Standoff
By TLR
Plot: Starsky and Hutch deal with two escapees from Bay City Corrections.
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
A Bay City carwash not far from Hutch's cottage.
It was Saturday morning and the sun sparkled off the Torino's polished surface as Starsky deposited coins for a second rinse cycle and hummed to Top 40 on the car radio via Accessory mode.
As he sprayed the suds away, he couldn't help but be happy, feeling the simple joy of maintaining his prized possession. Another year of busting criminals. Another year of surviving with his partner. The city around him seemed peaceful this morning. The holidays were winding down. Now looking forward to the next year and what it would bring. He wanted to pick Hutch up and take him for a surprise New Year's lunch, so hopefully the Blond Beacon hadn't already made plans.
There were sirens in the distance, but he didn't know their significance until two men in blue prison clothes approached him with a pistol, which made him reach for his under his jacket, but too late. A shot rang out, the bullet searing through his side and spinning him into the wall of the carwash. He clutched the wound as blood stained his deep purple T-shirt, and fell to the ground, groaning, unable to get up.
"Hutch," he panted. "Hutch! Help!"
But his partner was nowhere around. He called out of instinct.
One man opened the driver's side door, turned the key forward and removed it, then opened the trunk.
"Hey," Starsky gasped. "Hey! I'm police!"
"Shut him up," the shooter said to his fellow escapee.
The second retrieved Starsky's gun and punched him in the face until he was unconscious, then they tied Starsky's hands behind him and pushed a handkerchief into his mouth.
"Bad move, cop. Now you're our insurance policy."
They were quick and efficient as they dumped the tied and gagged Starsky in the Torino's trunk and drove away.
::
As the convicts sped away, they left behind a witness. A young woman who had been vacuuming her car nearby heard Starsky's yells and watched in horror as the events unfolded. She quickly ran to a nearby phonebooth and dialed the police.
::
Hutch's phone rang, taking him from his crossword puzzle and ginger tea reverie. He reached for the receiver.
"Good morning, whoever you are."
"Hutch," Captain Dobey said. "We've got a situation. I just got off the phone with Bay City Corrections. There's been a prison break. An eye witness at the carwash down from you says two armed escapees shot Starsky and drove away with him in the trunk of the Torino."
This brought Hutch to his feet, the crossword puzzle falling forgotten from his lap.
"I put out the APB, Hutch, and we have units trying to catch up. Chances are good they're headed out of the city."
Battling the wave of fear that rose in his chest, Hutch began to pace as Dobey briefed him on the escape and the names and descriptions of the escaped inmates.
Hutch didn't even say goodbye. He just threw the receiver down and ran.
::
Hutch jumped into his own car and tore away from the cottage, mind racing with thoughts of his partner's safety. The police radio crackled with updates from the dispatcher, and Dobey, and other police units as they attempted to catch up with the escaped convicts.
As Hutch passed by the carwash, he looked over at it and saw a reddish brown stain on the concrete where Starsky had been shot.
"Please," Hutch silently prayed. "Help me get to him in time."
He pushed the pedal to the floorboard, speeding to catch up to if not overtake and pass the parade of three wailing patrol cars.
"Zebra 3 to Central," he said into the mike. "I'm right behind the units."
As he left the city behind and caught up to the racing patrol cars, now in a more rural area, he spotted something up ahead—a cloud of dust and smoke drifting across the road that was nearly obscuring the black and white units in front of him and bringing all four cop cars-Hutch's LTD being one of them-to a dusty halt in the skid marks.
The Torino had crashed in a ditch and was now on its side, but it was hard to see what else was going on through the billow of dust and smoke.
Weapons drawn, the uniformed officers exited their vehicles and took cover behind them, or behind their open doors, creating a barricade across the two-lane highway that blocked traffic in both directions.
"STARSKY!"
Hutch's heart raced as he jumped out of his car and pulled his gun. When the smoke and dust thinned enough, they could all see what was happening. The two escaped convicts were outside the Torino, out of the ditch, and had a semi-conscious Starsky tied to a tree, one man on his right, the other on his left, each digging a gun into him and pressing against him.
"Starsk?" Hutch asked, hoping he could hear. His partner's eyes were half-closed, and he could only manage weak groans. His side was dark red with blood. "STARSKY!"
Hutch's chest tightened at the sight. He knew he had to act fast.
To the uniformed officers, Hutch shouted, "No one! No uniform makes a move or takes a shot unless I say so!"
This he said to show the convicts he was in charge and would be the one to negotiate with.
To the escapees, he yelled, "Police! Drop your weapons!"
"We got a hostage!"
"I know!" Hutch said. "You're going to have to let him go! Which one of you is Burton! And which one of you is Danvers!"
"What's it to you!"
"I want to know which one of you shot my partner! Because you're going down for it!"
