Chapter 5
Hutch's last sight was of his chained partner being manhandled from the van, his body lying limply between the two thugs, who'd obviously knocked him unconscious.
As he had seen the two men attack the other prison guards and enter the vehicle, he'd gone for his gun, thankful that he had taken all the time to prepare it. He tried to take aim with the weapon at the closest man, a great gorilla of a man who was intent on getting to Starsky, but was fractionally too slow. He saw his partner kick out at the black man and saw the foot connect, pushing Tyrone off balance. It was that single action which had probably saved Hutch's life. Instead of hitting the blond in the upper left chest, where he had been aiming, his shot was diverted upwards and hit the left shoulder instead. It was a glancing blow, which sent the blond spinning backwards, hitting his head on the bulkhead of the van. His world spun out of control, all the time Hutch knowing that now was not a good time to black out. His last thought as unconsciousness took him was that he knew his partner was now in serious trouble.
He had regained consciousness a little later as a medic hovered over him, prying his eyes open to shine that infernal torch into them. His head ached with a fury and the skin around his left eye felt stiff. He raised his hand to touch the spot and it came away red, so he knew he must have cut it on his way down to the floor.
Hutch groaned and struggled to sit up, pain lancing through his shoulder as he levered himself upright. The medic was talking to him.
'Hey, my name's Paul, who are you?'
'Hutchinson. Ken Hutchinson' Hutch grunted 'friends call me Hutch'.
'OK Hutch. I'm just going to check you over. How many fingers have I got up?' the medic waved his hand in front of the blonde's face.
He squinted, screwing his eyes up to clear his vision. 'Three. And I'm in California and its 1976'
'Ah, I see you've been down this route before' Paul smiled and held a hand on Hutch's right shoulder as he tried to get up. 'Just stay there a while, I need to see to your shoulder. Can you tell me what happened?'
'Shit happened, that's what'. Hutch spat. 'Three goons came in here looking for my partn…prisoner. I tried to stop 'em and they shot me. Go figure. Look, I need to get to my Captain. Need to find Ramsey, OK? Just patch it up and I'll be fine'. He winced as the medic wiped the blood from the wounds on his head and shoulder, poking and prying at them.
'Well, you're lucky, Hutch. It's a flesh wound. Gone right through the top of your shoulder and I think it probably feels worse than it is. But six inches lower and this would have been a whole other story! I'll clean it and put a dressing on. The head wound needs a stitch, but that can wait, although I think you probably have a concussion. Can you get up? Slowly. Good'.
The blond stood swaying at the back of the van, waiting until the vehicle stopped spinning before he followed the medic round to the back of the ambulance and perched on the tailgate. As Paul washed the wound on his shoulder with saline, which stung like the devil, added a couple of steri strips, and placed a white gauze pad on top, taping it down with micropore adhesive, he looked around him at the body in the front of the prison van and the two still unconscious bodies of the guards. Paul moved up to the cut on Hutch's head, cleaning and steri stripping it before finally standing away from his patient. He added a sling. 'How's the pain now?' he asked, reaching for a bottle from the shelf in the ambulance.
'Not bad' the detective lied, knowing that strong pain killers were only going to knock him out, and he needed to be looking for his partner, like, now. He rose shakily and looked around for the black and white backup he had been promised. The two patrolmen who had sorted out the disturbance in the shop were sitting on the hood of their car, knowing Hutch was undercover and not wanting to blow it.
Hutch thanked the medic and with promises to call in at Memorial if he had double vision or nausea, he made a big show of going over to the policemen and asking if they could take him back to the jail. Once in the car and moving, he quickly asked for their microphone and asked for a patch through to Dobey.
'Cap? Hutch. Starsky's gone. They got to the prison van and three of 'em took us out whilst they got to him. I'm coming in for backup. Can you get hold of Samuels and Miller, I need to speak to Ramsey, now?'
Dobey gave a curt 'right' as Hutch redirected the police car back to the Metro.
