The Buddy System
By TLR
Plot: Huggy gives Starsky and Hutch a tip about an underwater shipment of cocaine.
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
The Southern California coastline stretched infinitely, a juxtaposition of rugged cliffs and serene beaches. Seagulls soared overhead, their cries mixing with the crash of waves.
Starsky tapped his fingers rhythmically on the Torino's steering wheel as they listened to Beach Boys music. "You remember the time we had to find and rescue the rare exotic fish someone stole from that rich baseball star?"
"Oh, the Asian Arowana, sure."
"Huggy's tip better be solid, Hutch. I'm not up for a wild goose chase."
"It's not like we haven't gone on them before."
"Well, at least we can get some Self-Contained Underwater Breathing Apparatus fun out of it."
Hutch glanced down at the file on his lap. Huggy had heard from a reliable source that a recently and perhaps purposely sunken boat off the coast was hiding barrels of illicit cocaine. "If this pans out, it's big, partner."
"Dobey says he'll treat us to dinner after."
::
As they arrived at the weathered and seldom-used dive site near the Port of Bay City, a rustic rented boat bobbed gently, waiting for them. A rugged, sun-tanned man in his fifties and wearing a sea captain's hat, greeted them with an outstretched hand-"Captain Mike Hollings," he said as he looked from Starsky to Hutch. "Didn't bring any fishing gear?"
Starsky lifted the underwater camera slung around his neck. "Photojournalists. I take the pictures, he writes it up."
"Oh, like for a magazine or something."
Hutch nodded. "Something like that. He's Moby. I'm Jacques."
"Got everything you need right here." He pointed towards the diving gear stacked neatly at one end of the boat.
"Thanks," Hutch said.
"I'll be over in the office there if you need anything. Happy diving."
Starsky and Hutch nodded, then began to don their gear.
The wet suits felt a little restrictive as they squeezed into them, the scuba tanks heavy on their backs, the weight belts bulky around their waists. They tested their regulators, the hiss of oxygen a reminder to be careful underwater.
The vast ocean lay before them, the sun casting shimmering reflections on its surface. With a deep breath and a nod to each other, the pair took the plunge.
The underwater spectacle was mesmerizing. Starsky took pictures of the brightly colored sea life that stood out against the deep blue, the fish of various sizes and colors that swam past, curious about the two new visitors. The light from the surface dimmed as they went deeper, the weightlessness and silence enveloping them.
Starsky gestured excitedly at a school of tiny fish. Hutch nodded, but pointed downward, signaling him to stay on track.
They began their descent toward the seabed, the world above slowly fading away.
::
The deeper they ventured, the more the underwater world morphed from a vibrant paradise to an eerie realm. The sun's rays struggled to pierce this depth, casting a dim, blue light over everything. The remnants of wrecked vessels from ages past littered the ocean floor, silent witnesses to countless tales of the sea.
Starsky's hand instinctively went to the dive light on his belt, illuminating the way as they approached a bright-looking boat wedged between two large boulders.
Hutch made his way towards the hull, his dive light revealing a broken section. He signed for Starsky to follow, and together they ventured inside. As they navigated the interior of the boat, Hutch's light swept over a shadowed corner, catching the unmistakable glint of five metal barrels, lined up neatly, waiting for recovery by the dealers.
Starsky nodded as he approached one of the barrels, taking pictures that would be used as evidence should the barrels be moved by a criminal element before the authorities could get to it. He cautiously pried the lid open, revealing clear waterproof bags of the white powder, and took pictures of these too.
Hutch gestured upwards, signaling that it was time to ascend and report to Captain Dobey, who was heading a joint investigation with the Bay City Port Police. But as they began their return to the surface, Starsky felt an unexpected resistance on his oxygen line. Confused, he checked his air gauge. The needle was rapidly declining, much faster than it should have.
Panic welled up in his chest. He tried to signal Hutch but found his partner checking his own gauge. Starsky tugged on Hutch's arm, pointing frantically at his gauge. The gravity of the situation hit them both at once. Starsky's air supply was compromised. Accidental or intentional wasn't clear. What was clear was that they were in an emergency.
They were in dangerous waters now, in more ways than one.
::
The silence of the ocean gave way to the roaring anxiety in Starsky's mind. He felt every second ticking by, acutely aware of the decreasing oxygen levels. Hutch, attempting to maintain his composure, signaled Starsky to stay calm. He swam closer, offering his own regulator, urging his partner to take a breath.
Starsky hesitated, his eyes darting between the regulator and Hutch's face. Taking it would mean they'd both be using Hutch's air supply, reducing their collective time underwater. But as his lungs began to burn, the need for oxygen overpowered any rational thought.
They shared a few deep breaths, communicating wordlessly. An understanding passed between them. If they were to make it out, they had to ascend slowly to avoid decompression sickness, a potentially lethal condition caused by ascending too quickly. And if they didn't make it out, it was because they were sharing air so that the other could live. They realized they could very well die together.
The reality of their situation was palpable as they shed their weight belts and began their joint ascent, each holding onto the other. The blue of the ocean seemed darker now, more foreboding. Every breath they took felt like borrowed time.
As they rose closer and closer to the light, their synchronized swimming was interrupted by an ominous shadow passing overhead, momentarily blocking the light. Hutch recognized the shape of a big shark that was curious and possibly attracted by their movement.
