My thanks again to everyone reading this story!
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Chapter 10
"Have no fear for giving in
Have no fear for giving over
You better know that in the end
It's better to say too much
Then never to say what you need to say again" John Mayer
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Suko slapped the side of Starsky's face again, trying to get him to open his eyes, but without much success.
"Maybe you should just let him be. At least he's breathing okay now." Vinetti had been observing Suko's efforts for the last fifteen minutes. If anything, the man's ministrations were causing Starsky to remain knocked out rather than waking him.
"Oh yeah, and I suppose Rothman would be tickled pink to have him just do some heavy breathing on the phone with his partner?" Frustrated, Suko shoved Starsky back, forcing his head to smack against the wall. As Suko started to stand, he noticed a grimace on the cop's face.
"Hey!" Suko grabbed hold of a handful of curly hair and yanked hard. "Wake up!"
Starsky felt a prickly, hot sensation on his skull, snapping him out of a heavy stupor. He opened his eyes as far as he could, and tried to make sense of the reality around him. The awareness of pain and seeing Suko's ugly mug meant only one thing; he was still alive and in hell.
Suko picked up the cup of water and pressed it up against Starsky's mouth. "Here, drink this—it'll make you feel better."
Without a second thought, Starsky greedily took in the welcome liquid. For all he knew, Suko could have been drugging him, but he didn't care. The first few swallows felt like they were completely absorbed in his mouth, but finally the water made it down to the stomach, which hesitantly accepted the liquid. Starsky drew his head back from the cup. The cramping arising in his gut indicated it wasn't ready to handle much more.
Suko eyed Starsky's reaction with interest and then glanced at his watch. "So ya feeling okay?" he asked him, setting the cup down.
Starsky glared at Suko with a look that indicated the question was beyond stupid, then turned his head away.
Rising, Suko turned to Vinetti and said, "Guess we'd better get goin' if we want to be on time. You all set?"
"Yeah. You gonna need some help with him?"
"Well, he sure as hell don't look like he can waltz out of here on his own." Suko glanced down at Starsky. "C'mon, Prince Charming. Time to go for a ride."
The two men each grabbed hold of Starsky and led him out of the room and up the stairs, eventually making it outside to Suko's car. The dock area around them appeared deserted, even though it was the middle of the day, so no one witnessed the handcuffed cop being half-dragged, half-carried out of the warehouse and dumped head first into the back seat. Suko climbed behind the wheel as Vinetti got in beside him up front. As the car started up and pulled away, Starsky remained still and lying down.
The smell of fresh air and ocean water hit Starsky's senses as soon as he was brought outside of the warehouse. He had to squint to keep the bright daylight from hurting his eyes, but the warmth of the sun felt good on his skin during the few moments it took to reach Suko's car. Even the mild breeze felt like a gentle massage.
Starsky was sure he was being taken on a one way ride. He wasn't coming back to that God-forsaken basement, but it seemed unlikely they were taking him to a better place. Whatever Rothman had planned, Starsky was certain it was something that would insure he'd never see a penny of his pension. As the sedan drove to its new destination, Starsky nestled his battered body along the cushioned back seat, relishing the feel of the soft padding that was a world away from the basement's cement floor. Sadly, he knew simple pleasures like this were coming to an end.
Suko steered the sedan onto a side street in the industrial district and drove until he reached an alley running along the rear of a string of two-story commerce buildings. Halfway down the dead end lane, he pulled up alongside the loading dock of a small exporting business. As he and Vinetti got out of the car, they quickly scanned the area for any signs of people, but the only thing moving among the many parked vans and freight trucks were pieces of discarded rubbish carried along by the moderate wind. After retrieving Starsky from the back seat, the two men entered the building, their prisoner held tightly between them.
Once inside, they continued until reaching a storage area sectioned off by tall stacks of wooden shipping crates. A small office stood isolated nearby, two of its walls composed of glass windows stretching from the ceiling down to almost floor level. Starsky was set down on the floor outside, and left propped up against a crate. Vinetti went inside the office and dragged out two chairs for himself and Suko. Both sat down to smoke a cigarette and began the wait for Rothman's arrival.
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Hutch entered the squad room, and seeing Dobey's door open, walked towards his office. He stopped in the entrance, immediately getting the captain's attention.
