Disclaimer: This story was written purely for entertainment and is not for profit. It is not meant to trespass in any way on the holders of the rights to Starsky and Hutch.

Mahalo to all of the wonderful people in my life, who continue to encourage, support, and inspire me in my endeavor to write.

Warning: "Silent Witness" might be considered a dark tale and contains some graphic scenes and foul language that may be offensive to some readers. This story also revolves around a paranormal/metaphysical genre; if this is not your cup of tea, then please refrain from sipping. I would hate to spoil someone's fun.

oo Silent Witness oo

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Saturday, early morning hours (Old Canyon Road, an abandoned church)

He looked to the sun, its merciless rays reached down to scorch his bruised body, burning him, as it set his skin on fire. His bare feet trudged along in the blistering sand, kicking up granules of red-hot heat that seared into him wherever they touched his body. His dry, thirsty throat screamed for water, as he continued to drag himself over the scorching sand dunes, hand over hand, his stomach scratched and burning with pain, until he saw it, the cool waters of an oasis that sparkled in the distance. He hurriedly scrambled towards it, nestled away under some shady palm trees. He could feel his adrenalin pumping as hope began to lift his spirits and he made his way towards the water, as quickly as his weary body could go. Excitement filled his heart, as he felt the coolness of the shade, the leaves of the palm tree shielding his body from the punishing sun. He cupped his hands, getting ready to immerse them into the cool liquid, his throat already tasting the sweetness of the water to come, when a man rose from behind one of the palms. He held a wooden bowl in his hands as he said, "Drink from this Polaris, let me help you . . . accept this gift and accept us . . ." The brunet quickly looked back to the pool of sparkling water that his cupped hands quivered above, watching in horror was the clear liquid turned into dark, red blood.

Starsky startled awake, his dark lashes lifting as he groggily tried to look around him, the strange dreamlike quality following him into the conscious world as everything blurred in and out of focus. Everything was dark around the edges and he gasped, as the pain in his gut repeatedly stabbed into him, drawing his legs in tighter, his arms wrapped protectively around his mid-section as he curled into the pain, all the while feeling the vile strokes against his sweat-drenched curls. He closed his eyes once more, too weary to pull away from the hand that caressed his head.

"Shh . . .," a voice comforted, yet he knew it was not Hutch, the touch repulsed him and made him shudder with revulsion, "Let me help you Polaris, join with us and the trinity will be complete. Release your stubborn willfulness and cease your futile struggles. Accept the flame that burns within us . . . for we are the chosen ones, you and I." Luke whispered to the shivering man, "You are so cold . . . stop fighting the flame of Simone, and feel his warmth and strength flow into your soul."

It was so cold, the snowdrifts were high and the wind blew fiercely from the mountaintop where he suddenly found himself. The evergreens were buffeted by the howling wind and he shivered in frozen despair, his lips and skin turning blue and numb with the freezing cold. He squinted, trying to see through the swirling snow, his legs sinking deep into the soft whiteness as he peered through the darkness. 'How could this be happening' his mind reasoned silently, 'Where was he? Where was Hutch?' He looked around, barely able to make his frozen body obey the commands of his mind when he saw it . . . a tiny cottage almost hidden away in the snowy white banks. Warm, golden light blinked from its shiny windowpanes and a wispy vapor of smoke rose from its stone chimney. He felt his spirits lifting, hope once again filling his heart as he trudged his way through the deep snow, painfully making his way closer to the quaint cottage until he stood exhausted upon its stone steps. He raised his a fist to wearily pound on the wooden door, when it was suddenly yanked open by a man, who quickly beckoned him in, closing the door behind him. He could feel his weary body wanting to give in, wanting to stop the pain that ripped into his gut, exhaustion and fear weakening his strong resolve, as the man offered him a wooden bowl of steaming liquid. "Here drink this Polaris . . . it'll warm you . . . let us help you become strong."

