CHAPTER 14

Starsky struggled to open his eyes as consciousness began to return. The first thing he noticed was that he was cold and uncomfortable. The next thing he noticed was that his hands appeared to be tied above his head. He groaned as he finally forced his eyes open and tried to focus on his surroundings. He appeared to be in some sort of underground room with a dirt floor and cement walls. There was a tiny window set high up on one wall faint sunlight filtering in through the grimy glass. A rickety set of steps along the far wall of the enclosure led up to the surface.

As his head cleared, Starsky realized that he was cold because his shirt had been removed leaving him dressed only in his slacks and underwear. Even his shoes and socks had been removed. His partially undressed state left him feeling vulnerable and uneasy. His hands were securely tied to a heavy beam above his head, the ropes tied so tightly that his fingers were already numb. His mouth was dry and he felt disoriented with a pounding headache and an upset stomach, all signs that he had been drugged.

Since it appeared to be daylight outside, he assumed that he had been out for at least eight hours or more. Starsky cursed himself for letting down his guard and allowing himself to be taken so easily. He had made a stupid rookie mistake that could cost him dearly. His only hope was that Hutch found him before he got too banged up or lost any important appendages that he really didn't want to lose.

Starsky became anxious and frustrated as time passed without anyone appearing in his prison to taunt him. As the dim light filtering through the dirty glass turned to night his anxiety increased as the darkness filled the room sharpening his senses and his discomfort. The pounding in his head had dulled to a mild throb but another physical need was rapidly making itself known. Somehow, Starsky doubted that his captors had his personal comfort at heart. Surrounded by the darkness and with nothing to distract him, Starsky eventually fell into an uneasy slumber.

An urgent need to empty his full bladder awoke him just as the sun was creeping over the horizon. He tried to think about something else but his body had other ideas. Starsky flushed with shame as his bladder released and the urine soaked through his jeans adding to his discomfort. With that indignity out of the way, Starsky's stomach growled with hunger and his parched throat longed for a drink of water.

He could no longer feel his hands or

the rope was cutting deeply into his wrists. The position was putting a terrible strain on his shoulders and upper back. And his legs were starting to cramp from standing in one place for so long. He knew if his legs gave out, his tied wrists would be forced to support the weight of his body which could easily dislocate one if not both of his shoulders.

The sound of the door opening at the top of the steps caught Starsky's attention. His heart began to pound as he listened to the footsteps as someone came down the stairs. Since the light in the room was so dim, he couldn't make out any features, only a silhouette of the man as he reached the bottom of the steps. He appeared to be of average height and average weight. When he spoke, there was nothing unusual about his voice. No Accent, no clipped or slurred words, nothing out of the ordinary.

"I think it's time we got better acquainted. Don't you….Detective Starsky."

Starsky caught his breath when the man called him by his given name. Obviously somehow his cover had been blown. Then Starsky remembered that his badge and police ID had been in his jacket pocket. His captor had probably found it.

"If you know that I'm a cop then you must know how much trouble you're in for kidnapping me." Starsky said in a braver voice than he felt. "That's a federal offense."

The man laugh, a cold unnerving laugh. "By the time anyone finds you it won't matter because you won't be in any condition to tell them anything."

"Is that why you killed the others? So they couldn't identify you?"

"Killing for the sake of killing has its own rush…almost as good as sex." The stranger said in a calm, almost soothing voice. "But, we're not there yet. We have plenty of time to play first."

Starsky shivered at the man's choice of words. The man's voice held no emotion, no affect. Someone without a conscience was the deadliest adversary of all. They killed without remorse or regret and had no compassion for someone's suffering, To them torturing their victims was the equivalent of foreplay.

"Why the escorts?" Starsky asked. He hoped to keep the man talking and find out as much as he could about his motives while he had the chance.

"Because they were convenient. It was an easy way to find the ones who fit my criteria. Like you."

"You had to have someone on the inside helping you find your victims," Starsky said

"What did they get out of it?"

"Money. What else?" The man laughed again, the same cold, unemotional laugh. "Everyone has a price. You just have to find out what it is and have enough money to meet it."

The man moved closer but Starsky still couldn't distinguish his individual features in the dim lighting. When the blow came it came without warning and Starsky didn't have time to brace himself as a fist plowed into his stomach, knocking the air out of his lungs. His chest burned with pain as he gasped for breath, trying to draw in enough oxygen to satisfy his tortured lungs.

Another blow to his jaw knocked his head sharply one side and Starsky immediately tasted blood in his mouth from where he had bit his tongue. An occasional grunt or hiss of air were the only sounds Starsky made as the beating continued relentlessly. Finally the man stopped, his own breathing heavy and loud from the exertion. Starsky let his head hang down, his chin touching his chest, as his dazed senses fought to remain conscious.

Suddenly, the man grabbed a handful of hair and jerked Starsky's head back. Leaning in closer, he hissed in a curl covered ear, "That's just the beginning. Before I'm done with you…you'll be begging me to kill you."

"Don't count on it, sucker," Starsky snapped belligerently. A vicious blow to his left temple followed, sending the brunet spiraling into the darkness.

Smiling smugly, the man turned and climbed back up the steps to the trapdoor and pushed it open emerging into a rundown barn. Pulling a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, he shook one loose and stuck it in his mouth, lighting it as he headed towards the small frame farmhouse.

As he opened the door, the young woman standing by the window looked at him solemnly. "Are you sure this is such a good idea?" she whined "He's a cop. The other cops are going to be looking for him."

"Let them look." The man said with a shrug of his shoulders. He glared at the young woman and added, "As long as you keep your mouth shut and do as you're told nobody will find out anything." His voice lowered dangerously. "If you don't…then you'll be next."

Cindy Lee sighed as she turned back to the window. She knew that she was in too deep to try and get out now. At first it had been exciting doing something so dangerous. But, then the games had turned to murders and she had grown scared of her partner. She knew that he wouldn't hesitate to kill her too if she got in his way. There was no way out. Not for her anyway. She frowned to herself. Unless she could make a deal with the cops. Maybe immunity for herself if she helped them find one of their own.