Dobey looked up from reading a case report and recognized the worn expression on Hutch's face as a sign of imminent bad news. "Come on in and shut the door," Dobey said as he tossed the paperwork from his hands, "I take it Breanna couldn't identify Suko?"
"I don't know Captain. Maybe she could have, if she had been there."
Dobey nearly shot up from his chair. "What!? Well where the hell is she? And what happened to the officers watching the apartment?"
Letting go of a heavy sigh, Hutch said, "She took off. Somehow she convinced Huggy to come over with one of his waitresses. According to her, both Bree and Huggy left about an hour ago headed to Rothman's office."
"What is she thinking?" Dobey leaned forward again, resting on his elbows. "Did you go over there to see if they showed up?"
"Yeah. Had to have security open it up, but the place was empty." Hutch glanced at the clock on the wall which showed it was nearly two thirty. The optimism he had felt earlier was nearly gone. Not only did Rothman have Starsky, but in all likelihood he had Bree and Huggy now, too. The chances of finding any of them or locating the drug shipment seemed to be fading with each passing second.
"So what's your next move?" asked Dobey.
"Try and be one of the few people around here to stay out of Rothman's hands," Hutch said, then added dejectedly, "and wait for his damned phone call."
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Bree shifted around on the back seat of the Cadillac. Even though the leather cushioning was soft and supple, the handcuffs kept digging uncomfortably in her back. She glanced over at Rothman, but the man didn't seem to notice her movements, or maybe he simply didn't care. He was talking on the car phone, discussing plans regarding a shipment scheduled to arrive in on a freighter at any time. It wasn't hard to guess that the cargo probably included illegal merchandise of some kind.
A sinking feeling hit Bree. She wondered if the kidnapping had something to do with this delivery. Rothman was certainly ruthless enough to go to extreme measures to accomplish such a job. She remembered the other night, when David had mentioned the murder of Ronny Malcolm. If the bust David and Hutch had made involved drugs belonging to Rothman, and he wanted to retaliate, why hadn't he just killed David that night instead of kidnapping him? Obviously, there must be a reason, but Bree had enough dismal things to think about.
The Caddy turned into an alley and pulled up alongside another sedan. Rothman leaned forward and spoke to Jenkins, saying, "Give me about ten minutes, then bring her in." He gave Bree a cold look, and then got out of the car.
She watched as he climbed the stairs onto the loading dock and went into the building. Shrugging off the ominous glare, Bree stared out of the other window and examined the sedan parked next to them. She recognized it from the night of David's kidnapping and felt a surge of optimism, hoping there might be a chance he was alive and being held inside.
Upon entering, Rothman walked briskly towards the office near the far end of the warehouse. He approached his two employees and stopped, taking a long, hard look at Starsky. Suko and Vinetti got up and approached Rothman, both hosting apprehensive looks.
"He looks like shit. Are you sure he's even alive?" Rothman said, disgust filling his voice.
Vinetti shrugged his shoulders and stuck both hands in his front pant pockets. "He's a little sick, but doin' okay."
Rothman turned to Suko. "And what about you? Does he look okay to you?"
Suko quickly glanced at Vinetti, then nervously answered, "Sure. I mean, he's not ready to do the mambo, but he's alive."
Rothman took a few steps closer to Starsky, looking down at the hunched figure as if he were fresh road kill. Without turning back around, he asked, "Have you spoken to Eddie lately?"
Suko and Vinetti looked at one another. "I ain't talked to him, at least not lately," Suko answered, then turned to Vinetti. "Have you, Lou?"
"No, not since the other night," Vinetti replied, giving Suko a confused frown behind Rothman's back.
"I'm just wondering why he got ill so suddenly after you kidnapped the detective here." Rothman pivoted back around, his eyes demanding an answer.
"Don't really know, maybe it was something he ate," said Suko, not sure if Rothman was just fishing, or knew what had really happened to Lapentz. For now, Suko was willing to play dumb.
Rothman slowly walked past the two men, stopping at the edge of some stacked crates. He reached in his jacket, pulled out a handkerchief, and used it to briefly dab the tip of his nose. Deceptively calm, Rothman straightened his head and said, "When I give an order, I expect that order to be carried out—without any screw ups—especially from people who consider themselves professionals and get paid quite handsomely for what they do."
