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 Nineteen
Starsky lifted his left hand to shield his eyes from the glare of the oncoming lights. His gaze darted to the side as he made sure that Billy was covered and well out of sight. He struggled to push himself up, back into a sitting position, once again using the tree behind him for support against his back. He inhaled sharply, holding his breath, sucking the air through his teeth as he fought through the pains that were shooting through his head and across his badly beaten body.
"Miss me?" Andrews hissed as he knelt beside the brunet as Montag had climbed out from behind the wheel, scanning the area for any sight of the tall blond. "Where's Hutch?" Andrews asked, dipping his head looking though his brow at the soon to be prisoner of his.
"He had a date…" Starsky gasped, struggling to speak, and still trying to sound tough, "with your wife, sends his regards though!" The dark haired man squeezed his eyes shut tightly as a hot stab of agony shot through him.
The knuckles of Andrews right hand, connected with Starsky's jaw, snapping his head to the side. The brunet was surprised by the lack of feeling that he experienced by the punch, wondering if it was from a bad hit, or a lack of feeling he was experiencing thanks to all that his body had endured over the past 48-72 hours. His brow wrinkled, he couldn't remember how long it had been, the hours seemed to blur together in a haze of confusion. His head swam, as his vision blurred, he felt like his body was paralyzed, wanting to fight back, but unable to move.
Andrews stood up, hovering over the injured officer as he enjoyed the feeling of control and power, pausing briefly to absorb the euphoric sensation. Starsky was barely aware of the noises and activities that were playing out right in front of him. Billy climbed out from the bushes, jumping up on the rock that he had been hiding behind, and making one ditch effort, he leapt through the air, attaching himself to Andrews back like a leach to its victim. One of his arms locked around the officer's neck as the other flailed wildly, striking the man in the head as he turned in circles trying to rid himself of the pesky intruder. Montag ran up and pulled Billy off of Andrews with one hand strategically placed, grasping a handful of the boy dark hair, and snapping his head back.
"Son of a bitch, what the fuck do you think you're doing you little asshole?" Andrews spat as Montag held the boy up, in front of the officer, preparing him to take his punishment.
"I'm not going to let you hurt him!" The spry young man spat as he struggled to free himself from Montag's grasp, earning him a round of laughter from both men.
"Dammit, Billy." Starsky whispered as he struggled against his own body, wanting to get up and save the boy, his body not following even one of the commands he was giving it.
Starsky managed to get his knees underneath him, gasping heavily as his arms fought to lift his weight off the ground. His elbows buckled as he fell back down, the side of his face, connecting with the dirt below him.
Andrews smiled as he took one step towards the young man, admiring his bravery, but denouncing his insubordination.
"Now, now, now Billy, I know I've taught you better than that. Haven't I always been good to you?" The blond street cop orated, "Haven't I fed you? Given you a cot to sleep in?" He saw the fear in the boys eyes increase as they grew wider, "Didn't I keep that fucking Jew of a dad of yours alive?" He spat, his voice rising in anger as he stepped toe to toe with the small man. His right lifted his right arm over his left shoulder, bringing it backwards viciously as the back of his hand connected with the side of the boys face.
"Andrews, stop…leave 'im 'lone." Starsky gasped, his body still writhing, trying desperately to get up and do something. "Please don't hurt 'im." Starsky pled in vain.
Billy brought his head back around to the front of him, a trickle of blood already dripping down from the corner of his mouth as he looked defiantly at the man before him.
"You're a tough brat, I'll give you that!" Andrews concluded as he balled up his fist and struck the child in the abdomen, instantly doubling him in half, listening to the satisfying sounds of the boy gasping and heaving, fighting just to breathe. Montag let go of Billy's collar and allowed the child to fall to the ground, a puff of dirt being puffed up from the impact of his collapse. Both Montag and Andrews turned their back of the coughing child as they returned their attention back to the brunet by the tree.
Starsky could barely make out the feeble whines that escaped the brave young man as Billy balled up into the fetal position, pulling his knees up to his chest instinctively to try and protect himself from further assault. His face was against the rough and rocky ground, every gasp of air that he puffed through his mouth, blew the dust up and into his eyes. He blinked hard, trying to keep the painful particles from reaching their target, his eyes watering profusely, themselves trying to wash the dirt from them naturally.
Starsky remained on the ground, sensing the approaching men, vaguely aware of everything that had just transpired. "You s'n of' abitch," he attempted to shout, a mere whisper escaping his lips.
"One more time, where's Hutch?" Andrews repeated his original query.
"Go t'hell." Starsky coughed, knowing that either way he was a dead man, and he would be damned if he would allow Hutch to join him.
Billy remained on the ground, huddled in a ball, short quick gasps escaping from his mouth.
Andrews grabbed a fistful Starsky's dark curls, lifted his head up, and slammed it back onto the ground. The brunet almost lost consciousness completely as he fought through the urge to succumb to the blissful darkness that was beckoning him.
As Andrews stood, straightening his posture, Montag and he both trained their ears to a far off wail of sirens as they listened to the coming nearer. Montag looked at his temporary partner, his eyes widened with concern, "It's the fucking cops." He stated the obvious, irritating the uniformed police officer.
"No shit Sherlock!" Andrews retorted sharply.
"Who the hell called the cops?" Montag asked, more speaking out loud then truly expecting an answer.
