Disclaimer: I do not own the guys; I just tend to play with them a bit…
Dedication: To many of my friend's that inspire and sometimes push me to write…THANK YOU ALL!
Warnings: This one may be a bit dark at times and some scenes of torture lie ahead…The views of this story are in no way reflected by the author!
No Turning Back
Chapter Seven
Rigsby was showing Hutch around the maze of buildings as Hutch's fears heightened. He witnessed several cells, filled with prisoners, or more accurately, victims. All men, that had one thing in common, their religion. Hutch was nauseated; he wanted to find the nearest bathroom. The conditions those men lived in was deplorable. He knew that he was here for one reason now, and that was to save these men from their doomed fate. They were just making there way back to the office where Kiles had been, as Hutch's mind raced, he thought about everyone in the camp, and even those outside, ones that were currently being preyed on. He worried about the new man that had been brought in and what they may be doing to this poor soul. Out of the inmates that he had just observed, several of them bore evidence of extreme abuse. They were thin, week and many had scared that Hutch had deduced they had probably acquired at there new residence. The tall blond could only imagine the horrors they were forced to endure. He shook his head, trying to clear the mental pictures and trying to detach himself, emotionally from this situation. He knew that he could not become emotionally involved in his cases, doing so often cost officers their lives.
They entered the office as Rigsby closed the door behind Hutch, offering him a chair across from the desk.
"Pretty impressive operation you run here." Hutch stated as he tried to look at ease with what he had just witnessed.
"We try." Rigsby answered as he took the chair behind the desk.
Hutch eyed the phone on the desk, wishing that he could nonchalantly pick it up and call Metro, request back-up and get his fellow officers there to break up this concentration type camp. He knew he would have to bide his time to avoid certain casualties.
"So tell me, how long do you usually keep them and train them…what happens to them after you're done with your so called conditioning?" Hutch inquired.
"We keep them as long as necessary, on the average of 2-6 months, but we've had some men that never conform, they never leave." Rigsby explained.
"Where do you find all these guys?" Hutch continued to prod.
"Mostly at the bar, or in that general vicinity. They're mostly transient, loners, no familes. Occasionally, things go wrong…and we get the wrong type with the wrong background."
"Whatya do with them?" The blond was afraid of the answer to come.
"Well, we do what ever we can…try to wipe their memory clean, or if that don't work, they become permanent missing persons…But then in Billy's case…that was Montag's screw up…took a boy and his dad…turned out okay, as a matter of fact, if it weren't for the boy, the dad may have never of come around and obeyed us, but we vowed to raise his kid, feed him and train him until he is ready for sale, in return for his cooperation. His dad ended up bringing us in our highest dollar amount yet, he was still in good physical condition and we had full cooperation."
"Lucky you!" Hutch felt the bile burn his throat as it rose from his stomach.
The phone on the desk rang startling Hutch as he jumped in surprise. Rigsby reached for the phone, placing the receiver to his ear.
"Rigsby here."
He listened intently as his eyes widened in excitement.
"We'll be right there." He responded and then hung the phone up, heading immediately to the door.
"You're in luck Kent, looks like we have a new recruit that is being a bit uncooperative, Kiles wants to invite you to watch how we deal with insubordinates like this, its important he finds out if you got the stomach for this kinda work or not. Let's go!" He ordered as he pulled open the door, Hutch jumping up, running to the door and following Rigsby out the door and into the courtyard.
ooooo
Starsky fought with everything he could, but it wasn't much, between his already battered body and his sprained ankle, they quickly had the brunet stripped of all his clothing.
They had managed to shackle his wrists, threading the chain through the cages roof, and pulling him up so that his feet barely touched the concrete floor. He still wore the sack over his head as he tried futilely to remove the tightly cinched burlap. He could feel the rough material rubbing his neck raw as he attempted to get at it with his shoulders and by twisting his neck.
He struggled with his confines as he grunted and cursed. "Who the fuck are you? What do you want with me?" Starsky spewed nervously, his fear starting to take over. The bag that covered his head was roughly ripped off, bending his neck awkwardly, the ropes rubbing harshly across his neck and face.
He was answered with a forceful blow to his backside, right across the small of his back. He knew they were using some type of a think stick to deliver his punishment. Kiles and his men already noted the bruised body evident of a previous beating, but having no problem adding to the décor.
"Tell me, what's your name Jew boy?" Kiles asked as he circled his merchandise, eyeing it with admiration.
"Screw you!" Starsky replied as he received another brutal blow across his abdomen.