Suko shifted uncomfortably on his feet. He wasn't ready to divulge the truth, but he didn't like what Rothman was implying. "So you're sayin' we screwed up? How's that possible when curly top's plopped over there, doing a damn good impersonation of a door stop?"
Rothman spun around, his body tense and his composure barely held in check. "I'm not blind, Suko. I can see he's there, but he's not the issue." He stuffed the handkerchief back into his jacket and glared at the two men. "I don't tolerate sloppy work—ever! So let me tell you, when you grab his partner today there better not be any problems I have to deal with. Is that clear!?"
"Look, Mr. Rothman," Suko interjected, "I don't appreciate being told I do sloppy work. We grabbed his ass the other night, delivered him in one piece like you wanted, and now three days later, all of a sudden there's a problem?"
"So you don't see a problem, is that right, Suko?"
Vinetti cast Suko a weary eye. Rothman was clearly opening up a trap door, and Suko was running head first right into it.
As if on cue, Rothman turned towards the building's entrance, just as the sound of footsteps could be heard coming towards the group. As Jenkins and Bree came into view and stopped, absolute silence spilled over the room. Suko and Vinetti stood like two statues, looking more than a bit surprised.
Rothman stomped over to where Jenkins was standing. He seized Bree's arm, making her yelp as he yanked her away. As he got to Suko, Rothman shoved Bree around in front, holding her from behind by both shoulders.
"This, Suko—is what's called a fucking problem!!"
Vinetti couldn't see Suko's face, but he didn't have to. Undoubtedly, both of their expressions were a matching pair. He shied away from Rothman's hostile stare and shifted his gaze to Bree. Her eyes were bright and radiated fear, but mixed with that Vinetti caught a glimpse of a different personality then he had seen the other night in Starsky's apartment. He got the impression that behind that fear lay a mind set on a mission, but unfortunately for her, these weren't the best circumstances she could be in. Although he would never say it, Vinetti wasn't looking forward to killing this one.
Lost in his own thoughts since being pulled out of Suko's car, Starsky had barely paid attention to the conversation going on around him. He'd heard Rothman chewing out the hit men, and had fleetingly compared the tirade to one of Dobey's. Mostly though, he wondered about what was planned for him. It wasn't likely he was going to be hit anymore; he'd never survive another attack and it was obvious Rothman wanted him alive for one last reason—Hutch. Starsky was starting to wish he could just succumb to the sickness fermenting inside and spoil Rothman's plans for taking out his partner. If he could die soon, maybe it would save Hutch. But then he heard a short cry that woke him out of his dismal reflection.
Starsky looked over at the small group huddled nearby and noticed one shorter figure in the middle. He painfully arched back, trying to sit up so he could see around the stocky body of his groper. As Suko inadvertently shifted to the side, Starsky got his first good look at that center person—Bree!
As Jenkins ushered her into the building, Bree could hear Rothman's agitated voice and had a good idea of who was on the receiving end. When the conversation died and she came around the wall of shipping pallets, she instantly recognized the two kidnappers standing behind Rothman and felt apprehensive about being in their presence again, especially the one who had taken such a personal interest in her brother. She glanced over at his partner, and the sorrowful look in his face bothered her. When she turned her head, she caught a peek of someone huddle on the floor behind them, and struggled to suppress her impulse to jerk away from Rothman's grasp when she caught sight of the blue and white striped tennis shoes—Davey!
At that moment, Suko moved enough to where Bree could see David's face. For Bree, seeing him again was priceless, but it only took a moment to realize just how sick he appeared. Searching his body, she noticed dark red stains along the opened bottom of his shirt and what looked like more blood on wide bandages covering part of his stomach. Bree's heart sank as she started to imagine just how serious his injuries might be.
Starsky almost thought Bree wasn't real, but he was still alive enough to know what he was seeing was genuine. For an instant, he was ecstatic. Knowing Bree was okay injected new hope into their situation, but then reality crashed down on him. Rothman had kept her, like him, until this moment. Starsky knew he wasn't going to be alive much longer, and had no doubt Bree's chances weren't any better. Still, he was glad she was all right for now. There was always a slim chance something could happen and she could survive—being alive did, at least, offer that possibility. As Starsky stayed focused on Bree, relishing whatever time they had to be together, he became aware of the heated conversation going on between their captors.