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The blond detective took a brief moment to change from the guards uniform into the spare set of clothes he always kept at work for emergencies. As he shook of the uniform trousers, a pen fell out of his pocket onto the floor. Picking it up, he stared at the BIC inscription on the side. A little piece of his partner he could keep with him, he stowed it carefully in the breast pocket of his shirt. Once more comfortably and less conspicuously attired, he ran up the steps and barged into Dobey's office.
The big man was sat behind his desk issuing orders into his phone. He looked up as Hutch burst in. Putting the phone down he looked at the dressing on Hutch's forehead. 'How bad are you?' he asked.
'Been better' replied the blond. 'Got a crease on the shoulder and hit my head goin' down. Medics saw to it at the scene. Nothin' serious. You got hold of Samuels yet?'
Dobey nodded. 'They've had the hearing and taken Ramsey back to the safe house. They've told Ramsey about what went down with you an' Starsky, so he's even more happy to co-operate now he knows Ramirez is gunning for him. You OK to drive?' he added as Hutch suddenly turned pale and sat down suddenly on the armchair in the office.
Hutch closed his eyes a moment to get control of his stomach which was threatening to eject his breakfast all over Dobey's office floor. 'Yeah, just a bit dizzy, but I'm OK to drive. Did any of the black and whites see what happened to Starsk? Where did they take him? What sort of vehicle?'
Dobey shook his head. 'Dumb ass patrolmen. There was some screamin' in the shop near the courthouse and they went to investigate that. There was a tall thin guy shouting at the top of his voice, but as soon as they went in, he stopped and left. They stayed a while to sort out the shopkeeper and when they came out, they'd missed the whole damn thing. The other black and white drew up just as the ambulance arrived. They'd been held up by a robbery on the corner of 12th and Adams. Passer by said they saw some men getting out of a blue panel van, but didn't get the number. I've got every available patrolman looking for all vehicles matching that description, but nothin' so far'. He pinched the bridge of his nose, suddenly very, very tired.
Hutch pushed himself to his feet, fighting the waves of dizziness that threatened to send him plummeting to the floor. 'I'm goin' up to the safe house now Cap. If ya hear anything, you know where I am'.
Dobey knew better than to reason with the blond that he ought to rest and that others could look for his partner. Having been close to his partner during his street days, then loosing him to a bullet, he knew better than most how his two detectives operated. That no one else would be able to put Hutch's mind at rest and that only Hutch would move heaven and earth to seek out and rescue his partner.
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Hutch drove fast through the downtown city traffic, weaving between the cars on the highway. Once he got out into open country he gunned the engine even more as he climbed up from the bay and out into the hills behind the city. The safe house was a 45-minute drive from the Metro and Hutch used every minute to go back over the previous twelve hours.
OK, so, what do I know so far? There were three men. Was the screaming man in the shop connected with them to provide a diversion? OK. Three or four men. One was tall and thin (make that two if the diversion man is associated). One is short and bald and one is built like a gorilla. They knew Ramsey was going to court. They planned the assault, so they were organised. They had to be into the drugs scene to be interested. Or did they? Were they disgruntled dealers, or had Ramirez already become involved and put out a contract on Ramsey?
He reached for the microphone and Minnie answered.' Hi honey, it's Hutch' he started. 'Can you get me Huggy Bear on 555 2651?'
Minnie confirmed the number and a moment later, Huggy's voice sounded on the other end of the line.
'Hug. Starsky's been taken. I need to know if you know of any of these men'. He gave a brief description of the four henchmen. 'They may be on the drugs scene, or they could be hired hitmen. Ya got anything?'
'Nada, my friend' Huggy replied, 'but I'll keep my ear to the ground.
'Thanks Hug, and be careful. They're mean and nasty, OK?'
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The road swept past, the act of driving having a calming influence on the blond as he eased the big car round the bends of the canyon road.
He came at last to the turn off down to the little lake and the safe house. As he approached he cut the engine out of precaution and idled the car up to the front of the house. As he drew up and put the car into park, Samuels came out to greet him.
'Well you look like shit' he opened as Hutch wearily opened the car door and got out. 'Sorry about Starsky. You got any information on who's got him?'
The blond was about to answer when the ground suddenly rushed up to meet him, and he felt the taste of dirt in his mouth.
