Chapter 9

Bo looked around and spotted Hutch standing back from the group. The blond was still frantically trying to find a way to get them out of the situation and his eyes seemed unfocussed and far away.

'Yo, Cal. Take a hold huh? He has some good shit on him. Be a shame to waste it. Here'.

Reluctantly Hutch walked up behind his partner and took a hold of Starsky's arms, leaning his body into the brunet's. He could feel the uncertainty in Starsky's taut stance and the slight tremble in his muscles and as he held him steady, he heard Starsky mutter as Bo took a hold of his wrist and took off the beautiful gold Rolex. Bo looked at the timepiece, then threw it down on the bed before going to rip the gold chain from round the brunet's neck. Starsky said nothing, but Hutch could feel the lithe body tensed and waiting for what was surely to come. As Bo started issuing orders to Mel and Ramp he took his opportunity.

'Starsk, just go with it. Take a couple of blows then go limp huh? I can still figure out a way' he whispered into the sable curls. He felt Starsky tighten his arms in reply but them Bo was standing in front of him again, a baseball bat he'd gotten from somewhere held loosely in his hands. Behind him, Mel was holding a length of chain and Ramp had another bat. Hutch heard a murmured "shit" from his partner.

'Guys, Boss lady said to take it outside' Hutch said pretending to struggle with the body held in his arms. 'We should um…..'

'Yeah, she did, but it's cold out there an' so much more comfortable in here' Bo grinned, staring right at Starsky. The brunet stared back.

'What're ya waiting for?' the curly haired cop taunted. 'Ya wanna piece of me? Well come an' get it'. Hutch felt Starsky brace himself as Bo launched the attack, baseball bat lunging at his stomach. The point of the bat caught the brunet in the same place Mel had struck earlier and the blond allowed his partner to bend double, feeling the titanic struggle to regain his breath.

Straightening he took a swift look as Bo came at him again and as the big black man got within range, Starsky kicked out at Bo's knee, connecting with the kneecap and bending it backwards. The goon let out a howl of pain and rage and redoubled his efforts, coming at the restrained man again with his bat raised. He brought it crashing down, narrowly missing Starsky's arm and instead brushing his hip, his aim spoiled by anger and blind rage. He bellowed again and Mel caught the cop across his body with the wicked chain, the end stinging around Starsky's stomach and even biting into Hutch's side. Both men yelped and Hutch cursed Mel.

'Watch it! Watch who ya get with that think huh?'

Mel grinned. 'Hold him tighter. The more he squirms the more I miss!'

In Hutch's arms, Starsky's anger was all consuming. He'd never been one to back down from a fight and now, with his blood pounding in his ears he seemed almost to have forgotten the situation and that his partner's arms were around him. He kicked out again as Ramp came at his with the other bat and the battle yell turned into a blood curdling scream as Ramp brought the cylinder of wood down on the brunet's shoulder. Sickeningly, Hutch felt his partner's collarbone break and Starsky's left arm went dead immediately.

Hutch could feel the cop in his grasp getting weaker, the last telling blow having sapped a lot of his strength and still Bo, Mel and Ramp came at him. He buried his face in the curls and breathed his message into them.

'Starsk, for fucks sake don't do this. Just pretend huh? Please Starsk, just go with me'.

But the brunet wasn't finished. He faced off as once again Bo brought the bat down, this time on his left arm at the elbow and now he was jerking in Hutch's grip like a marionette, his breath coming in ragged sobs as he continued to yell and curse and kick out.

Behind him, Hutch was beside himself. Damn the brunet's hot temper. He couldn't get through to his partner, he knew that now. Starsky was lost in his own world of fighting and pain and despite the cruel blows and the terrible injuries he'd sustained; he was never one to blindly give up, even if Hutch told him to.

Unable to witness the terrible beating any longer, the blond decided to take the law into his own hands. He let go of the thrashing body, allowing the brunet to slip to the floor. Fishing in his waistband for his gun, he reversed it, holding onto the muzzle and as he gazed for a long second into the indigo eyes beneath him, he hardened his heart, swung the pistol back and whipped it across Starsky's right temple. The skin tore and started to bleed immediately, but the blow pole-axed the smaller man and with a final short sigh, the fight left the injured body and Starsky collapsed unconscious to the floor.

Hutch panted as he looked down at the damage meted out to his partner. Blood flowed from the wound he'd just inflicted on the brunet's temple and also from the corner of his mouth. A bruise had started to swell the right eye closed and another cut showed red and livid from the corner of his left eye down across his cheek towards his lip. Coupled with the broken collarbone he knew about and the possible broken arm, Hutch realised Starsky would need hospital treatment at the very least. God knows what damage had been done internally by the blows to his stomach. But how to get him the treatment he needed?

