The morning sun shining through the grime-covered windows awakened Starsky from his fitful sleep. He stretched his neck from side to side, trying to relieve some of the stiffness that had settled into his muscles overnight. Looking over to his partner, he saw that Hutch was still in a restless sleep, his head lolling from side to side. The loud snoring sounds coming from the couch was proof that Manning was still sleeping off the previous night's drunk.

   The events of the day ahead weighed heavily on Starsky's mind. He felt as if the weight of the world was upon his shoulders, because Hutch was his world. Starsky stared at his partner intently, his soft, blonde hair tangled and matted against his head. The bruising around his mouth was now evident from being struck with his own gun. His shirt was torn and stained with blood. The muscles in his arms were tensed against the ropes that bound him, as if struggling to break free, even in sleep. Starsky always knew his partner to be strong, physically and mentally, but looking at him now, he looked as vulnerable as a newborn kitten. Aware of what could happen if he failed today, Starsky took a deep breath and looked upward, silently asking a higher source to help him get through this and not let his partner down.

   Starsky's thoughts were abruptly interrupted as Somers appeared from the bedroom, banging the door against the wall. Hutch was jolted awake by the sudden noise, grimacing as the sudden movement sent a wave of pain throughout his body. Seeing the two detectives awake and obviously not well rested, he greeted them with sarcasm, "Morning boys. I trust you slept well." He continued on into the bathroom, slamming the door. The sound of the shower being turned on could be heard. Manning continued snoring, oblivious to the noise around him.

   Starsky smiled at his partner trying to sound upbeat. "Hey, partner. How you doing this morning?"

   "Okay." Hutch slowly moved his head front to back and side to side. "Damn, remind me never to complain about sleeping accommodations at the Motel 6 again."

   Starsky was pleased to see his partner's humor back. "How's your leg feel?"

   "Not too bad, actually." Hutch leaned forward as much as he could against the ropes, looking at his leg. "It doesn't look like it bled much during the night, so that's a good sign." Knowing they wouldn't have long to talk, he lowered his voice, looking to make sure that Somers was still in the bathroom and Manning was still asleep. "I know this may be a long shot, but there's an extra set of handcuff keys in my gym bag in the trunk of your car. Think there's any chance of you getting to them?"

   "I doubt it, Hutch. I don't think Somers is going to let me go rummaging around in my trunk for anything."

   Hutch nodded, knowing that Starsky was right.

   "Think Dobey caught on to what I was saying yesterday?" Starsky was grasping for anything promising. He listened again for Manning's uneven snoring.

   "If he did, he didn't let on. When we don't show up for work tomorrow though, he'll know something's wrong. He'll have someone out looking for us by mid-morning." Hutch was hopeful.

   Manning let out a snort and began to stir. Starsky and Hutch ended their conversation, not chancing anything being overheard. Hung over and sporting a major headache, Manning sat up from the couch. "What are you two looking at?" he snapped, his head throbbing. The two detectives looked away, not wanting to further irritate his foul mood.

   Somers appeared from the bathroom, his long, stringy hair now wet and hanging in his face. Bare-chested, the tattoo of a naked lady decorated his smooth skin. Starsky's Beretta was tucked in the waistline of his wrinkled jeans. As he pulled his hair back with a rubberband, he commented, "Damn, Carl, you look like hell."

   "Yeah, well you don't look much better," he replied, rubbing his temples. Standing up from the couch, he stumbled into the kitchen to make a strong pot of coffee.

   Both detectives were in dire need of the bathroom. Starsky felt Somers was the lesser of two evils to ask. "Hey, you think I could use the restroom?"

   Somers looked to the kitchen where Manning was sitting at the table holding his head. Remembering the comment last night about him going soft, he thought it was better to check first. "Hey, Carl, I'm gonna let these two clowns loose long enough to use the restroom, okay?"

   "I don't care what you do," he said, truly feeling the aftereffects of the eight or so beers he had consumed the night before.

