I hope everyone had an excellent Christmas. Here's to the New Year!

Chapter 10

'Well Mr Lake. How was graduation day for our two subjects?' Mr Da Luca sat in his leather chair in his well appointed office, the smoke from his Cuban cigar curling upwards from his mouth. Lake stood respectfully in front of the desk, Dr Isaac at his side.

'Truthfully Sir, I'm not sure. The dark haired one seems more……compliant some way. He doesn't seem to be internalising his fears like the blond. There's something about him that's unreadable.'

'Explain.'

'Well, we gave him the dosier. Anyone reading that shit about his baby brother – we gave him the autopsy report showing young Christopher had been raped before he died – would want to kill the murderer and sure, Starsky was mad as hell. It took three of us to hold him down and sedate him, but I can't read him. When the anger had faded a little he seemed almost amenable. I don't know if it's a show, or if that's the way he usually is.'

Da Luca sat up a little taller in his chair. 'Will he do the job?'

'At this moment in time, I'm not sure. If I had another two weeks with them I could really make certain, but at the moment….'

'And what of the other one?'

Lake cleared his throat. 'He's dangerous. Maybe it's because he didn't have the head injury in the crash like Starsky did. The drug seems to have worked differently on him. I sent the girl in to test him and he went for the bate, but not as far as I would have liked. He stopped himself short of the act, but watching on the monitor I could see it in his body language. He's full of rage. I'm just disappointed we had to waste the girl before I could pump him up enough to kill her himself.'

'You mean he too is a failure?' Da Luca's eyes narrowed as he studied the two men in front of him. 'Mr Lake I'm not a patient man. I allowed you to be creative. It would have been far simpler to have finished them in the car crash, but I indulged you and you assured me you could pull this off.'

Lake looked at his shoes. 'I know Sir and for that I apologise. I misread them both although I should have studied their profiles more carefully. Starsky is ex-army and he spent some time in 'Nam. He was ill treated and in some men it hardens them to life in general. It's going to take more than mere words to push Starsky's buttons enough for him to hunt and kill Hutchinson.'

'And Hutchinson? Are you telling me we can't count on him either?'

'Hutchinson is a different kind of man. He's in tune with his feelings. He thinks a lot about his actions and those of others. He internalises what's going on around him. In a way that makes it easier for us. When I gave him the news about his supposed sister, something inside him broke. He's taken having his memories erased harder than Starsky, but he's still a thinking man and thinking men have scruples. I'd say he would certainly hunt his adversary, but whether he'd actually kill is another matter.'

Da Luca put down his cigar and scratched the side of his nose. 'I'm not accustomed to failure Mr Lake.'

'Neither am I Sir, but I am accustomed to getting my own way. I've discussed it with Dr Isaac and we think we have a plan.'

'A quick one I hope. Isla De Lucia de Catalina awaits our two subjects and you promised me some sport.'

Isaac coughed. 'I think I may be able to save the day. They leave the day after tomorrow, right?'

'Go on.'

'Ok well between now and then we use a little chemical encouragement to help things along.'

'You've tried that Isaac. The drug and the brainwashing have erased their memories, but it doesn't seem to have given us the desired effect.'

'No sir, you're right. But I have in mind a little chemical coercion of my own. Something that resides in us all. Something as natural and as fundamental as it gets, therefore it will be untraceable when the authorities recover their bodies.'

The man behind the desk leaned forward. 'Continue.'

'Between now and Thursday I give them shots. We'll tell the it's vitamins, minerals just to build them up. Testosterone is a wonderful thing and it'll make them so edgy, so pumped up and ready for a fight that they'd skin their own mothers alive.'

Da Luca grinned. 'Will it work?'

Isaac grinned back. 'Imagine that feeling when you want to do nothing more than punch the living daylights out of something? When your skin wants to crawl off your body? The feeling when you're about to waste someone and inherit their territory?'

'Uh huh.'

'Triple it. By the time I've given them their shots, their gonna feel like a bomb ready to explode. By the time they get to the island, believe me Sir, they'll kill anything that gets in their way.'

Da Luca grinned wolfishly. 'There are times when you redeem yourself Dr Isaac. Give them the shots and watch them closely but you have them on that island by Thursday evening or your contract will be um…..terminated.'

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The small boat rocked quietly in the evening waves about a half a mile from the shore of the small private island. The sun, which had shone down on the island all day was going down now leaving long shadows across the land and glinting like liquid fire across the tips of the waves. Above a lone gull cried plaintively to her mate and as the skipper watched, a shoal of flying fish spread their silver fins and skipped across the sea like a rain of mercury.

It was a perfect late summer evening and one that should have been enjoyed with a lover on the white sands of the beach, champagne in hand. Instead, the chocolate curled man sat below decks in the cramped cabin of the boat dressed in cut off jean shorts and a plain dark blue tee shirt as he surveyed the weapons on the small table in front of him.