"Name!" Kiles yelled.
Starsky gasped and unintentionally coughed up what small amount of fluid he had in his stomach, spitting it out in front of him, some of it dribbling onto his chest.
Starsky didn't answer, he couldn't.
oooooo
Hutch and Rigsby walked across the poorly lit courtyard, the sparse lamps barely illuminating the three cages lined up in the center. He remembered seeing one man being led into the center cage, but now could almost make out some commotion occurring in and around the cage on the left. He heard some yelling, something about names, he heard someone mumble, responding and then coughing in agony. As he moved closer to the action that was playing of in front of him, his heart skipped a beat as he recognized something vaguely familiar in the voice of the prisoner.
Several people had surrounded the cage; it was difficult to get a good view of what was happening inside the box. He stopped dead in his tracks as he saw his partners, battered, naked body hanging in the small cell.
"Starsk," he gasped quietly as he swallowed hard, the panic in his face, the concern in his eyes, blanketing his face. Fortunately, Rigsby was far enough ahead of him, that he didn't hear Hutch's slip.
His mind raced furiously, trying to figure out how he was going to get them both out of here. This threw a huge wrench in his plan, now he didn't just have to think about his own life, but his partner's as well. And from the looks of things, Starsky was in quite a bit more trouble than Hutch was.
He was suddenly aware a smaller hand, grasping his, as he looked to his side, seeing the young boy, Billy, watching the proceedings, terribly frightened, not blinking. His hand shook subtly as Hutch gently squeezed it, wondering what this boy had been through and for how long.
Hutch paused briefly, wanting to keep the boy back. Montag approached the under cover detective, handing him a billy club, the ones like they used in the academy.
"I brought you a present," he slapped Hutch on the shoulder, "Don't worry, there's no need to thank me, it was my pleasure." He stated as he continued past Hutch, walking towards the building. It was all Hutch could do to keep from tearing after the man, tackling him in the court yard and ripping his heart out with his bare hands. What had he done to his partner? What kind of sick son of a bitch would do this without giving it a second thought? The blond thought as he looked back at Starsky, hanging in his cell, his body shivering. The rain began to pick up again, like the skies were opening up, grieving with Hutch.
He was going to have to play this right, in order to get both of them out of there, he couldn't blow his cover or they would both be dead with in a matter of minutes. He looked down at the boy that stood beside him and whispered.
"Wait here, 'kay?" He encouraged the boy, who still didn't take his eyes off the unfolding events, but he did nod slightly in acknowledgement.
Hutch found himself breathing harder as he crossed the courtyard. All he wanted was contact, actual physical contact with his partner. He wanted to tell Starsky to hang in there; he would get them both out of this. He wanted to tell him it was okay…he wanted to tell him, he was sorry, for hitting him back at the bar; he wanted to tell him, he was mad that they brought him here. He wanted to tell him, he loved him. Hutch's mind raced as he got closer and closer to his partner, trying to figure out how he was going to pull this off. He knew he had two choices, either blow his cover and probably get them both killed, or play along for a little longer, waiting for just the right moment to make a break for it, a break for it, with Starsky at his side.
His palm grasped the club in his right hand, his fingers squeezing it, and then releasing it slightly, just to wrap tightly around it again. He thought about trying to take everyone that stood near his partner out with that one club, he wondered how many skulls he would be able to crack before they killed him and Starsky too. The rain had slowed to a gently mist that gracefully drifted downwards. Hutch felt every footstep resonate in his ears as he closed in. The other men around the cage back up, making room for the visitor.
Kyle stood next to Starsky's naked battered body. Hutch noted the bruised face, and the several marks and bruises covering his friend's mid section as his body twisted slightly, his face contorted in agony. The blonde's gaze traveled downwards, noting the still wrapped, but very swollen ankle. He felt his other half's pain as he stepped inside the box.
"One more chance," Kiles fumed, "What's…your…name?" he emphasized every word.
"J…Johnnn S…Smith…" Starsky stuttered sarcastically as his teeth chattered together, the cold burrowing deep inside his body, making its way to his bones. He suddenly felt like he may never be able to get warm again, it was that deep inside him.
Kiles made a move towards the prisoner, but Hutch jumped in front of him, angrily shoving the club in his hand against Starsky's throat, pulling the back of his neck forward with his hand. Hutch's ice blue eyes locked with Starsky's. They grew moist, tearing up in sadness for him, swallowing hard; he spoke as his voice cracked.