Burton and Danvers looked at each other.
"He did!" Danvers said.
"Don't come any closer!" Burton said. "Or we waste him! He's already half dead!"
"Yeah!" Hutch said. "You need to let a doctor come in there and help him! Or let me! Because if he dies, you're looking at the rest of your life behind bars! No parole! No nothing! Right now you have a chance! You give him to me RIGHT NOW, and we'll work something out!"
Burton punched Starsky's side with the butt of his gun, making him cry out. Starsky's knees weakened and his head went down.
"Stop it!" Hutch yelled.
When the two convicts began talking to each other, Hutch reached for the radio mike and said into it, "Zebra 3 to Central, patch me through to Captain Dobey."
When Dobey's voice sounded, Hutch told him, "I want to send the units away, and talk to the cons alone."
"No way, Hutch. They're both armed. You'll be outnumbered and outgunned. Right now we have the firepower."
"I don't care. These uniforms are too threatening, and the cons are hurting Starsky. They're escalating. I need to get closer, so I can calm them down, so they can think they have the upper hand. Don't make me beg."
Silence over the radio, then Dobey said, "One hour. If it doesn't work, we're going to have to change tactics."
"Thanks." Hutch replaced the mike, then dropped his gun on the ground as he walked up toward the three patrol cars, making sure the escapees saw that, and could hear him speaking to the officers. "Okay. I just talked to Captain Dobey. Everyone leave. I'll handle it. If you want to make yourself useful, block traffic."
The six uniformed officers looked at one another, then quietly got in their vehicles and drove a quarter of a mile in both directions to block traffic on the two-lane highway.
Hutch went back to the LTD and eased it up closer to where Starsky and the convicts were.
Now that he was closer to them, he didn't need to shout, he raised his hands to show the cons he wanted to talk, and looked at Starsky, even though his partner's head was lowered. He got out of the car and said as he approached, "How you doing, partner?"
Burton clutched a handful of Starksy's hair and pulled his head up. "He ain't doin' so hot."
Hutch stiffened at the glazed look in his partner's eyes, and it took every ounce of restraint he had to keep from lunging at the prisoners, when instinct wanted to jump, subdue, kill, and free Starsky. "You're torturing him. Ease up."
"We got demands," Danvers said. "We want a way out of here, no pursuits, and we ain't going back to prison."
"I understand you have demands, but I need to check my partner's wound and make sure he's okay. Because I guarantee you, if he dies, there is no way out, there will be pursuits, and your life will be over."
Burton and Danvers exchanged wary glances and stepped aside and allowed Hutch to come closer, but kept their guns trained on Starsky.
As he knelt beside his wounded partner, Hutch's hands trembled with a mix of anger and fear. Starsky's eyes were half-closed, and his face was pale. Blood oozed from the gunshot wound in his side, staining the tree bark and the front pocket of his jeans.
What bothered Hutch the most was that his partner made no attempt to speak to him. No corny jokes to bluff Hutch into thinking he was in better shape than he really was, so he wouldn't worry. No Bogart impressions.
Gently, Hutch examined the wound, trying to assess the extent of the damage. "Starsk," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion, "hang in there, buddy. Hutch is here."
He glanced from Burton to Danvers. "He needs medical attention, and he needs it now. If you let me call an ambulance, we can get him the help he needs. It's in your best interest to ensure he survives."
Burton remained tense, but Danvers seemed to waver. "Okay, but no tricks."
Hutch stepped over to the LTD and reached in for the mike. "Central, this is Zebra 3. I need an ambulance dispatched to our location immediately. Starsky is down."
As he waited for the ambulance to arrive, Hutch continued to engage with the prisoners. "You've made your demands clear. I want to find a peaceful resolution here. If you release my partner and surrender, we can talk about your grievances and see what can be done. It doesn't have to end in violence."
Danvers nodded slowly, still holding his gun, but seemingly more open to negotiation. "We just don't want to go back to that hellhole. What they do to us prisoners is inhuman. They treat us like animals."
Hutch nodded. "I hear you, and I'll do all I can to help alleviate that, but my priority right now is saving my partner's life."
The two escapees looked at each other.
The distant wail of sirens grew louder as the ambulance approached. Hutch could only hope that it wasn't too late for Starsky to receive the medical attention he desperately needed.
As the paramedics rushed to attend to Starsky, Hutch hovered, ready to continue negotiations with the convicts as soon as the ambulance left. He would become both their hostage and negotiator. He knew that this standoff wasn't over, but at least now Starsky had a fighting chance.
But as the medics loaded Starsky into the rear of the ambulance, his hand reached out from the gurney, imploring. "Hutch... "
Hutch felt his heart melt a little. Starsky would rather stay with him wounded, than get treatment and leave him to deal with the prisoners alone.
