16
Carole buried her face in Traff's shoulder, unable to watch the brutal display below her. The two men she knew to be some of the kindest, most honest and gentle on the Bay City police department were publicly fighting each other with a ferocity that she'd never thought possible. As she hid in the prickly fabric of Traff's jacket she could still hear the gasps and grunts of pain coming from the arena accompanying the slaps and soft thuds as fists connected with softer tissue. The sounds sickened her and she wished she could stuff her fingers into her ears to blot out the sounds, but she knew she couldn't draw that sort of attention to herself, so instead she gritted her teeth and pretended to be nuzzling the soldier's ear.
The crowd had become quiet, subdued by the spectacle below them. They'd been used to spirited fighting as performed by some of the other men but these two were fighting as though their lives depended on it and it seemed as though this would be the ultimate - a fight to the death.
Carole could feel that Traff's body was tense as he watched the sickening show, waiting like a coiled spring for the moment when he could dash to his friends' aid, although he had to admit that in their current fighting fury, he was just a little afraid of how he would tackle them. His friends were lost in their blood lust and he suspected that anyone who came within range of those fists would be treated as fair game. He'd seen Chang leave the arena and watched now as the small Asian man walked back to his seat he saw the small nod, indicating that the black and whites had been called for.
His attention was drawn back to his friends in the pit. Hutch had straddled Starsky and punched his head time and again, but the brunette had managed to wriggle out from under the big blond and had managed to get the upper hand for a moment. Now, Traff's heart was in his mouth as he saw Hutch take the advantage and lock his strong forearm around his partner's neck, squeezing the life from his friend. He wanted to jump into the arena there and then, and he gripped the arms of his seat until his knuckles showed white to stop himself from pre-empting the strike and ruining the bust. The sight of the two men who loved each other like brothers now trying to kill each other brought a lump to the soldier's throat and he blinked hard to stop the tears from forming in his eyes. He knew then that whoever had done this to his two friends would suffer, and he'd be the one to make them suffer. He balled his hands into fists, the nails digging into the soft flesh of his palms and waited out the interminable time till back up arrived
When Starsky's body slid limply to the floor, the crowd had dissolved into complete silence, the quiet uncanny and alarming after the cheers and screams of the past few minutes. As the blond started to stand, he clutched at his chest, the agony etched in his sweat slick face and at that moment the doors around the room burst open, a dozen or more uniformed officers with weapons pointing at the crowd rushing into the room.
'Freeze, police' two of the officers yelled as the crowd looked around in alarm. Several of the women screamed and clutched at their partners and some of the men came immediately to their feet, but were quickly silenced and subdued by the battery of police issue Colts trained on them. As the uniformed patrolmen started to usher the crowd form the room, Traff, Marsh and the four other detectives leapt down into the arena.
Both Starsky and Hutch lay lifeless in the middle of the sandy floor, yards apart from each other and as Chang and Fernandez rushed towards Hutch, Traff and Marsh skidded to a halt by the side of the brunette. All the detectives had field first aid training and Traff, because he worked in bomb disposal and it was a pre-requisite had more than a working knowledge of medical matters. He reached calm fingers towards his curly haired friends' neck, searching for the pulse. He pushed hard into the flesh, but found nothing. He leaned over to feel for any last vestiges of breath against his cheek, but his friend had no signs of life.
Almost roughly he tugged the limp body around so that Starsky lay on his back and Traff could clearly see the grey/blue tinge to the skin around his mouth and eyes.
'Oh shit Starsk, don't do this. CURLY!'
'CPR' he said to Marsh as she knelt by his side. As Traff delivered his pre cordial strike just to the left of the bared sternum, Marsh stretched the neck back, tipping Starsky's head back to open his airways. She watched as Traff delivered 15 pumps with his cupped fisted hand and she bent down and blew two breaths into the open mouth. They repeated the process through four cycles and then stopped while Traff checked for signs of life.
The noises of the crowd around them and the shouts of the other detectives as they worked over the body of the blond detective receded into the background as the two worked over the lifeless body. Traff was beside himself as he worked calmly but determinedly over the furred chest. He was worried about the livid dark bruise across the brunette's throat and as March delivered two more breaths he put his ear against Starsky's chest to make sure that the airways were still open. He heard breath sounds and continued his exhausting work.