"I believe the man asked you a question, boy!" Hutch seethed through his teeth, chocking on every word, his face contorted in sadness that others read as anger. Starsky read his partner perfectly, knowing that the blond was being ripped apart on the inside, "An' I suggest you answer him, before I make you sorry you were ever born." Hutch's eyes pled with Starsky's to play along.
"Meyers….D…Dave Meyers…" Starsky finally spat out, exhausted and relieved at the same time that he had found Hutch but knowing full well that he may have put him in more danger than he was already in. If Hutch broke and blew his cover to save Starsky, then the brunet knew he was a dead man, he felt instant regret for adding to his friend's dilemma, but it was too late to do anything about that now, except play along, just like Hutch's eyes were instructing him to do.
Hutch's hands could feel how cold Starsky was, his flesh like ice, he could feel him trembling as he tried to continue the contact as long as possible, if nothing else but to just warm him up a little bit, allowing his body heat to transfer to his partner.
The slightest hint of a twinkle in Starsky's eyes filled Hutch's heart with hope. He knew his friend read his thoughts and knew that Starsky would fight to stay alive, putting all his trust in his partner, to get them both out of this. He also knew that if the moment presented itself, Starsky would do the same, he would do anything he could to get them both to safety, even if it meant going along as a prisoner for the time being. Starsky inhaled deeply as Hutch released his grip on him. They vowed to each other as they finally broke their gaze, Hutch turning around to find himself face to face with Kiles.
"I appreciate your enthusiasm, but I think you just need to back off until you learn how things run around here. See, this is my show, my camp, my prisoners. He belongs to me, and I don't ever want to see you interrupt my sessions unless specifically asked to, by me! Is that clear?" Kiles stood toe to toe with the tall blond, Hutch's stare never wavering.
"Crystal." Was the only answer Hutch was able to give; he took a chance and accomplished what he intended to, contact with his partner.
"Now step out!" Kiles ordered as Hutch passed him and exited the cage.
Kiles looked at one of his men. Cut him down." He instructed the man to release Starsky from his current position; he then turned around him, making eye contact with Rigsby. "Take Kent back to the office, I'll meet up with both of you there." He said as he returned his attention to his prisoner that was being released.
Hutch looked back over his shoulder at his partner as they cut his ropes and allowed him to drop harshly to the cold concrete floor, bare naked and shivering uncontrollably now. The tall blond kept one eye on him until he was led inside the building, unable to see him any longer. Hutch felt the anxiety begin to take him over once again as he began to ask questions of Rigsby.
"So what happens next?" He asked as they walk down the corridor.
"Well we wait, in the office, just like Jason said." He answered, confused.
"No, not me, I mean to the prisoner," he hooked his thumb behind him, "that Jew in the cage, now what?"
"Well, now he begins his conditioning treatment, Jason always oversees the first phase," Rigsby explained as he opened the door to the small office.
oooo
Jason held out his hand, palm up as one of his men handed over a bracelet, complete with a thick chain and small padlock. Starsky had struggled to pull himself up to his knees, gasping.
"From here on out, it don't matter what your name is, now you'll be known as 12687." He said as he knelt to place the bracelet, engraved with his ID number around his wrist.
The thought of what was happening sickened Starsky, without thought, his anger erupted as his fist launched forward, connecting with Jason's jaw. He didn't intend to strike the man that held his life in his hand, but the hot headed brunet was unable to control the action although he regretted it, the second he did it. In the matter of about 2 seconds Starsky felt himself being tackled, punched in his kidney and forced to the ground, the pain that he had been feeling previously had now subsided and the brunet was beginning to become numb, part because of his injuries and partly due to the cold.
He saw Jason wipe the blood from his lip as he walked towards him. He barely remembered the feeling of the cold bracelet being locked in place, tightly around his wrists as many hands held him down.
oooo
Hutch was looking around; he noticed everything in the room, from the small tiny window up above the door, to the file cabinet in the corner of the room. He also noted the old style phone on the desk and realized that was the only phone he had seen thus far. The two men sat in the office, the lights dimmed and brightened again, just to dim again, Hutch's eyes raised to the ceiling, looking around, his brow furrowing in question.
"What's that?" Hutch asked, his posture straightening.
"Our electrical grid is pretty outdated, that happens every time Jason conducts first phases, I am afraid the surge from the shock therapy plays havoc on our system." Rigsby explained as Hutch's heart sank, skipping a beat, the contents of his stomach rising in his throat.
To Be Continued…