   "Okay, you first," Somers said to Starsky. He removed the ropes around his midsection and legs and one of the cuffs on his wrists. "Make it quick."

   Starsky slowly stood from the chair, his muscles aching and stiff. He stretched his arms and back and strolled to the bathroom. Returning a few minutes later, he sat back down. Somers replaced the cuff but left the ropes off, much to the relief of Starsky.

   "Okay, blondie. You're turn." Somers removed Hutch's ropes and cuffs. It wasn't going to be as easy for Hutch. He slowly stood, trying to stay balanced on one leg as he moved his sore, stiff limbs. Leaning heavily on the back of the chair, he paused to wait for the circulation to return to his extremities.

   Somers couldn't resist the temptation. He kicked the chair that the blonde was using for support. Hutch immediately lost his balance and fell to the floor. Somers burst out laughing. "Ooops!"

   "You son of a bitch!" Starsky screamed. "Can't you see he needs help?!" "If you think I'm helping him to the john, you've got another thing comin!" Somers retorted.

   Hutch was attempting to get back up, eyes full of that Hutchinson rage. "No, I got it Starsk." He was determined to not let him win this battle. Bracing himself against the same chair, he kept a close eye on Somers not taking a chance on him repeating the scenario.

   Manning heard the commotion and came into the room, still holding his head. "What the hell is going on in here?" He saw Hutch struggling to get up from the floor.

   "Oh, blondie here just lost his balance that's all," Somers chortled, hoping to renew Manning's confidence in him.

   "Well, keep it down," he replied, paying no attention to the situation. Mumbling an obscenity, he returned to the kitchen.

   Starsky was infuriated. "Hutch, just take it easy. Go nice and slow."

   Hutch was outraged at being ridiculed. With sheer determination, he got up and limped to the bathroom. He returned moments later, giving Somers a cold, confident stare, and sat down. Somers clamped the cuff back onto his wrist. He then joined his hung over friend in the kitchen.

   "Are you okay, Hutch?" Starsky asked with concern.

   Hutch's anger was still taking precedence over his pain. "You give me five minutes with either one of those bastards without these handcuffs, and I'd show them just how tough they are."

   "Just hang in there, buddy. We're gonna get out of this." Starsky was trying to reassure Hutch as much as he was himself.

********

   The rest of the morning passed uneventfully. Manning seemed to recover from his hang over after three cups of coffee and a hot shower. Somers busied himself ironing out the last few details of the heist. Finally, it was time for Starsky and Somers to leave.

   "Well, it looks like it's about that time, Detective Starsky. You ready to be the bad guy for a change?" Somers asked.

   "Let's do it and get it over with," Starsky replied sternly.

   "Okay, what time do you think you'll be back here?" Manning was seated at the desk, polishing Hutch's gun.

   "It's 11:00, now. I figure it will take twenty-five minutes each way to get there and back and no more than ten minutes to do the job, so give us to no later than 12:15. I'll give curly a few extra minutes, since this is his first job." Somers walked over to Starsky and pulled him from the chair. "Let's go. I'm gonna take these cuffs off of you now. Don't try anything. Remember it's up to you whether your partner lives or dies."

   Manning smiled at Hutch. "You hear that Hutchinson? You better hope that partner of yours doesn't screw up. I'll be watching out this window and if he doesn't come back here with Tony, or he decides to bring a few friends of his along for the ride, your history."

   Hutch ignored him. He looked to his partner. "Be careful, Starsk."

   "Hey, I'll be back in time for lunch." Starsky gave his friend one last smile and headed out the door with Somers.

   Manning laid the Magnum on the desk. He stretched his arms then locked his fingers behind his head. With a menacing smile he said to his captive, "Well, it looks like it just you and me, blondie."

********

   The Torino roared out of the driveway towards its destination. Somers kept his gun trained on Starsky throughout the trip.