Starsky gasped and bolted upright, sitting up dazedly, groaning in pain at the jolting movement, his breathing was rapid and shallow as he tried to get a handle on the fiery pain that tore through his mid section. Sweat ran profusely down his face and he felt so weak, everything was spinning, as he swallowed down the nausea that crept up his throat. He could feel rough hands grab onto him, and he briefly struggled, his mind imagining dark monsters lurking in the dim shadows, and he groaned again as pain radiated through his gut, feeling suddenly drained and exhausted as he allowed Luke to pull him down once again to the hard concrete floor.

"Shh . . ." Luke whispered, stroking back the damp curls, "Simone is here . . . just say his name and peace and comfort shall be yours . . . say it with me Polaris . . . Simone, Simone, Simone, Simone . . ."

"Ungh," the brunet moaned, curling into himself again, as the chanting grew louder, adding to his disorientation, black and red, ebony and blood, floated past his vision, his bewildered mind unable to grasp what it was he was seeing . . . there was no reality, just this illusion, this horrible dream of Simone's.

'Open yourself and accept me as your Father, as your savior, as your God!' Starsky heard the sibilant whispering in his mind, and he struggled once more as Luke held him down. The sound of the chanting was confusing him and the voice in his head grew louder and louder as both Marcus and Luke began chanting with the others, "Simone, Simone, Simone, Simone . . ."

"H-Hutch . . . help," the dark haired detective whispered, unable to fathom the spinning vortex of sound and colors, falling in the darkness of blessed unconsciousness once more.

-.-.-.-oo0oo.-.-.-.-

Saturday, early morning hours

"No Captain . . . I didn't understand nothing that raving lunatic said, he just kept rambling on in riddles the way he usually does," Hutch said frustrated beyond words, as he spoke into the mic, driving with one hand, while he sped to Collandra's café. "I taped our whole conversation like I did before, but I need time to listen to it again, to see if I can figure out any type of clues . . . you know how Simon loves mind games."

"Well, are you going down to the station? I can meet you there." Dobey whispered as he walked with the phone out into his living room, not wanting to disturb his sleeping wife. "We can figure it out together . . . maybe you can call that two bit bean pole friend of yours . . . he was pretty helpful the last time."

Hutch smiled tiredly as he heard Dobey's soft snort, remembering how Huggy had joined them, as they tried to figure out the baffling riddles of Marcus the last time Starsky had been abducted by that madman and his goons. Although his captain enjoyed ragging on the tall, skinny black man who ran "The Pits," the Bear took it all in good stride, never holding grudges against the larger man. In a way, it was like how he and Starsky bantered back and forth with one another. Starsky. Just thinking about his dark haired partner made Hutch step on the gas pedal.

"Actually Captain, I'm on my way now to see Joe Collandra. He took Starsky's jacket home with him to see if he could get any more "hunches" that would lead us to him. I want to check in with him first."

"Okay," Dobey said gruffly, "In any case, keep me posted."

"You bet Cap'n, I'll call you back as soon as I talk to Joe." Hutch placed the mic in its cradle and focused on the road. He glanced quickly at his watch; if the lab was right, Starsky had been taken sometime in the early morning hours on Friday. His partner was now missing approximately twenty-four hours.

Hutch squeezed the living daylights out of the steering wheel. Twenty-four hours with those maniacal, sadistic followers of Simon Marcus. Who knew what they were doing to Starsky now. The blond's vivid imagination made him groan in anguish. Where could they be keeping him?

"H-Hutch . . . help." The barest of whispers, yet Hutch knew the sound of that voice immediately. It was Starsky's. His mind quickly flashed to that night, so long ago, when he got a phone call in the early morning hours and heard his partner's weak voice over the phone, the night that Starsky was shot with a poison-filled hypo. The same words were spoken in both incidences and Hutch's gut clenched in despair. "Oh God, please help him, please keep him safe," the blond whispered softly in the dark stillness of the car, as it sped through the pre-dawn streets, "Please hang in there, stay strong Starsk, I'm coming!" Hutch shouted aloud, hoping in some strange way that his partner would be able to 'hear' or 'sense' him. Tears of frustration and anxiety filled the blond's eyes as he silently prayed, beseeching the aid of a higher power, as he willfully broke the speed limit to make it to Collandra's.