"And that's all you can say? Things got screwed up!" Rothman was livid. He had seen more things go wrong in the last two weeks than in the last two years. And now the worst part was that his two best employees had failed to mention one tiny detail that could have put him in cuffs before he even knew what happened.
"Look, somehow the bitch got hold of a gun and shot Eddie. When we got there, she'd run off into the bushes. We would've gotten our heads blown off if we'd tried to find her," Suko said, laying out his last defense. He'd never seen Rothman this mad, and there was no telling what his boss would end up doing to him and Vinetti.
Rothman lowered his head and shook it slightly. Dealing with his incompetent employees would have to wait as there were more pressing things to attend to.
Nodding towards Starsky, Rothman gruffly said, "Get him over here and let's finish this."
Suko and Vinetti each grabbed a hold of one of Starsky's arms and lifted him up. While Jenkins guarded Bree, the others went inside the small office. As Starsky was carried past Bree, he gave her a small, fleeting smile, but it was impossible to hide the fact that he couldn't stand up on his own. His leg muscles didn't want to straighten out and if he got even close, the tension pulling on his stomach was too painful. Being toted around by the two thugs didn't feel much better, but keeping his pride intact was slowly losing importance.
Rothman sat down on top of the desk and scooted the phone over towards the front edge. He looked at Starsky and said, "Alright, detective. We're going to make a phone call to your partner. You get to tell him you're alive and that's it—understood?"
Starsky shot him an impish grin, then said, "And what if I refuse?" It was an empty threat, but since he couldn't physically fight anymore, Starsky had to use what he could.
Rothman glanced over his shoulder, silently motioning to Jenkins. The employee pulled a revolver out of his jacket and placed the barrel against Bree's temple. Rothman looked back at Starsky, letting his impatience show.
"Like I've said before, Sergeant, I don't like to play games." Rothman reached for the phone and started dialing. "You can certainly refuse if you wish, but any more insubordination from you will cost the woman her life."
Starsky dipped his head, feeling guilty for putting Bree in a situation he should have known would happen. It was hard being forced to do whatever Rothman wanted, but even harder to have Bree suffer the consequences of his futile resistance. There was no alternative but to concede—God, he hated no win situations.
Before dialing the last number, Rothman glanced up at Starsky, awaiting a response. With his stomach churning, Starsky gave him a resigned nod.
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Hutch had been staring mindlessly at the same page in Suko's criminal file for the last hour, his frustration growing by the minute. He was playing right into Rothman's hands, having to stay tied to his desk while, somewhere in town, illegal drugs were making their way to an unknown destination and his partner's life was at stake. Even though every beat cop had been advised to be extra vigilant, odds were against them stumbling on either the shipment or Starsky. On top of everything, Hutch hadn't heard a word from Huggy or Bree. When the phone next to him rang, Hutch unconsciously picked it up and was ready to answer before he realized it could be Starsky.
"Hutchinson," he said softly.
"This Detective Kenneth Hutchinson?" the male voice asked.
Hutch cautiously answered, "Yeah. Who's this?" He waved at Dobey through the open door in his office, catching the captain's attention. Dobey immediately picked up the extension on his phone.
"Let's not waste words, Sergeant. I know my time is limited. There's someone here who wants to say hello."
Hutch pressed the receiver up against his ear, straining to hear the next voice.
"…Hutch…"
The voice was barely above a whisper, but Hutch could never mistake it.
"Starsk? Are you okay?" Hutch knew it was stupid to ask, but he had to know.
After a long pause and what sounded like some labored breaths, Starsky said, "Hey—just don't forget to lock the car."
Hutch heard some fumbling in the background, and then another male voice came on the line. "Okay, cop, you listen good. There's a payphone on the corner of Baker and Harding. If I were you, I'd be there to answer it in fifteen minutes. And make sure no one else comes along, or it's gonna cost you dearly." The line went dead.
Dobey hung up his phone and walked out into the squad room. Hutch was still holding on to the receiver, his eyes closed tightly. "What'd Starsky mean by that last comment?" Dobey asked.