His eyes grew big in terror, his face paled as he witnessed something he never expected. Andrews lifted his gun, pointing it at Montag. "I did!" Montag answered as he pulled the trigger, sending a bullet right through the man's skull, his eyes frozen open for all eternity as he fell to the ground, killed instantly, dead before he even hit the dusty and rocky floor.
oooooOOOOOooooo
Hutch was not that far away when he heard the shot ring out though the woods. His head snapped back around in the direction that he had left his partner. His heart jumped into his throat as panic began to set in, the pictures that flashed through his mind of the possibilities of what the end result of that gun shot was, made him nauseous as he turned on his heels in mid stride and raced back to his friend. Reaching inside his jacket, he retrieved the gun, cursing the fact that he didn't have the forethought to have left the damn gun with his wounded partner. He flew over the ground, his long legs carrying him swiftly, even gracefully over the terrain. He ran with a sense of urgency that took over his body, his mind racing, constantly think of the 'what if' factor as he neared the clearing.
He slowed down, his pace less frantic, moving on the side of caution as he carefully scanned the area, gun raised to the sky, eyes darting around with the senses of a hawk. He placed his back up against a tree and peaking his head out carefully, he saw Andrews towering over his partner. Noticing that Starsky was braced up against the tree, his head moving around dazedly, he scanned the area for little Billy. His brow furrowed as he attempted to focus on the rough terrain, his heart beating rapidly as he found it difficult to slow his breathing. Licking his lips, closing his eyes tightly, he tried desperately to think of a way out. His mind was racing just as fast as his heart was, making it difficult to concentrate. He had no idea if Andrews had more people with him and where they were positioned, so his eyes kept a constant scan of the area.
He saw Andrews return his attention to Starsky at the base of the tree, placing the gun near his partner's forehead, piercing his lips together as he heard the officer growl, "Where's your fucking partner?" he spewed menacingly.
"Andrews!" Hutch called out from behind his shelter. "Let him go!" he shouted, trying to come off unnerved.
Andrews perked up, looking in Hutch's direction, "Come out, come out where ever you are…" he taunted as he spoke melodically.
"Drop your gun, and I'll come out unarmed…" Hutch shouted, his anxiety peaking. "We can talk about this…it's not too late you know."
"Tell you what Hutchinson!" Andrews yelled back, his eyes honing in on the general direction that Hutch was hiding, "you come out, with your hands up, an' I'll think about not splatterin' your Jew friends' brains all over this mighty Oak!"
Hutch heard the sirens drawing nearer as he knew that he had to buy themselves some time, he thought about his next move, stalling long enough to get them a few precious seconds before sighing and stepping away from the tree. He held both of his hands high up in the air, his magnum pointed towards the darkened sky.
Andrews shoved the barrel of his gun, deeper into the temple of the brunet in front of him as he shouted out at the tall blond. "Now just drop your gun, and maybe I will let him live!"
Hutch looked at the crazed man, the sirens so close, but seemed so far away, "It's over Andrews, the cops are gonna be here, you might as well let it go." He tried to convince the man that held his friends life in his hand.
"Drop the fucking gun!!!" He shouted Hutch worried that Andrews was being pushed to the limit, and that he would, in fact, carry out his threat at any moment.
The tall blond reluctantly dropped the weapon to the ground, looking at Andrews, trying to keep the situation under control for just a few more seconds. "Look, its okay, take it easy, we…we can help you, I swear we can…"
The Nordic's blood ran cold as he witnessed Andrews, smile evilly and raise his weapon towards him.
"You're as dumb as your friend here!" He quipped, pulling back the hammer with his thumb, tilting his head to the side slightly and pulling the trigger.
"Hutchhhhhhhhhhhh!" Starsky shouted out as he looked to the side, seeing the tall blond fall to the ground with a sickening thud.
The injured brunet struggled against his body as he attempted to rise, seeing Billy out of the corner of his eye get to his feet, running up to Andrews and beating him against the back with his fists, causing the unaffected man to snort in laughter.
"No! No! No!" Billy screamed at the man as he continued to beat against him with his fists. "You killed him, just like my dad! I hate you! I hate you!"
Andrews spun around, Billy tripping at his feet as the deranged man looked down at his horrified face, raising his arm over is opposite shoulder and bringing it back across the boys face, sending him spiraling outward across the ground, hitting his head against its hard surface.
"You son of a bitch…leave…the…kid alone…" Starsky puffed as he fought against his own pain and demons as he tried to remain defiant to the end.
"Your turn." Andrews commented as he walked towards the brunet, raising his hand with the gun in it and bringing it back across Starsky's temple, knocking him out cold, his body falling to the side.
A panic washed across the man's face as he heard the sirens come closer, he raced to Montag's corpse, kneeling down and talking his gun, wiping it down with his own shirt and the placing it in Montag's lifeless hand, wrapping the dead man's fingers around it tightly before rushing to Starsky's side, just as the police vehicles and unmarked cars rolled up, their headlights shining brightly at the crime scene before them. Andrews looked over his shoulder, his eyes squinting from the shining headlights.
"Hurry up, get an ambulance, we got officer's down!" He shouted at the men that were starting to exit their vehicles. "I'm Officer Raymond T. Andrews, Bay City PD…get me some help here!"
He heard the familiar voice of Captain Dobey echo off the trees, "You heard the man, get an ambulance up here pronto!" He shouted as he rushed to Officer Andrews side, putting his arm on the shoulder.
"You okay son?" Dobey asked Andrews with growing concern.
"Yes…yes…sir." I'm okay…I tried to stop him, but the suspect shot Detective Hutchinson after he knocked out Starsky here…I don't know if either of them are gonna make it Sir, I tried to help, I really did."
Other officers were rushing to Hutch's side, performing first aide, checking for vitals.
"You did good son, I'm proud of you." Dobey stated as he looked around at all the bodies lying about, as more officers begun to work on the young boy. "You shot and killed the suspect?"
"Yes sir…I had no choice, he was gonna kill Starsky." Andrews stuttered, playing the frightened officer role to the hilt.
"There's gonna be a commendation in this for you ya' know don't you, son?" Dobey stated as he squeezed the blonde's shoulder supportively.
To Be Continued…