   "So, how'd you get caught up in this line of work?" Starsky asked, trying to take the edge off the situation.

   "Beats working at McDonald's," he answered sarcastically. "Yeah, Carl figures one more job after this and we'll be sittin pretty for a while. It's a place he picked called Droste's jewelry. It should be a pushover, too."

   "Manning seems to be the one holding all the cards," Starsky dared to say.

   This didn't set well with Somers. "Hey, if it weren't for him and Danny, I'd still be doing liquor stores and lifting wallets. Carl taught me the ropes for doing the big heists. I owe him a lot."

   "He seems to be letting you take all the risks." Starsky was trying to plant a seed of doubt in his mind. "All he has to do is wait for you to bring him the loot. He's got nothing to lose."

   Somers had heard enough. "Yeah, but you do. Now shut up and drive!" He jabbed Starsky in the ribs with the gun, reminding him who was in control.

   Several minutes later they arrived in front of the jewelry store. It was a small business on a quiet street. Starsky had been in there before, looking at watches. He felt a sense of dread come over him.

   Before Somers had the chance to say anything, Starsky took notice of a tall, thin black man walking down the sidewalk towards the Torino.

   "Oh, no. It couldn't be," Starsky muttered.

   "What," Somers questioned. "What is it?"

   "I know that guy. He's a good friend of mine," Starsky answered, still in disbelief.

   Huggy was coming right towards the car. Somers took the gun and held it down beside the seat. "Nothing funny, man, or I'll blow you both away."

   "Hey, Starsky my man. How's it going?" Huggy leaned on the door of the striped tomato.

   Beads of perspiration were forming on Starsky's forehead. "Hey, Huggy. What brings you to this part of town?"

   "Just callin' on a lady friend, if you know what I mean." Huggy smiled and looked to the passenger seat, expecting as always to see Hutch. "Hey, where's the blond blintz?"

   Starsky saw his chance. "He's not feelin too well, Huggy. Ate a couple of bad burritos for lunch yesterday." He motioned towards Somers. "This here is an old friend of Hutch's from college, Ben Forrest. He's visiting from out of town. I told Hutch I'd show him around since he wasn't feeling well."

   "Hi," Somers said with a fake smile.

   Huggy gave a quick nod to Somers. He knew something was up but sensed this was not the time to do something about it. He glanced back at Starsky. "Uh, okay, Starsky. You all have a good time. I'll catch you later. Take it easy, Ben." He got into his car and left.

   Starsky and Somers both let out a sigh of relief. "Good job, Starsky. Now let's go."

   Starsky's heart was racing. "Don't I need a gun or something? I have to look convincing."

   "Yeah, sure." He took the extra gun from his pocket and emptied the clip. Tossing it in Starsky's lap he said, "There you go, hero. Let's do it."

   Making a quick check to ensure no one else was around, they donned their knit masks, guns in hand, and barreled into the store. The jeweler, a petite man in his late fifties, was the lone person in the store.

   Somers immediately shot out the security camera with Starsky's Beretta. "Okay, don't move. Do as I say and you won't get hurt."

   The terrified man immediately threw his arms up. "Take what you want, just don't hurt me." He was practically crying.

   Starsky paused for a moment, never before causing such fear in an innocent person. This man was the one that had so patiently showed him every watch in the showcase, only to have Starsky leave undecided.

   Somers noticed the detective's hesitation. "C'mon, man, get crackin'." He started busting the showcase glass, taking everything within reach.

   Starsky's thoughts returned to Hutch. He cleared his head and began busting the glass alongside the one Somers was emptying. Starsky grabbed all the rings and watches and stuffed them into a cloth bag.

   Somers knew the amount of time they could chance on being in a store before it was time to leave. "Times up. Let's get outta here!"

   Starsky followed Somers out the door, taking one sympathetic look back at the cowering jeweler. They jumped into the Torino. With tires squealing, they headed back out of town. Starsky floored it, not taking any chances on missing his deadline.