-.-.-.-oo0oo.-.-.-.-

J.C. Café was lit up when Hutch arrived and he quickly threw the car into park. The blond headed towards the entranceway of the eatery. Joe met him at the door, locking them behind the detective.

"Anything?" Hutch asked, placing the small tape recorder on one of the tables. The blond looked up at the psychic who immediately sat down on one of the chairs that surrounded the table they were using.

"Just weird stuff . . . don't know what to make of it." Joe said softly. "I know he's still alive, if that's what you're asking . . . I can still "feel" him."

"Yeah, me too," Hutch said just as softly, his pale, blue eyes connecting with the weary eyes of the psychic. "I thought I heard him call for me twice tonight."

"Probably did . . . the way you two are 'connected'." Collandra said abruptly. Noting the sadness that touched the blond's eyes, the psychic focused is attention elsewhere. "What is that?" Joe asked, nodding towards the recorder.

"I taped my conversation with Simon Marcus. The last time this happened, we got some clues to where they were keeping Starsky from his asinine riddles."

"Can I listen to it?" Joe asked curiously, "Maybe I can help you piece together something that will help us find the kid."

Hutch smiled at that last word. There was something almost 'kid-like' about his partner, but Hutch was sure that Starsky would have never shown that side of his personality to Joe. Usually only the blond, and a few close acquaintances, had been privy to that part of his partner's persona. Maybe Collandra could help him with his special way of "knowing" things. "Okay," Hutch said, pressing the play button after he had rewound the tape. They both listened intently as Marcus' calm, but distinctive voice was heard.

"I dreamed we would meet again. Dreamed you would start another quest, as you searched for your completer and that you would die, as your partner even now is dying."

"Where is my partner?" Hutch was surprised to hear is voice sounding like that . . . so empty, so weary . . . so lost.

"As with all heavenly bodies, he lives in the House of God, Worry not gentle knight, he is with the faithful . . ." There was a moment's pause and Simon's voice continued, "And you, though white you once were, tarnished now you be . . . and the power of love is not as pure, as once it was. Yet . . . cupid's arrow may still fly and pierce the heart of those we cherish . . . proving once again, that love still exists and is the supreme power over all. Simone knows everything . . . Simone never lies . . . never lies."

Hutch snuck a guilty peek at Collandra, wondering if he had "picked up" on the horrible mess they had with Kira and how he had willingly hurt his friend, but the psychic remained focused on the recording as Hutch's voice was once again heard . . .

"Tell me where Starsky is." They both listened to the long pause, the tape running silently, and then Simon's voice, as he calmly spoke . . .

"He's everywhere. In a desert of scorching heat, on a mountaintop where the cold winds blow, in a canyon of old, where the flame of the sun burns down upon the Lord's house where the faithful once worshipped, only to leave, abandoned forevermore . . ."

"Wait," Joe said suddenly, "Rewind that part." They listened quietly to the part they had just heard, and Collandra pressed the stop button.

"Okay . . . okay . . . I ah . . . I don't know if this makes sense to you, but I "saw" Starsky in a desert and ah . . . it was so hot, he was burning and he was so thirsty just like what Marcus says on the tape, then all of a sudden, I "see" your partner in the snow on a mountain, the evergreen trees are blowing and he's freezing . . . it's so cold there."

"What else Joe," Hutch asked anxiously, "Did you recognize any landmarks in your vision?"

"Nah . . . no landmarks . . . it was like the guy said on the tape . . . in a scorching desert and on the mountaintop where the cold winds blow." Joe said thoughtfully, "That's why I remembered it . . . everything was hazy and blurry sort of, like . . . like . . . Starsky was dreaming, but not really . . . it was weird like and distorted you know?" Collandra looked into the blond's pale, blue eyes.

Hutch thought for a moment, "You mean like a hallucination?"

"Yeah . . . it was all fuzzy around the edges and he was jumping from one dream to another, but the only thing that was similar was the man in both dreams."