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Hutch opened his eyes and for the second time that day wondered just exactly where he was. The familiar face of Miller was at his side in a moment, handing him a glass of water.
'Hey, Hutch, you OK? You took a nosedive out there'.
Hutch sat slowly up and realised he was in the small sitting area of the safe house, along with Miller, Samuels and Ramsey, who hovered in the background, unsure of himself. He touched his hand to his throbbing head, then realised that probably wasn't such a good idea, as blood started flowing again.
'I'll live' he grunted 'had a little altercation with a bullet and a van down town'. He clutched his shoulder and rotated it slightly to ease the ache. Looking around him and getting down to business, he spied Ramsey.
'Jack, they've taken my partner, Starsky, and I need to get him back before anything real bad happens to him. I need you to think about any of the men Ramirez used'. He gave Ramsey the descriptions, adding that he thought the tall screaming man might have been a part of the heist.
Ramsey sat down, thinking hard. 'Was the tall man…….well, was he simple……like he didn't know what was going on/'
'How the fuck do I know' Hutch rasped. 'I was dancing with a big black guy in the back of a prison van whilst me an' my partner tried to save your sorry ass from some drug baron. I didn't give them an IQ test whilst I was about it. Do you know them?'
Ramsey hitched back in his chair, intimidated by the blonde's outburst. He was more than grateful that these men had taken him seriously and had taken him into their protection. He was also grateful that he wasn't the one now in the clutches of the other men. He had liked the brunette detective right from the start. He was funny and likeable and had an innocent quality to him, whilst the blond was almost like a father figure; the quieter of the two. He didn't like to think of anything bad happening to either of the men.
'If they are the men I think they are, they're mean and dangerous. They're known as the Terriers and they work the East Side, but I haven't seen 'em around for a long time. They're hired guns for anyone for the right money. If they're the ones who got your partner, God help him'.
Hutch swallowed hard. 'Do they use any buildings? Any houses? Can you think of anywhere they might have taken my partner?'
Jack shook his head. 'They don't use anywhere regularly. Too easy to get caught that way. If I do think of anywhere I'll tell ya as soon as'. He paused. 'I'm sorry. I liked Starsky'.
The blond rounded on him. 'What do ya mean "liked". He's not dead yet an' he's not gonna be if I have my way. So you'd better get thinking. 'Cos if I don't find him, I'm gonna find Ramirez myself and feed you to him a piece at a time'. He got up and stormed out of the house as Ramsey stared after him.
Both Samuels and Miller knew better than to mess with Hutch where his partner was concerned, and let him go. They looked at the dark haired man in their custody, who was now shaking so hard the settee was wobbling.
'Hey, chill' offered Samuels. 'Hutch has worked with Starsky for the past seven years. They've been through some pretty heavy stuff together an' it tends to make you a bit intense when something like this happens. He'll be fine. If anyone can find Starsky he can'. He added, looking over at his own partner, and hoping that his comforting words would come true.
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In Spain, Ramirez was having problems of his own as he took one of the most important phone calls of his life.
'Si, Senior. No I don't have the money yet. But I will get it, I just need more time'.
The voice on the other end of the line responded 'I have just taken all the money from your bank account in Grand Cayman. Your account is Basle will be gone in thirty minutes. You're wife will be gone tomorrow. Get my money now' and the phone went dead.
Ramirez put his head in his hands. After developing his little business from humble beginnings, he now enjoyed the lifestyle of the rich and famous. He had started in the back street of San Sebastian, with no shoes, no education and no food. But he had become involved in drugs at an early age, learning the ropes and making contacts. Five years ago he had it the big time when a Colombian cartel invested in his goods, and he never looked back.
But he could never truly enjoy the spoils of his success, the big house, the butler, the fine food and wine. The way the whole drugs world worked was such that he could never relax, constantly looking over his shoulder for guns, goons and those looking for a free ride. Oh sure, he hired the best body guards, but if he could buy them, so could his competitors. Finally even the steady stream of beautiful girls had not been enough to make the lifestyle worthwhile. And now this. His whole life's work down the pan because of one crummy little dealer nearly 3000 miles away.
He reached for the phone to see how the Terriers were doing with their latest acquisition.