   Somers took his mask off and looked into the bags at their reward. "Damn, Starsky you did all right! These will fetch a pretty penny." He held up several diamond solitaire rings. "Oh, and I'll take the gun back. Don't think you'll need that anymore."

   Starsky tossed the gun at Somers and jerked the mask from his face throwing it in the floorboard. He was sickened by the whole situation.

   Somers, noticing Starsky's obvious anger, said, "Well, look on the bright side. You still have thirty minutes to get back to your precious partner. And there's not a cop in sight."

********

   Back at the house, Manning was sitting at the small wooden desk, carefully looking over Hutch's gun. "This is a nice piece. Ever kill anybody with it?"

   Hutch, ignoring him, just stared straight ahead. Manning smiled. He aimed the gun at Hutch, spun the cylinder, and then made a shooting sound. "BANG!" he taunted. Hutch continued to ignore him, seemingly bored with his antics. Manning just shrugged and laid the Magnum on the table. He then pulled open the drawer and took out a small zippered pouch. From it, he removed a syringe, spoon, elastic strap, lighter, and a plastic bag containing a powdered substance. Hutch saw this out of the corner of his eye. An overwhelming fear gripped him. Manning heated a small amount of the powder in the spoon and drew it up into the syringe. Shifting uneasily in his chair, Hutch was on the verge of panic, but he tried not to show it. To his relief, he saw Manning roll up his own sleeve, tie the elastic strap around his arm and inject the heroin. He released the strap, lit up a cigarette and let the warmth slide through his veins. Closing his eyes, he was consumed by the rush. Hutch let out a deep sigh of relief and tried to calm himself back down.

   After a few minutes, Manning opened his eyes. He looked over at Hutch, an evil smile spreading across his face. "Hey, Hutchinson, you like to ride horses?" Hutch looked away, trying not to show the sheer terror in his eyes. Manning laughed, unaware of what Hutch had been through in the past. "Nah, you probably won't even take an aspirin when you've got a headache."

   He didn't say anymore for the next few minutes, lost in drug-induced thought. Hutch still looked away, praying Manning would let it go. His hope quickly faded.

   Manning snickered, suddenly coming up with an idea. Hutch heard him mutter under his breath, "Damn, I ain't never seen a cop trip before." He began to heat up more of the heroin and filled the syringe again.

   Hutch was already struggling against the handcuffs. "You stay away from me, Manning!" He was trying to sound threatening.

   Manning just laughed, as he walked with the needle toward the terrified blonde. "Yeah, what are you gonna do about it, pig?"

   "Get away from me!" Hutch pushed himself up with his feet, ignoring the pain in his leg, as he attempted to escape from his worst nightmare. Manning grabbed him by the front of the shirt and, sweeping his legs, threw him to the floor on his back. Hutch was fighting with everything he had, but with his hands cuffed behind him, he was at a great disadvantage. Manning pushed his knee onto Hutch's chest, pinning him down. Hutch struggled to breathe. Manning jerked on the blonde's left arm, trying to expose a vein. Hutch felt the skin around his wrists being ripped open as he struggled harder. His efforts were futile. Throwing his head back against the floor, Hutch pleaded, "God...no...please...don't!"

   "Don't fight it so much, Hutchinson! You might like it!" Manning pushed Hutch's sleeve up and tied the elastic strap on.

   Just when he was about to inject the heroin, the front door opened. Starsky and Somers had returned.

   "Starsky!" Hutch screamed, his eyes desperately searching the room for his partner.

   Somers saw the struggle on the floor. "Manning, what the hell are you doing?"

   Starsky realized what was happening. His hands still free, he lunged at Manning with intense ferocity, knocking the syringe away from Hutch's arm just as the tip of the needle pierced his skin. "Get that away from him you son of a bitch!"

   Manning was tossed against the wall like a rag doll, never having the chance to empty the syringe. Temporarily dazed, he sat there for a moment gathering his senses.