Bo stood by his side and aimed anther kick at the unconscious cop, the toe of his big boot landing with a dull, sickening thud on Starsky's right leg, echoing the crushing blow the brunet had landed on Bo's knee. There was a soft clicking sound and the leg lay at an odd angle, bending the wrong direction where it shouldn't have bent. His body rolled with the blow and Bo grinned, pulling out his gun. Carefully he aimed it at Starsky's head.

'That's for breakin' my fuckin' knee' the black man grunted as he pulled back the pin and cocked his gun.

Thinking a mile a minute, Hutch put up his hand and rested it on Bo's. 'Hey Bro. Boss lady said she didn't want no mess on the carpet. He's already bleedin'. Think how bad it'll be to clean up if ya shoot him here'.

Bo grinned. 'What d'ya got in mind Cal?

'Well, I say we take him to the beach. Finish it there. No cleanin', no mess' Hutch said carefully, hoping that by the time they got there, there would be sufficient people around to make shooting Starsky impossible.

'The beach huh? Ok, well, makes sense an' times getting' away from us. Let's go' he made to grab hold of the brunet's arm, but Hutch was faster and picked his partner up bodily in his arms, trying to ignore the low moan that escaped the bruised and cut lips despite the fact that he was unconscious. He walked out of the room, down the small corridor and out to the car where he fumbled with the back door. As he got his hand on the handle, Bo opened the trunk.

'What're ya doin'? Don't put him in there, too much blood on the seats. Here, dump him in here and hurry up'.

The blond staggered to the back of the trunk with his precious burden as Bo walked over to his pick up. As Hutch deposited Starsky's limp body into the trunk of his blue car, to his horror, indigo eyes flashed open registering confusion and pain.

'Hu'sh?' Starsky mumbled, his relatively uninjured right hand weakly reaching for his partners arm.

'Oh Jeez, not now. No, not now Starsk. Go back t'sleep huh?' Hutch mumbled.

'Utch…..help' Starsky mumbled, confused, dazed and in pain.

'No, please….just sleep' Hutch pleaded and with his heart in his mouth, he pushed the hand down and closed the trunk lid down, shutting out the pitiful sight. Starsky's pristine white suit was rumpled and covered with spills of blood showing bright ruby red against the pale linen. The blond swallowed down a sob and got into the front seat, turned on the ignition and drove off, his eyes scanning left and right. Maybe there'd be a black and white. If he could speed past it, maybe they'd get stopped. Or the road would be closed and they couldn't get to the beach. Or pigs might fly. He cursed loud and hard in his head. Why? Why did this have to happen? And how had they found out? 12 months of planning. 9 months of the operation. 4 months of his life wasted with these flakes and for what? To watch three no good low life goons beating the crap out of his partner and now he had the stark choice. Either blow their cover and put both their lives in danger, or grit his teeth and watch and hope he could still save his partner's life somehow. Because Hutch knew that there was no way on Gods green earth that he'd allow Starsky to die just for the sake of the job.

The drive to the beach took no more than 20 minutes. At 5:30 in the morning the roads were quiet and Mel sat at his side, yawning and scratching at his belly.

'He's sure one stupid sonofabitch' Mel said suddenly, recalling how Starsky had fought to the bitter end. 'I don't wanna look when Bo takes him out. Bo always likes to make it last' he said as though fondly reminiscing.

'What d'ya mean?'

'He likes the thorough approach, our Bo. Starts with a bullet through each kneecap, then the elbows, a couple through the hips and then he might finish it with a bullet to the brain. When they're screamin' too much for him to think'.

'Yeah, that's a man who enjoys his job', Hutch agreed vowing he'd kill the huge black man at the first opportunity. He felt physically sick as he thought about what the next few minutes had in store and knew there and then that while there was no escape, if he could get to Starsky first, at least he could maybe make it look like he'd shot him himself.

Hoping his partner was unconscious Hutch got out and went around to the trunk. If Starsky was dead to the world he could take him up to the dunes, lay him down and put a bullet into the sand next to his head, making it sound like he'd finished the job. So long as one of the other's didn't check on him, he could telephone in to the secret number they'd been given for the cops to come pick Starsky up, and they'd get out of this in almost one piece.

But opening the trunk again, the black pick up pulled up behind them, and Hutch once again saw his partner move and the eyes flickered open, unfocussed and confused. He bent into the trunk as though trying to pick the body up and managed to run his hand though the sweat soaked, blood matted curls.

'Starsk, please, just go with me on this. Whatever happens, just don't do nothing stupid huh? Ya hear me Starsk?'

