The Major Incident
Chapter 5
The night before his departure, Hutch and Dobey met Starsky at the Pits for a final drink with Huggy. The past two days had been a whirlwind of planning, instructions and, yes, the dreaded haircut. The result was shorter that Starsky had worn it for some time, but nowhere near what Hutch could only guess would be regulation. It amused the blond that even now, his partner had to have one piece of defiance against the system.
The four men sat round the table, beers in front of them. They were unusually quiet, each lost in their own thoughts.
Starsky had spent the past two days going over things with Hutch and Dobey. The travel documents had arrived. Both men would meet their transport aircraft at an army airfield just outside Bay City. There would be a flight of about four and a half hours. A military transport would meet them at the airfield outside Guatemala City and take them to the camp at Lake Atitlan. Hutch's cover was that he would be researching the effects of altitude on the troops.
Starsky had been given a list of the men who would be under his 'command' - a total of 43 men and 5 women, including 12 medical personnel. Hutch would make that number up to thirteen, and Starsky hoped that that wasn't a bad omen.
'Well come on guys, I'm only gonna be gone a little while, and Hutch'll be there the week after next. This is meant to be a pleasant drink, not a wake!' Starsky made an effort to get back to his old self, if only for the sake of his friends. He felt sick at the prospect of yet another tour of military duty, but, what the hell. The three other men played along, and slowly the atmosphere thawed, although some of the laughter still held a brittle edge to it, and Hutch kept glancing sideways at the shorter man, still feeling his partners' discomfort.
The evening wore on, and finally they all said their goodbyes, and went their separate ways.
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The next morning Hutch arrived at Starsky's apartment to take him to the airfield. He bounded up the steps and was just about to open the door when Starsky appeared.
Hutch gasped. Gone were the blue jeans and red tee shirt, the worn brown leather jacket and the ubiquitous blue Adidas. In their place, Starsky wore green army fatigues over a plain black tee shirt. Over his left breast pocket a white patch labelled him as Major D Starsky. His trouser bottoms were tucked into regulation black army boots and a baseball style green cap covered his now shorter hair. The look was completed by regulation black sunshades. The whole ensemble made Starsky look older, taller, and, Hutch admitted to himself, even more handsome.
'Wow' was the only thing Hutch could think to say.
'And good morning to you too' his partner responded. 'Wassa matter Hutch, ya got a thing about men in uniforms?'
'Well, it's a completely different look for you, Gordo. I don't know whether to laugh or salute! It just took me a bit off balance. How ya feelin'?'
'Like I'm going to my own execution. Oh, and to add insult to injury, the condemned man has to take his last drive in that heap of junk' he nodded towards Hutch's battered car. 'I almost wish I hadn't taken the Torino back to Merle's for a tune up. With any luck that rust bucket'll die on the way, an' I'll have to call the whole thing off'.
Hutch caught the slight hitch in his friends' voice and knew there was something less than a joke in Starsky's comments.
'OK then, lets go do this' he said quickly, and headed towards the car, opening the trunk to let the shorter man put his regulation kit bag inside.
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Approaching the airfield, Starsky looked over to his partner. 'Any last thoughts, Blitz? Now's the time to change your mind – there's still time'.
They had completed the journey mostly in silence, and now Hutch drew the car to a halt. 'I've made up my mind, and you know it. Today's Tuesday. I'll be there a week on Friday. I know to report to your office when I get there, and if you get the chance, you know my telephone number. Just be careful and don't do anything stupid, OK?'
They smiled at each other, before Starsky pulled the blond into a bear hug of an embrace. He squeezed his partner one last time, then hurriedly got out of the car and jogged round to the trunk. He extracted his kit bag and without a backwards glance, set off to the small wooden hut at the edge of the air strip to wait for the plane.
Hutch watched his back, smiling. He shrugged – Starsky always did hate soapy scenes.