"No," Hutch said in his direction. "Go to the hospital, Starsk. I'm okay. I'll join you later. Let them take care of you."
Then the ambulance doors closed on his words and the vehicle took Starsky toward the medical care he needed.
::
Burton gripped Hutch's collar tightly and yanked him away from the tree, putting his gun to his head. "You're coming with us, cop. Your car. Get in the middle."
Burton climbed into the driver's seat, and Danvers slid into the passenger seat, his gun trained on Hutch, who was sandwiched between them.
"You try anything funny, you're dead," Danvers warned as he pressed the barrel of the gun into Hutch's temple.
The LTD roared to life, and Burton floored the gas pedal. The car lurched forward and bypassed the black and white roadblock by careening around it in a field.
As they sped down the two-lane highway, Hutch could hear the police dispatcher crackling through the radio: "All units. Per Captain Dobey's orders, do not pursue Officer Hutchinson's vehicle. The escaped convicts are armed and dangerous. Hutchinson is a hostage."
As the LTD covered ground, Burton and Danvers grinned at each other, while Hutch sat tense but stoic in the middle.
"See that, Danvers?!" Burton laughed. "We're the ones in charge for a change! They have to obey US now!"
Hutch resisted the urge to grab the wheel and take them both on, come what may. Success would be a longshot. Instead, his mind considered alternative plans.
"So," Hutch asked in a surprisingly calm voice, "what's the plan? You can't just drive forever. You'll need food, water, and a place to hide. And eventually we will run out of gas."
Danvers dug the barrel of the gun farther into Hutch's temple. "Don't worry about that, cop. We'll figure it out."
Hutch's eyes flicked to the rearview mirror, watching the road behind them. He needed to find an opening, a moment of distraction to make a last-ditch effort.
As they drove deeper into the rural landscape, the interior of the car grew quieter, the tension thicker. The roads became narrower, flanked by dense, overhanging trees that cast an almost comforting, tunnel-like shade along the road.
That's when Hutch noticed a reflection of light, a flash of movement in the treetops ahead. His heart skipped a beat when he realized it was not just one sniper, but two, three, four, positioned perfectly in the treetops along the road ahead.
He would need to be ready for anything.
"Almost free and clear," Burton said with a glance to Danvers, his grip on the wheel tightening. "We'll head for Mexico. Off this turkey. Home free."
Hutch's mind focused. He had to time this perfectly. The sniper presence was a lifeline, and there was no other traffic on the highway at the moment, which meant other roadblocks had been erected farther out in both directions.
Captain Dobey had been busy.
Without warning, loud cracks echoed through the air, and everything seemed to violently explode at once: The LTD's tires, all windows, and Burton and Danvers's heads.
Hutch grabbed the steering wheel and tried to control the car as it went swerving off the road and into a ditch.
::
In the sudden, bloody silence, Hutch found himself coming to, halfway through the windshield as the snipers and other cops made their hurried way over.
"I'm all right," he said dazedly as he tried to push himself up.
"Stay there," one of the snipers said. "Ambulance on the way."
Hutch murmured something unintelligible as he let his head drop back down onto the hood of his car as he passed out.
::
Captain Dobey arrived on the scene just as Hutch was coming to and being stabilized on the stretcher as he was loaded into the ambulance.
"Hutch, Starsky's okay. You'll be okay too."
Hutch nodded as he looked into his superior's face. "Yeah. But Starsk—he needs to know it's over. Tell him I'm okay."
Dobey placed a reassuring hand on Hutch's shoulder. "He knows. Already told him."
"You sure he's all right?"
"He's fine. Came through emergency surgery and doing just fine."
::
At the hospital, Hutch was treated and moved to a recovery room he would share with Starsky.
For now Starsky was asleep and medicated, so Hutch was able to relax and sleep himself.
Sometime that night, Hutch was awakened by soft balls of tissues pelting his face.
"Huh?" Hutch asked batting them away.
Hutch opened his eyes and looked over at the bed a few feet away, where a pale, glassy-eyed Starsky was looking at him.
"Hey, Blintz," Starsky managed in a weak voice. "Fancy meetin' you here."
Hutch's relieved smile came easy.
"Dirtball. Doin' okay?"
Starsky held his hand out toward Hutch's bed. "Never better. You?"
Hutch clasped his hand. "Fine. My car isn't doing so hot, though."
"Is it ever?"
"Watch it. The tomato isn't in much better shape."
"Guess Merle the Maestro Magician Mechanic Earle has his work cut out for him, huh?"
Just then two pretty nurses walked in holding their charts, which made the partners release each other's hand.
"We thought we heard voices," one smiled. "We're the night shift. I'm Cara, and this is Nikita. We'll take care of you while you're here."
Starsky smiled over at Hutch. "Feelin' better already, aren't you?"
"Most definitely."
the end