The brunet's eyes came into sharper focus and he concentrated on the words. 'Utch….hurts' he mumbled.

'Did ya hear me Starsk?' Hutch hissed, aware that Bo was getting out of the truck.

'Hmm? Yeah…..nuthin stu……stupid'.

'Promise?'

Smashed lips broke into something like a painful grin and brought a spasm of coughing from the brunet. Hutch reluctantly withdrew his hand, severing the contact.

He took his gun from his waistband and checked it dramatically as the black goon came to stand by his car. He reached into the trunk and took a hold of Starsky by his broken left arm. The brunet screamed and tried to jerk away violently but Bo held tight and hauled him out of the trunk. Hutch set his face into a snarl and took a hold of his partner

'Hands off. This one's mine' he said over the top of Starsky's head at Bo.

The black man grinned and let go. 'Sure thing Bro. Want a helpin' hand?'

'No, I can handle it. Just stay here an' keep a lookout huh? All of ya. Won't be more'n a couple of minutes' Hutch grasped Starsky round his middle and started to pull him up to the dunes a little way off. The brunet had no energy left to walk and instead his feet dragged along the ground making twin furrows in the soft sand. As they got further away, the flaxen haired cop looked around, praying for an early morning jogger or dog walker to come and disturb them. But the beach was deserted and as he looked back he saw Bo coming towards him, obviously intent on missing none of the fun.

'I can't do this' he muttered. 'Please don't make me do this'. At his side he heard a pained snicker.

'Utch…….'

'Yeah buddy?'

'Do what…ya have to……trust ya'.

They crested a rise and Hutch let Starsky down gently until the brunet was on his knees, his damaged right leg out straight at the side of him. Starsky swayed, his concentration all focused on keeping upright. He looked at Hutch as the blond looked behind him at the fast approaching figure of Bo. The black man had his own gun in his hand and Hutch knew he had to act now.

Bo arrived at the side of Hutch and cocked his gun immediately.

'What're ya doin'? I thought I said he was mine' Hutch hissed at him.

'Too good an opportunity to miss' the black goon responded. 'Always did want to waste another cop. Look, his knees on display already' he aimed his gun at Starsky's outstretched right leg, going for his favorite target.

Hutch looked behind him, desperate to try to find an excuse for Bo not to do this.

'We don't have time for your fun' he muttered, 'there's a car comin'.

Bo looked around and grinned. 'It'll have to be the head then. Blowin' his brains out'll be cool too'.

Hutch raised his own gun. Maybe if he could shoot first, aiming for as little damage as possible, he might still save his partner's life. Maybe he could take Bo right there and then - but what of the others? Maybe he could shoot and miss? Maybe pigs would fly. But if he didn't make it look good enough, he knew damned well that Bo would take great delight in finishing it. Trying to think of a spot on the human body that he could shoot and amke look good while not killing Starsky, Hutch fingered his gun.

Desperately, the blond took a final look at the injured brunet. Starsky managed to stare back, their eyes locked in silent communication.

I can't do this Starsk.

Ya have to.

Please God don't make me.

The indigo eyes focused on the figure of the flake by Hutch's side, and then turned back to his blond partner

'Do it...now' he whispered, closing his eyes swiftly.

Hutch swallowed hard and calmed himself readying himself for the shot that could save Starsky's life, or end it. At his side Bo snickered and pulled back the pin on his own gun. Hutch aimed carefully beating Bo to the shot and with a final sickening lurch of his stomach fired once seeing the immediate ruby bloom on the front of Starsky's white jacket above his heart. The impact of the shot knocked the brunet violently backwards and as he hit the ground it was evident he was out completely.

As Bo looked back to the road, Hutch tried to get to his partner, the gray look on Starsky's face and the rapidly expanding blood stain telling him he'd seriously wounded him. But Bo was yelling at him now and he had no time. As he took a final look, Mel shouted to them that there was a car coming and they should get out of there. Hutch turned and fell to his knees, heaving the contents of his stomach onto the sand as Bo pulled him up. He wiped the back of his hand over his mouth, struggled to his feet and ran, Bo's hold on his shoulder propelling him forward and as he got to the car, his breath was coming in ragged sobs. The car drove past them the driver not even looking in their direction, but by that time it was too late to go back.

'Drive' Mel yelled at him as he pushed his foot onto the gas pedal.

Hutch drove away from his partner's body at speed, not knowing whether the bullet he'd used to try to save the brunet's life had in fact killed him. His mind in turmoil he drove automatically away from the dunes and back towards civilization.

And on the dunes, the brunet's blood seeped into the sand and the breeze playfully ruffled his hair as the first peach coloured strands of brightness tinged the morning sky.