said was right. I never should have agreed to this plan. If something happens to Dave, it'll be on my head." Dobey sighed.

"We're going to find him Captain. I went to Jangles' Bar, the barkeeper there said Andrews was there last night with a guy named Ed Huntley."

"Huntley?" Dobey shuffled through some papers. "He's the leader of the WBW. There's an address here. Why don't we check it out?" Dobey stood.

"Captain, I can –" Hutch began.

"Hutch. I need to go with you. Now let's go." Dobey grabbed his jacket.

"Okay, Captain. But I'm driving."

Starsky's head was pounding. He tried to open his eyes, but found that he could barely lift his eyelids. He could taste blood in his mouth. He tried to push himself up, but immediately fell back to the floor. There was a sharp burning pain in his arms and legs. Okay, Hutch. Anytime you wanna bust through the door, I'm ready.

"So, I see you're awake." Huntley sneered. "That's good. Because I want you to be fully aware of what's happening to you before you die." He kicked Starsky in the ribs.

Starsky moaned and tried to turn away from the assault.

"What's the matter? You got no more fight left in you, Jew?" Huntley kicked again, this time Starsky's kidneys.

Starsky winced and tried to turn.

Huntley pushed Starsky's face to the floor with his boot. "Duke! Get in here!"

Duke ran in. "Yeah, what do you need Ed?"

"Get this filthy kike in the chair. He's awake so we can begin again. And get Ray in here. After you get the Jew taken care of, go out front and keep watch." Huntley lifted his foot from Starsky's head.

Duke left the room and returned momentarily with a chair and rope. Ray came in with him. Duke went over to Starsky and pulled him up onto the chair and tied his hands behind his back and his feet to the chair, then left. Starsky's head lolled down to his chest. Ray put his hand on Starsky's chin and lifted his head.

Starsky tried to talk. "Why?"

"Why? Because you're a dirty, stinking Jew that's why. And thanks to you and your nigger friend, nobody at the station wants to have anything to do with me. Sure, I got to keep my job, but what good is it when nobody will work with me?" Ray's face reddened as he spoke, his voice growing louder.

Starsky squeezed his eyes closed, and then slowly opened them. Andrews let go of Starsky's head. He picked up the bloodied bat.

Huntley walked up to Andrews. "Okay, Ray. You can have him, but no head blows. I don't want him passing out yet."

Andrews lifted the bat. He swung at Starsky, hitting his left arm. There was a loud "pop" and bone could be seen protruding through the skin.

Starsky screamed.

Huntley laughed.

Andrews dropped the bat to the floor. He was looking straight ahead.

Hutch was standing in the doorway, his gun pointed at Andrews. Dobey was behind him. "Step away from him. Now."

Andrews backed up against the wall.

Hutch looked at Huntley. "You too. NOW!"

Huntley backed up against the wall, beside Andrews. Hutch threw Dobey his handcuffs. Dobey motioned the men to the toilet. He cuffed the men together, having them form a circle around the toilet.

Hutch cut the ropes binding Starsky's hands. Dobey cut the ropes around his feet.. Starsky immediately slid into Hutch's embrace. Sirens could be heard in the distance, signaling an end to the nightmare.

Hutch wanted to pace in the waiting room, but the pain in his ankle prohibited that. So he sat sideways on the couch with his foot propped up, drumming his fingers on the cushion. Dobey handed him a cup of coffee.

"Thanks, Captain. Did you call Huggy?"

"Yeah. He's on his way. Said he was going bring some sandwiches because he knows you haven't eaten since this whole thing began." Dobey took a drink from his cup and loosened his tie. He sat down in a chair across from the couch Hutch occupied.

Seconds turned to minutes. Minutes turned to hours.

Huggy arrived and forced Hutch and Dobey to eat a ham sandwich.

Five hours later the surgeon entered the waiting room. "You're here for Det. Starsky, correct?"

Hutch struggled to stand. Huggy offered his hand and helped pull him up.

Dobey spoke. "Yes. I'm Captain Dobey, this is Ken Hutchinson, Det. Starsky's partner. This is Huggy Bear, a close friend. How is he?"

The doctor pulled his surgical cap off. "I'm Dr. Klein. You're aware that Det. Starsky was tortured. His left arm had a compound fracture. We were able to surgically repair that. His kidneys are bruised. He has three fractured ribs, numerous lacerations and contusions, and a concussion. He has a high fever and is suffering from dehydration. He's going to have a painful road back to recovery, but barring any unforeseen complications, I believe he'll pull through."

All three men released a heavy sigh.

Hutch stepped up to the doctor. "Dr. Klein, can I see him? I won't bother him or anything, I just want to let him know that I'm here, and that he's going to be okay."

"That will be fine. I know the reputation you two have, especially when one of you is hurt! You know the drill. Stay out of the doctors and nurses way. He's in room 275."

Hutch limped to Starsky's room and slowly opened the door. Starsky's arm and chest were wrapped in bandages. He was bruised and scratched. He had IV's in his right arm. Hutch was afraid to touch him, but finally took his index finger and let some of Starsky's curls wrap around his finger. Then he lightly stroked Starsky's cheek.

"Hey Buddy. You're going to be okay. Doc says you'll be good as new in no time. You just rest, Starsk. I'm not going anywhere." Hutch felt a tear roll down his cheek.

"Hush." Starsky's eyes fluttered and halfway opened.

Hutch leaned his ear to Starsky's mouth. "Yeah, Buddy? I'm right here."

A whisper. "Ja….think…..'bout….it?"

"Think about it? What---oh, why we're friends?" Hutch asked.

"Yeah."

"You're a part of my being, Starsk. You offer what I need before I realize I need it. You give for the joy of it. You don't need to keep score. I know that there is nothing in this world you wouldn't do for me, and that I wouldn't do for you." Hutch smiled. "Does that answer your question?"

"Hush?"

"Yeah, Buddy?" Hutch put his ear to Starsky's mouth.

"Stay. 'Kay?" Starsky closed his eyes.

"Yeah, I'll stay. You just get some sleep." Hutch could hear the change in Starsky's breathing and knew that his partner was already in a drug-induced sleep. Hutch pulled a chair next to Starsky's bed, then positioned another one so that he could prop up his foot. He carefully put Starsky's right hand in his own. He closed his eyes and let the sound of his partner's breathing lull him to sleep.

The End