   Hutch had rolled to his side, gasping for breath. Starsky pulled him from the floor into his lap, cradling his hysterical partner. "Hutch! Hutch! You okay?"

   Thinking that he had been injected with the heroin, Hutch was inconsolable. Starsky watched as his partner's strong, confident exterior crumbled. "Oh, god, Starsky! I can't do this again! I just can't!"

   "Hutch, it's going to be okay." Starsky held him close. "Nothing happened, okay? Nothing happened."

   Hutch was still struggling against the handcuffs. "But I felt the needle, Starsk. Oh, god, no!"

   "No, Hutch. I got here in time. Trust me okay?" Starsky rubbed his partner's arms, trying to calm him down. Manning had gotten up from the floor, angry at Starsky's attack on him. He headed towards the dark-haired detective. "You stay the hell away from us!" Starsky screamed, just daring him to come any closer. An indescribable rage filled his eyes.

   Manning was startled at the reaction from Starsky. He sensed that there was more to this than he knew about. Intrigued, he stopped and watched the two with interest.

   Starsky lifted his trembling partner from the floor and helped him to the couch. His leg was bleeding again. Without even looking at his captors, Starsky went into the bathroom, bringing out a warm bowl of water and some clean towels. He wet one of the towels and began wiping Hutch's

   pale face. "See you're okay, Hutch. You don't feel any different do you?"

   Hutch finally began to calm down as the truth of his partner's words soaked in. "I'm sorry, Starsk. I didn't mean to lose it. I just thought that...Oh, god, if you hadn't came back..."

   "I know, babe. You don't have to say it. You're fine now. I'm here." Hutch tried to shift his weight off of his hands. Starsky looked at Manning. "Can't you take these damn handcuffs off of him for awhile? I need to bandage his wrists."

   Manning hesitated but then agreed. "All right, but they're not staying off long, so hurry up." Somers was taken aback by his answer, never seeing Manning give in to anybody.

   Manning leaned Hutch forward and removed the cuffs. Hutch's arms fell to his side, stiff and numb. Breathing a sigh of relief, Hutch slowly pulled his arms to his chest, his bloodied wrists staining his shirt.

   "Enjoy it while it lasts." Manning said coldly. Confident the two would stay put, he looked to Somers and motioned towards the kitchen. "C'mon and show me what you got. I want all the details." Somers followed him into the next room, standing where they could keep a watchful eye on the two detectives.

   Hutch, finally catching his breath, smiled at his partner, thankful to be looking into his blue eyes. "I'm so glad you made it okay. How'd it go?"

   Starsky was unwrapping Hutch's leg and reapplying a fresh bandage as he spoke to him. "I guess as well as any armed robbery could go. But the look in that man's eye, Hutch, the fear that I saw, --now I know why we're cops. If we can just keep one person from going through what he went through, it makes it all worth it." He lowered his voice. "I saw Huggy. I think he knew something was up. He asked where you were. I told him the same story I told Dobey-that you got sick from eating a couple of burritos."

   "Did he ask who Somers was?" Hutch asked, rubbing his aching arms.

   "Yeah, I think that's the part that made Huggy realize something was wrong. I told him that he was an old friend of yours from college, Ben Forrest."

   Hutch felt a chill run up his spine at the mention of that name, but he knew Huggy would know that this was no friend of his.

   Starsky took Hutch's hands and began gently dabbing his wrists with the warm cloth, preparing to bandage them. "I know he suspected something. He'll check into it."

   "Well, that's another glimmer of hope." Hutch smiled softly as he watched his friend carefully bandage his wrists. "If they stick to their previous pattern, they probably won't pull their last heist for a couple of days. Maybe it will buy us enough time before they decide to do something drastic."

   "Yeah," Starsky agreed, nodding his head. He knew what that something drastic was.

********

   In the kitchen, Manning was anxious to look at the take from the heist. "Woo-Hoo! There are some beauties here!"