Hutch sat up straighter at that, "What man?"

"This man with long hair and a bushy beard. Looked like an older guy . . . he had white streaks in his beard and he kept trying to get Starsky to drink from this bowl he held in his hands."

"Drink? Drink what? Did you . . . did you "see" what was in the bowl?" Hutch asked quickly, something about the word "drink" made the hairs on his neck rise.

"Nah, couldn't see what was in the bowl . . . too fuzzy . . . why?" Joe asked nonchalantly.

Hutch thought a moment and fast-forwarded the tape to almost the end of the conversation he had with Simon. They listened as the detective's angry voice was heard.

"If you don't want me to beat the fuck out of you and kick you down like the dog that you are, I suggest you tell me where your freaks are keeping my partner!"

Simon voice sounded so calm after Hutch's tirade, "That is all I have to say. Start on your quest brave knight, before your friend partakes of his last sip, for even now he lies dying as we speak . . . that is all I have to say." Hutch pressed the stop button.

"Simon likes to play head games. He uses synonyms a lot in his riddles. The word "sip" that he used is basically the same as the word "drink." Hutch thought for a moment, "Before your friend partakes of his last sip . . . for even now he lies dying as we speak." The blond murmured, repeating the words of the madman. "Damn! He talked about the desert and the cold mountaintop and you saw those things Joe, and you saw Marcus trying to get Starsky to drink something from that wooden bowl. Was it the same thing that they forced him to drink from your last vision?"

Collandra shook his head, "I don't know . . . it was too fuzzy, and wherever they're keeping him, it's dark." Joe sighed then looked up at Hutch with worried eyes, "The kid's getting weaker . . . I can "feel" it . . . they're wearing him down and he's fading fast . . . do you think that's what Marcus means when he says he's dying as we speak?"

Hutch dragged his fingers through his hair, frustration and worry evident in his agitation.

To hear Collandra speaking of Starsky weakening made the blond want to hit something in helpless rage. It killed him to hear that, killed him to know that with each minute gone by, his partner was suffering and growing closer to death. "Dammit!" he blond swore, "I don't know what that means . . ."

Hutch took a deep breath, trying to calm his anxious heart so that he could think like a detective. "Okay . . . okay . . . we know he was in a desert, and on a mountain somewhere in a hallucinogenic type of dream right?" At Collandra's silent nod, he continued, "Okay . . . Marcus also mentions a canyon of old in that same sentence . . . did you see Starsky in some sort of canyon?"

"Nah, only in the desert and on the mountaintop . . . let's rewind that part and listen to it again." Joe suggested. They rewound the tape and listened to that section once again . . .

"He is everywhere. In a desert of scorching heat, on a mountaintop where the cold winds blow, in a canyon of old, where the flame of the sun burns down upon the Lord's house where the faithful once worshipped, only to leave, abandoned forevermore . . ."

For a while they sat quietly, each man lost in his own thought. Finally, the psychic looked up, "I can try again . . . I mean with the jacket . . . it's getting harder though to pick up on him . . . he's weak and hurting . . . from what I get, it's like they're trying to take him over or convert him or something, you know? That's what it 'feels' like on my end. Maybe that's what Marcus means when he says Starsky's dying . . . it's like they want the kid to accept them into his mind and heart and he needs to die to self, to become one of them."

Hutch nodded, his mind racing as he tried to piece the puzzle together, "In a canyon of old, where the flame of the sun burns down upon the Lord's house where the faithful once worshipped . . ."

"Well, a church is a house of the Lord," Collandra said brightly, trying to help, and the only old canyon we have around here is that road that leads up to the hills . . ."

"Yes!" Hutch said snapping his fingers, "The Old Canyon Road!" Hutch thought for a moment, "You know . . . there used to be a beautiful Catholic Church that stood at the top of that hill for years." The blond's eyes widened, his pale, blue orbs locked onto the psychic's, "Joe, that church was destroyed in an arson's fire six years ago, they never rebuilt it, and the structure's been abandoned . . . oh my god Joe, that's where they have Starsky!"

To be continued . . .