Starsky's eyes, already wide with fear, grew even larger at the sight. Hutch signaled him to stay still, hoping the creature would lose interest and move on. But the ocean had its own plans.
In a sudden, terrifying move, the shark, possibly mistaking Starsky's flippers for prey, slammed into him. The blunt force of the impact sent Starsky falling away unconscious as if weightless, his regulator slipping from his mouth.
Hutch himself darted like a sailfish towards him, taking one last huge breath as he put the regulator into his partner's mouth. The urgency of the situation had reached a fever pitch in Hutch's heart. Every second counted.
With Starsky limp and unresponsive, Hutch began to ascend as fast and as safely as he could, balancing the desperate need for speed against the dangers of rising too quickly. Safety was above them, but with so many variables against them, reaching it was not guaranteed.
The vast expanse of the ocean seemed both confining and endless as Hutch navigated upward, taking Starsky with him, praying to break the water's surface in time.
::
The shimmering surface of the water seemed miles up, a distant promise of life. Hutch's limbs ached from exertion, his chest burned from holding his breath, but his partner's unconscious form pushed him harder than any physical pain he himself had. The ocean's depths, once a realm of wonder and mystery, had turned into a suffocating prison.
Each kick towards the surface seemed slower, heavier. His lungs screamed for air, but every rational cell in his brain warned against ascending too quickly. Time, the one thing they desperately needed, was running out.
Hutch's mind seemed to explode and diminish at the same time, but one thing was certain. He would give all of his air, every last breath, if it meant saving Starsky's life.
He called on his practiced self-soothing techniques to buy precious seconds.
Finally, they broke the surface, Hutch gulping and gasping for air, rolling Starsky onto his back and taking the mask and regulator off his partner before swimming backward toward their boat.
"It's okay, Starsk. We'll make it. Keep breathing."
But he wasn't breathing, and his skin was beginning to turn color.
Hutch climbed into the boat as quickly as he could, then dragged Starsky inside it, put him on his back, and performed artificial respirations and CPR, willing life back into him.
Mike Hollings jumped into his own boat and sped toward theirs.
Hutch's hands trembled from exertion and fear. Time was a blurry, intangible concept. Was it seconds? Minutes? He didn't know. All that mattered was the still form beneath his hands.
And then came Starsky's gurgling cough, water mixed with salt. His chest heaved, gasping for the sweet relief of air. Eyes fluttering open, they held a mix of confusion and recognition.
"Hutch?"
Hutch, overcome with relief, collapsed next to him, his own breaths ragged. "Starsk," he rasped, voice thick with emotion as he grabbed for his partner's arm. "We did it. We're okay."
Mike pulled up alongside them in his boat. "Everything all right?"
"Sure," Starsky moaned as he patted the camera still hung around his neck, but was now a little askance. "Got pictures, didn't we, Jacques?"
"Yeah," Hutch panted. "We did, Moby."
They said nothing more about the dive, trying to avoid giving away to Captain Mike that they were undercover and Starsky's dive tank could have been sabotaged, possibly by Mike himself. The friendly looking seadog could very well be a part of the bigger operation, and that was one reason the Bay City Port Police wanted Captain Dobey to use undercover detectives that were not recognizable to Mike. The sea captain was on a first-name basis with the Port authorities.
The boat gently rocked, the rhythmic lapping of waves against its hull a welcoming backdrop to their shared moment of relief and reflection.
"Hey," Mike said. "I got some bourbon back in the office."
"We'll take it," Hutch said looking over at him. "And a phone."
::
When they reached shore, Mike went on to his office.
The detectives peeled off their wetsuits in favor of the street clothes they'd worn, then looked out at the expanse of water that had almost swallowed them, the very element that had nearly claimed their lives.
"You were my lifeline, Hutch."
Hutch smiled and hooked an arm around his neck. "And you're mine, meatball. Now let's go get that drink and call Dobey."
::
Memorial Hospital.
After turning Starsky's camera over to Captain Dobey and the Bay City Port Police, and relaying their findings and suspicion of Captain Mike, the ER staff determined that Starsky was "all right but needs to rest", so they decided to go to Huggy's bar for a late dinner. The familiar aroma of food, and the distant hum of chatter was a comforting balm after their ordeal.
Huggy noticed them and came over to their booth. "Told you my tip was solid."
"Yeah," Hutch said. "Now we just have to figure out who, what, why, when, where, and how."
Huggy gave the entire left side of Starsky's face a closer look, seeing the beginnings of a hellacious bruise. "You get into a brawl with one of the nurses?"
"Try shark," Hutch said.
"Say what?"
"Yeah," Hutch said looking at Starsky. "Too bad you didn't get a picture of it, huh?"
"Sorry I was unconscious at the time."
Before they could say anything else, the door to the bar opened, and a familiar figure stepped in. Captain Dobey, with his signature scowl that sometimes failed to hide his affection for his two best men, approached their table.
"Well, well," Hutch said with a smile. "Look who it is."
Dobey gestured at Starsky. "Thought I'd join you. Heard today's special is a seafood platter."
Starsky and Hutch looked at each other as if to say, Did he just make a joke?
The end