Hutch opened his eyes and dropped the receiver back on the phone base. He got up from the chair and grabbed his jacket from off the desk. Showing no emotion, Hutch said, "It means he doesn't think he…It means he's in a bad situation, Captain."
As Hutch started for the door, Dobey shouted his name. Hutch stopped, but before he could tell Dobey his mind was made up, the captain said, "I don't agree with what you're doing, and if I thought it would do any good I'd order you not to go, but I know that wouldn't stop you. Just watch your back—it's bad enough they've got one good detective—"
Hutch acknowledged Dobey with a slight smile. "I'll keep that in mind," he said, then hurried out into the hall.
Suko slammed the phone down then back-handed Starsky across his face.
"Son of a bitch! What kind of bullshit are you tryin' to pull?" Suko said, drawing back his hand to deliver another blow.
"Suko!" Rothman had to restrain himself from doing the same thing to his employee. "You've got somewhere you need to be right now. Take him and the girl and lock them up in the back room."
Suko gave his boss a resigned look and straightened his jacket. He grabbed Starsky and helped Vinetti move him out of the office while Jenkins followed behind them with Bree. The group went to another part of the warehouse where the two siblings were tossed roughly on the floor inside a small storage room. As soon as they were left alone, Bree began to scramble over on her knees towards her brother. Starsky painfully worked himself into a seated position, and scooted backwards until he could lean back against a wall. Almost completely out of breath from the effort, he turned to Bree and felt comforted for the first time in days as she laid her head against his.
"Oh God, Davey," Bree said, as she got her first close look at the blood stains on his shirt and bandages. "What'd they do to you?" she whispered. Bree wished she could free her hands to take a closer look at his injuries, or even better, wrap her arms around him.
"It's not that bad," he lied, then paused until he could catch his breath. "Some guy just didn't like my hair, that's all." He tried to show a smile, but a sharp spasm in his gut wiped away the effort.
"Davey," Bree said, drawing his name out, "you don't have to pretend with me, especially not now." She watched as the expression on his face changed, but the indigo eyes still revealed a depth of unimaginable pain. "Hutch is trying to find you, you know. And your captain has got the whole department out looking, too."
Starsky suddenly pulled away, pressing against the wall behind him. "What? How do you know that, Bree?" he said hoarsely. When she looked away and didn't answer, Starsky stared forlornly up at the ceiling. "Tell me you didn't. Please…" he quietly said, hoping he was mistaken in what he was thinking.
Bree slowly looked back at him. When their eyes met, she said, "I got away that night. They were going to kill me, but I got away. Hutch came for me and I told him what happened." The look on David's face made Bree uncomfortable, but she continued. "Everybody's really concerned about you—even Huggy's been helping out."
"If you got away—" Starsky said, refusing to let her sidestep the issue, "then how'd Rothman get a hold of you again?"
Bree hesitated for a moment, then muttered, "Because I came to him, looking for you."
"Are you serious!?" Starsky's stomach tightened, but he ignored the pain. "What the hell were you thinking, Bree? That you could just waltz right up to Rothman and ask him to let me go?"
"Well, actually, that's kinda what I did."
Starsky looked at her, utterly stunned. There had to be some kind of explanation, because his sister couldn't have gone completely insane since he'd last seen her. "Bree…these guys aren't playing around…" Suddenly, a searing jab tore through his side making Starsky arch backwards as he let out an agonizing yelp.
Startled, Bree straightened up, feeling helpless and unsure of what to do. "Davey! What is it? What's wrong?"
It was the last straw. All of the tension and hurt from the last three days crashed down on him, and along with the pain now shooting through his body, combined to overload his last reserves of strength. "Oh God, fuck this!" Tears came pouring out, accompanied by repressed sobs that only intensified the aching. His mind became flooded with frustration, and with no one else to lash out against, Starsky unleashed his anger on Bree.
"Don't you get this!? Rothman grabbed me to get even for busting up his drug shipment. I'm only alive right now because he wants Hutch too." Starsky's voice was tight; his muscles tensing, trying to ride out another spasm. "Damn it! I can't take this shit anymore!" He took in a shaky gasp, and let the anguish finally reach a climax.