There had been a seed change in Ethan Quade over the past 48 hours. The happy-go-lucky man who'd woken in the hospital a month ago had been replaced by a snarling, argumentative and very dangerous individual intent on revenge against the man who had caused the death of his younger brother.

Dr Isaac's injections of "vitamins" had certainly made a difference and the good doctor was quite pleased with the results – so pleased that when he had said a final goodbye to Starsky/Quade he'd given instructions for the minders who'd accompanied Quade to the boat to be careful of what they said or how they said it. Quade had been getting steadily more jumpy in the past 24 hours and now he looked and felt ready to rip the head off anyone who got in his way.

'Why no gun?' Quade asked as he took the two black leather knife sheaths and fitted one to each forearm. He slipped the two shiny new knives into the holders and practiced drawing them a couple of times. They felt cumbersome and far slower than a gun, but a weapon was a weapon was a weapon and beggars couldn't be choosers. Besides, the way Quade felt, he would prefer to be up close and personal when the light went out in Hunt's eyes. He wanted to feel the death; to make it mean something. Quade wanted to be close enough to Hunt to hear that least breath ask for mercy…..and life. In short, a gun wouldn't really cut it. A gun was too long range and Quade would feel nothing of the exhilaration of having Hunt die at his feet.

'We had trouble getting permission for you to come to the island. One of the stipulations was no guns' one of the orderlies said cautiously.

'And tell me again how the Doc managed to get me and Hunt here at the same time.'

The orderly shrugged his shoulders. 'He didn't really say. He just said he felt for you, that you'd been a great patient and that after the bum wrap you'd had, he wanted to give you a head start in getting your life back in order. Turns out that Hunt is a friend of the guy who owns this island and he's gonna be here on vacation.'

'How lucky. How many people live here?'

'None, so far as we know. The owner sometimes sails out here for a slice of the Robinson Crusoe lifestyle, but it's only small. There are no hotels.'

Quade shrugged. 'Fine by me. It makes taking Hunt down all the easier – no witnesses. Are we ready?'

The orderlies nodded. 'We're about half a mile out but we daren't get any closer otherwise you may be spotted.'

'Uh huh. Best to go in quietly. We wouldn't want to disturb the wildlife, would we?'

There was a nervous laugh from the two big men. 'Are you sure you wanna do this? I mean, wouldn't it be easier to just um….well, get on with life?'

Quade stood suddenly and grabbed one of the big men by the throat. He squeezed just hard enough that the breath whistled through the man's throat in a small hiss and the eyes started to glaze over. It felt good. It felt as though Quade could push his hand into the sweating chest in front of him and rip out the still beating heart. He wanted to feel the hot, salty blood flow over his fist; wanted nothing more than to have the man fall at his feet. He squeezed a little harder and smiled as the man wheezed into his face.

'Wanna run that by me again?' Quade grunted.

The man in his grip managed a weak shake of his head and reluctantly Quade let go so that the orderly sank to his knees on the floor of the cabin, hand at his throat as he massaged the blossoming bruises. Quade stood impassively, his face a blank canvas.

'Lead the way' he said to the other man who backed up slightly and let the feral brunet take the steps up onto the deck. Quade looked critically at the island. There was a small white beach but to reach it he would have to cross the breakers washing against a small reef. With critical eyes Quade plotted his approach.

The curly haired man stood on the gunwales of the boat and turned, perfectly balanced on sneakered feet. 'Tell the Doc thanks' he said curtly. He flipped a small salute, took a deep breath and launched himself from the side of the boat in a perfect shallow dive. Aboard the boat, the two men and the skipper let out a collective sigh of relief. The tension on the small craft had been almost palpable and now that their guest was gone they could finally relax. The skipper sat down in the small wheelhouse and turned in his chair to look at the other two men.

'Are we running a book on who will kill who?' he asked, picking his teeth.

'Hunt was as pumped as Quade when I last saw him. If anything he was worse. I wouldn't like to run odds on who'd win in a fight. I certainly wouldn't wanna be in the middle of them' the orderly with the bruised neck mumbled.

'Did they give Hunt a gun?'

'No. Knife. But a big one in a sheath down his spine. That's his only weapon but it has reach over Quade's smaller knives.'

'Quade can thrown 'em.'

'So can Hunt, and I wouldn't want to get on the pointed end of that mother. It's gonna be interesting. How long did Mr Lake say we had to wait?'

'He said to go around to the opposite side of the island. The other boat is dropping Hunt at the jetty then leaving. We're to anchor out in the bay and wait. If we don't see anything in two days, we're to go back in and finish it.'

'And you really want to go back onto that island with the two of them?'

Orderly #1 grinned and took a bundle from a locker in the small cabin. He unrolled the oiled cloth and dumped a Firestar semi-automatic onto the table, grinning. 'I think this has a bit more reach than a knife. We'll have fun with 'em once they've had fun with each other huh?'