'C'mon buddy, work with me here' he grunted as he continued to massage the chest. 'Don't you give up on me, ya stubborn bastard'. He stopped again and he checked once more, his fingers probing deep into the stretched neck to discover any signs of life. He grunted.
'One more time' he told Marsh and set to another cycle of 15 massages to two breaths. Marsh was beside herself as she knelt at the curly haired detective's head. Blood and bruises marred his usually handsome face, large cuts bleeding on both cheek bones and around his left, swollen eye. His lips were also cut and she grimaced at the thought of giving the detective more pain as she breathed her life giving breath into his body.
Traff stopped for the fifth time and Marsh was about to bend to breathe again when there was a weak, almost inaudible cough. Quickly, Traff pushed his fingers into Starsky's neck again, and there, at the end of his finger tips he felt those first sweet beatings of his friend's heart, like the fluttering of a tiny bird caught in his hand. He straightened and pulled Marsh back.
'He's back. We got him back' he said tiredly. The adrenaline that had flowed through his veins was dissipating now, as he felt life returning to his injured friend. He sat back on his heels and wiped the sweat from his brow as he smiled elatedly. 'God, it takes a lot to kill him off. He's one tough son of a bitch, thank God. Help me turn him on his side'.
Marsh and Traff turned the body onto its side, crooking the leg up and cushioning the damaged face on Starsky's own arm, in the classic recovery position. As Marsh sat by his side, Traff ran his fingers gently through the damp curls and rested his hand on the bare shoulder, shuddering.
'I nearly lost you again pal' he murmured as he looked at the sleeping form. 'Too many times Curly. Too many times. I'm gonna be grey before my time with you pulling stunts like this. Just wake up for me and tell me what's going on huh?'
Chang and Fernandez were working over the blond body yards away. Hutch had all the signs of a cardiac arrest and they were treating him as such. His heart had stopped too, when they'd gotten to him and they'd taken the same approach as Traff and Marsh, administering CPR in the same way. Chang had yelled at the flaxen haired cop to keep breathing, but there had been no response and he and Fernandez had fought hard to bring Hutch back from the brink, delivering a precordial strike before commencing compressions. Once they'd seen the first signs of life flowing back into his body, they'd sat back on their heels, exhausted. Now, in an attempt to make things easier for him, they had him propped up against Fernandez's chest in a semi sitting position, his head lolling forwards onto his sweat slick chest as they all waited for the paramedics.
For all of the rescuers, the scene was too close to home. They had all, at some time in their police lives, had had to administer the life saving technique, but when it was one of their own, it had seemed harder and the possibility of failure was just too hard to contemplate. Now, with the two detectives at east breathing on their own own, they had chance to calm down their own rapidly beating hearts and take stock.
All around them, the noise and confusion continued and as Fernandez looked up, he saw the familiar bulk of their captain at the door, directing proceedings. Dobey kept glancing back at the arena and the men there, but was too much of a professional to stop the proceedings, knowing that his to star detectives were being cared for. But it didn't stop him worrying about them nonetheless.
The ambulances arrived and as the paramedics came into the room, he directed them to the fighting pit, telling them briefly hat he knew about the scenario.
'I think they've been drugged, although I don't know what with. They were de….' He couldn't bring himself to say the word and his voice faltered. 'they weren't breathing when we got to them, but it looks as though my men took care of that'.
He looked at the two fallen bodies. 'They're inseparable' he said simply. 'Keep 'em together if you can huh?'
The paramedics nodded and went to their patients as Dobey looked around him. The crowd had mostly been taken care of. Names and addresses of all those at the club had been taken and uniformed officers were directing people to attend the metro the next day to make statements, but there was something missing! They had the crowd, but where was the management? Dobey hadn't seen anyone who looked in the least like someone who owned the place and he suspected that they'd be making their getaway out back. He'd had officers paced at all the entrances he could find and so now, colt in hand, he pushed his way through the last of the crowd in the foyer and opened a heavy door into a long corridor.
With senses on high alert, he prowled down the carpeted space looking left and right at the open doors off. Finally he came to a door at the end of the corridor and pushed it open, finding two more uniformed officers reading the Miranda to a small rotund balding man and another man in a white coat. The doctor had his back to Dobey and as he turned, watching who was coming into the room, Dobey's breath caught in his throat. He blinked in surprise then let out a harsh gasp.
'Matwick!'