   "Yeah, it was a piece of cake, man," Somers bragged. "That pig is a regular Jesse James. You should have seen him bust that glass and grab those jewels--like a pro. Got us the hell out of there, too. He was so worried about getting back here to his precious partner, I think he could have outran a whole fleet of police cars. This is working out great."

   "I want to do the last heist tomorrow." Manning glanced into the living room at the two detectives. "Then we can get rid of those two cops and head for Mexico."

   "Don't you think that's a little soon, hittin' two days in a row?" Somers questioned.

   "We've always waited a few days before. They'll never expect us to hit again so soon. We've already cased the place, so they're shouldn't be anything to it." Manning was confident. "Then we take care of our cop friends, fence a few of the diamonds to get us across the border, then its on to easy street."

   Somers motioned towards Starsky and Hutch. "How you gonna do it?"

   "Oh, I figure they'll be good for a little target practice. Then we can stuff them in the trunk of that hotrod and sink it in that big lake up the road, nothing fancy. We'll be long gone before anyone finds them. I owe it to Danny." Manning showed no feeling as he described his plan.

********

   Back at Metro, Dobey was sorting through paperwork when there was a knock on the door. "Yeah, what is it?"

   The door opened and in came Michael Sanchez, a two-year veteran that Dobey had checking into the latest heist, while Starsky and Hutch were gone. "Uh, sir, I spoke with the owner in that jewelry store heist that took place earlier today. He couldn't tell me much about the robbers themselves since they were wearing masks. There were two of them. I did get a description of the getaway vehicle, though."

   "Dark green Chevy sedan with Nevada plates?" Dobey asked, expecting this description.

   "No, actually sir, it was a red 76 Ford Gran Torino with a large white stripe down the side," he replied hesitantly.

   "A red Torino with a white stripe?!" Dobey repeated in disbelief. "Are you sure about that?"

   "Yes, sir. I have three witnesses who all gave the same description." Sanchez paused before he asked, "Isn't that a description of Detective Starsky's car, sir?"

   "There's been more than one of those cars around before!" he said in defense of Starsky. That same uneasiness that he felt after talking with Starsky yesterday was creeping back over him. "I'll check into it, Sanchez. Thank you."

   Sanchez nodded and left the office.

   Dobey was just reaching for the phone to call Starsky when it rang. "Dobey!" he answered gruffly.

   "Hey, Captain Dobey, it's Huggy Bear," the voice on the other end announced.

   "What's up, Huggy?" Dobey asked.

   "Have you talked to Starsky or Hutch today?"

   "No, I was just getting ready to call Starsky. Why?" Dobey was concerned. "Well, I just had a chat with Starsky over on Willow Street. Somethin wasn't right. He had some dude with long blonde hair with him. Had it pulled back in a ponytail. Said his name was Ben Forrest, a friend of Hutch's from college."

   "Was Hutch with them?" Dobey asked.

   "No, he said that Hutch had gotten sick from eating a couple of burritos. Now, I know the blonde blintz and I know that any cat named Ben Forrest is no friend of his. And I also know that Hutch wouldn't eat a burrito even if there were some foxy lady wearing nothing but an apron serving it to him. No, something was up. I could see it in those baby blues of Starsky's"

   It suddenly dawned on Dobey the message that Starsky had been trying to give him. Hutch doesn't eat burritos. Starsky was trying to tell him that something was wrong. The jewelry heist today had taken place on Willow Street, where Huggy had last seen Starsky. "Huggy, I think Starsky and Hutch may be in trouble. I just got a description of the getaway car that was used in a jewelry store heist over on Willow. It matched Starsky's car. I'm checking into it right now. Can you put the word out on the streets? See, if you can find out any info on the thugs pulling these heists. Also, stop down here by the station. Maybe you can identify the guy who was with Starsky from some mug shots. And if you hear from either Starsky or Hutch, let me know."