"Since that night, I didn't know if you were alive or not,' he continued. "And it tore me up, knowing I was responsible…I've tried to fight these bastards, because I felt I owed that to you…but I just can't anymore." As his body shuddered and then relaxed for a brief moment, Starsky let out a weak sigh. "I'm not making it out of here, Bree…but you had a choice, dammit…"
Bree settled back on her legs and watched as David's entire body deflated. For the first time, she felt as though she was making a terrible mistake. David had certainly been struggling to hang on, but now, with both of them in the same hopeless position, life seemed to have instantly drained from him. Shame washed over her as Bree realized she was responsible for how he was feeling.
"Oh Davey, I'm sorry," Bree said, as she rested her forehead on his shoulder. "I only did this because I couldn't be somewhere safe knowing you weren't. I hate it that you're in pain—I'd do anything to make it go away if I could. Please, don't be mad at me."
Starsky leaned his head against hers. "I'm not mad at you…but I can't feel better knowing you're just throwing your life away." He paused for a moment, trying to catch his breath. "I guess I'm sorry, too…that you got caught up in this. You didn't have a choice in that…"
Bree saw David cringe and heard him release a soft moan. He looked so sick and Bree hated to think how long he'd been suffering like this. She pressed her head more firmly into his and softly said, "Hang on, Davey…just a little longer."
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Hutch maneuvered through the last bit of heavy traffic before entering the less congested industrial district. During the drive over he had thought about what Starsky had said on the phone. It was one of just a couple of phrases they had invented some time ago during a very long and uneventful stakeout. While tossing back and forth ideas on how each would react in different scenarios, the two had thought of code words to use that only they would understand in a tight situation. Starsky's remark about "locking the car" symbolically meant the Torino, his one cherished material possession. In essence, he was saying he wasn't going to make it, because circumstances were beyond his control, and Hutch shouldn't put his life at risk.
But here he was, doing exactly what they had promised each other not to do. To Hutch, that didn't matter now. Since that stakeout, they had gone through a lot of bad situations together, each always watching the other's back. If trying to save Starsky's life cost Hutch his, that was his choice and he wouldn't have it any other way. Rothman would likely win the battle, maybe even the war, but Hutch would have spared himself a lifetime of regretting the fact that he'd left his partner to die. There was no question in his mind he was doing the right thing.
Hutch pulled up to the phone booth and parked along the curb. As he got out of the LTD, the telephone started to ring. He glanced around the immediate area, but other than some light traffic and a few pedestrians about a block away, there was nothing that looked suspicious. Hutch stepped into the booth and picked up the phone.
"Yeah," Hutch said tersely.
"You're three minutes late. If that's how you're gonna follow directions, maybe I need to end this call right now."
Although he wanted to let the voice know what he thought about that, Hutch bit his lip and played along.
"Sorry. I had to change the oil and a flat on the way over here."
"Oh, you're a cute one…just like your partner. I'm only gonna say this once, so pay attention. Get back in your car and go north five blocks. Turn right on Harding and keep going straight until you reach the dead end. Turn left and park in the lot off to your right. Get out of your car and walk towards the blue garage doors. And just one last thing, pig—once you leave that car, you'd better be alone—no weapons, no wires—or you and your partner die. You've got five minutes." The caller hung up.
Hutch left the booth and got back in the LTD. After arriving at the lot, he found the building with the blue doors and parked a short distance away. He pulled his Colt revolver from his holster and stuck the gun under the front seat. Taking one last moment to prepare himself for whatever lay ahead, he cautiously stepped out and started walking towards the building.
"Stop right there!"
The man's voice seemed to come from nowhere. Hutch froze, unsure if he should even look around.
"Take your jacket off—and your shirt."
Hutch slowly complied, taking off the jacket, followed by his empty holster and lastly the shirt.
"Very good. Now go in the side door to your left."
Keeping hold of his clothing, Hutch walked over and opened the door, stepping into the dimly lit interior. He found himself in a large room filled with tall stacks of boxes and sectioned off by shelves that reached nearly to the ceiling. Walking a few more feet, another voice called out.
"That's far enough. Get rid of the holster and place your clothing on top of the table."
Hutch tossed his holster off to the side and placed the clothing on the table. A large man stepped out from behind a wall of shelving about ten feet in front of him, armed with a hand gun.
"Step over to that wall," the man said, pointing the gun to where he wanted Hutch to go, "and, what do you guys call it? 'Assume the position?'"
Reluctantly, Hutch obeyed and placed his body, spread-eagled, up against the wall. While Vinetti kept a watch on the cop, Suko arrived from outside and searched through Hutch's jacket and shirt. When he was done, he nodded to Vinetti, who holstered his gun and stepped in behind Hutch. After patting him down, Vinetti took the clothing from Suko and handed the items to Hutch.
"Here, put these on then place your hands behind your back."
Hutch turned around and examined the two men closely. They both looked like ordinary scum, just dressed up in expensive three-piece suits. After he finished dressing, Hutch turned and faced Suko, allowing Vinetti to handcuff him.
"Where's my partner?" Hutch said, coolly staring at the hit man.
"When I want to hear you say anything—I'll ask." Suko answered. He then reached in his jacket and pulled out a small cloth bundle, and after folding it up, tied it around Hutch's head as a blindfold.
Without another word, he was escorted through the warehouse to a parked car and forced into the back seat. Vinetti slipped in behind him and pushed Hutch all the way down on the seat. After leaving the warehouse the sedan traveled for several minutes, constantly changing directions, until it entered into another building and parked.
Suko pulled Hutch from the car and took off the blindfold. Checking out the new location, Hutch noticed it resembled the first, both apparently being used as shipping warehouses. He was led to an area surrounded by tall stacks of crates and shelves full of cardboard boxes, along with a small office set off to one corner. Hutch looked through the large windows, not surprised at who he saw waiting inside.
"Well, Detective Hutchinson," Rothman said as he strolled out of the office, "so I finally meet the other half of this dynamic twosome. You know, for such highly qualified police officers, it didn't seem to take much effort to get you off the street." Rothman began examining Hutch as if he was a prized thoroughbred up for auction.
"I asked your goons, and now I'm asking you—where's my partner?"
"My…you certainly don't like to beat around the bush, do you?" Rothman admired the brazenness of the man. "All in good time, sergeant—but then, maybe time isn't something your partner has plenty of now, does he?"
"What do you want, Rothman?" Hutch wasn't going to let the man toy with his emotions.
"Yes, you really do get straight to the point. Alright detective, I'll tell you what I want." Rothman moved closer. "You and your hippy partner turning into sludge at the bottom of the bay!"
"Then why don't you just kill us and get it over with!?"
Rothman's mouth twisted into an evil smile. "Because even garbage like you can serve a purpose."
"And what purpose would that be?" Hutch asked.
"Oh, I could see occasions developing where both of us could benefit if you chose not to notice certain things, from time to time."
"So you'd expect me to look the other way while you run drugs in right under my nose. And just how would I benefit from that arrangement?" Hutch despised Rothman's mind game, but he had no alternative but to play along, at least until he could find out where Starsky was.
"Despite what I personally think of you, Detective, I suspect that, given a choice, you could select your own kind of, shall we say, reimbursement?"
"What 'choices' are you talking about?" Hutch spat out.
Rothman nodded at Suko who turned and walked back towards the rear of the building. In just a few moments, he returned with Jenkins, the two of them dragging a barely conscious, but familiar-looking curly-haired man between them.
Starsky!
Hutch tried to go over to his partner, but Vinetti quickly stepped in front of him and grabbed his arm. As Suko and Jenkins dropped Starsky to his knees, Hutch felt totally sickened at the condition of his partner. He looked like he was only hanging onto life by a thread, and a very thin one at that.
"I'd call this a choice." Rothman said, motioning towards Starsky. "His life in exchange for your cooperation. That would be one choice you might consider beneficial, although I honestly can't see how someone like him would be worth much. Then again, your other choice might be not to cooperate, in which case he dies right now."
Rothman looked at Suko, who grabbed a hold of Starsky's hair and pulled his head up. He then unholstered his handgun from underneath his jacket and pressed the barrel tip into the back of Starsky's head.
"Wait!" Hutch yelled, surprised by the sudden move. "So—, so I decide to go along with you. You think I'm gonna believe you'll just take my word and let us walk out of here?"
"Are you saying your word is no good then?"
"No…of course not." Hutch looked back at Starsky. His eyes were dulled over, but Hutch could still sense the presence of absolute trust behind Starsky's emotionless exterior.
Rothman noticed the subtle interaction going on between the two men. He had been told they were close, possibly even able to read each other's minds, but seeing it in person was intriguing. "Tell me, Sergeant—if you were offered the chance to leave right now, by yourself, would you do it?"
"Without him?" Hutch said, nodding to Starsky. "No way."
"Then you're a complete fool!" yelled Rothman. "You'd actually risk your life for someone who's already dying—for what? So you can be remembered as a hero?"
"Let me explain something, Rothman, so that even you might understand it. That man is my partner. He'd risk his life for me under any circumstance. And I wouldn't hesitate to do the same thing for him."
"Well, that is very touching. But how far does your gallantry extend?" As a puzzled look appeared on Hutch's face, Rothman continued, saying, "About those choices I mentioned—you've clearly indicated you'd have no problem sacrificing your life for his. But how easily could you decide someone else's fate?"
Jenkins took his cue and stepped away from the group. Hutch watched him leave, then shifted his gaze down to Starsky. The detached look on his partner's face was disturbing. It wasn't like Starsky to be so resigned—even with a gun held to his head he would instinctively be on alert, his eyes glued to Hutch, waiting for a signal that would spring him into action. The Starsky that sat kneeling on the floor right now was nowhere near that person.
The sound of footsteps drew Hutch's attention. Jenkins was returning, but not by himself. When Hutch saw who was with him, the diabolical nature of Rothman's plan suddenly emerged.
As Rothman studied Hutch's reaction, he was pleased to see the cop recognize the girl.
"I take it you know this woman?" Rothman asked.
Hutch smiled warmly at Bree, trying to project some comfort. She seemed okay, but the expression on her face almost mirrored her brother's. "Yeah," Hutch said.
"Good, so we can skip the introductions." Rothman slowly walked over towards Bree and Starsky. He made a quick hand gesture to Suko, who withdrew his weapon from Starsky's head. He turned to Hutch and said, "You have a decision to make, sergeant. Which one dies, and which one gets to live."
"What!?" Hutch shook his head in disbelief. "Are you insane!?"
"I think you understand perfectly. After all, you are a detective." Rothman approached Hutch and stood right in front of him. "You get to decide both of their fates—right now."
"And what if I refuse to play God?"
Rothman cracked a smile. "Then I stick with my original plan and take care of you and your partner permanently. Unfortunately, in that case, the girl gets to join you."
His head spinning in a panic, Hutch searched for a way out of the impossible situation. Could Rothman really intend for at least one of them to walk out of there alive? Before he could say anything, a quiet voice spoke out, breaking the tension in the room.
"This wouldn't be the first time you were responsible for causing a woman's death, Benny, so why would you call it 'unfortunate?'"
Rothman spun around, as did Suko and Vinetti, all trying to locate the speaker. Rothman took a few tentative steps forward, then focused hard on Bree.
"What did you just call me?" Rothman growled out.
"Have you forgotten her already? You claimed you loved her, until she got pregnant that is. She was so young, and she trusted you. You convinced her to have an abortion, but you thought taking her to some backstreet quack would solve the problem, didn't you?"
Rothman moved closer, his face tense and starting to redden. "What are you talking about?" he said, madder than before.
"After you brought her back home, you just said goodbye and took off. She was in terrible pain, but you didn't care. She lay in bed all night long, suffering and bleeding, afraid to tell her family what happened. But they learned, along with everyone else, when she was found dead the next morning."
Everyone was looking at Rothman, waiting for a response. Feeling the impact of their stares, he said, "That's a real nice story, sister. Did you just make that up—to use as some last minute ploy—hoping it might save your life?"
"Every bit of it is true, and you know it. You actually hated your father for kicking you out of the house. At least he had the integrity to feel disgusted by the whole thing, but you never did."
"That's enough!" Rothman charged forward and grabbed Bree by the throat.
"Hold it right there!" Vinetti yelled, as he reached out to break Rothman's stranglehold. Turning to Bree, he asked, "What was her name, the girl you're talking about? Who was she?"
Bree glanced up at Vinetti, looking as if she had just come out of a trance. "Gabriella—" she answered shakily, "Gabriella Rosa Vinetti."
TBC