   "Will do, Captain." Huggy hung up the phone.

   Dobey hung up and then immediately tried both Starsky and Hutch's apartments. There was no answer. Dialing the phone once more, he said, "Yes, I want an APB out on Detectives David Starsky and Kenneth Hutchinson."

********

   While Manning started on his usual drinking binge at the kitchen table, Somers returned to the living room with two sandwiches and a couple of canned drinks. He sat it on the table next to the couch. "Here, you two better eat before I have to put the cuffs back on you." Turning the TV on, he sat down in the chair, still watching them closely.

   Starsky helped his friend sit up and sat down beside him. "Hey, Hutch, things are looking up. It's turkey."

   Hutch couldn't help but smile at his partner's optimism. He hadn't had anything to eat since his protein shake the morning before. His stomach was still in knots, but he bit into the sandwich anyway, wanting to keep his strength. Starsky also ate his, relieved to see his partner finally eat.

   Somers spoke up, "Oh, just so you know, Starsky, you did such a fine job today, you get to pull another heist tomorrow. Place called Droste's jewelry.

   Starsky sat his sandwich down, suddenly losing his appetite. He knew this was the final heist that Somers had mentioned before heading out of town. Knowing what this meant, he looked to Hutch who had also quit eating. "Don't you think that's pushing it a bit? I would think you would want things to calm down a bit before pulling another job." Starsky was trying to persuade him to change his mind.

   "Well, I don't care what you think, pig." Somers snapped. "Tomorrow we do it. You've got no other choice. Now if you are finished eating, go sit back in your chair." He motioned with his gun for Starsky to move.

   Giving his partner an alarmed look, Starsky reluctantly returned to his chair. He took a deep breath, as Somers snapped the cuffs on.

   "Okay, now you blondie." Seeing that Hutch was rising slowly from the broken down couch, Somers reached down to grab him by the shirt. "Here, let me help you," he smirked. Hutch abruptly knocked his hand away and confidently stood up, limping across the room to his chair. Shaking his head, Somers smiled at the blonde's spunk as he tightened the cuffs around his freshly bandaged wrists.

   Starsky and Hutch looked to one another from across the room, blue eyes locking with blue eyes, each one knowing the other's thoughts. Hope was fading fast.

   Manning joined his friend in front of the TV, bringing a case of beer with him. Starsky and Hutch spent the rest of the evening watching their captors empty bottle after bottle. When the beer was gone, the two drunken men once again bound the detectives with rope and collapsed into inebriated slumber.

********

   After another restless night's sleep, Starsky and Hutch awoke to the sound of Somers packing up his few belongings. He brought a battered suitcase out into the living room where Manning was just beginning to rouse.

   "Hey, Carl, you better wake up and get your stuff together. I want to be ready to get out of here when we get back." Somers continued gathering things.

   Yawning and stretching, Manning got up from the couch and retrieved a paper grocery sack from the trash. He threw a pair of dirty jeans, two T-shirts and a box of ammo into the sack and folded it down. "There, I'm packed." He continued on into the bathroom, giving Hutch a pat on the face as he walked by. "Morning, blondie." Hutch jerked his face away from Manning's touch.

   Somers went over to Starsky. "Well, you ready? I want to hit this store as soon as it opens. It has about the same type of layout. There is a woman who usually works the counter. I don't think she'll give us any trouble. It's not as far to drive either, so we should be back here in no time."

   "Why should I help you if you're going to kill us anyway?" Starsky didn't really want to know the answer.

   Manning overheard the conversation and came back out of the bathroom. Untying an elastic strap from his arm and rolling his shirtsleeve down, it was obvious he had just finished shooting up. "I'll tell you why you're gonna help us." He walked up behind Hutch and gently squeezed his shoulders. "Because if you don't do like your told, you're gonna watch me slowly take your partner apart piece by piece before I put you out of your own misery. I noticed he has a terrible aversion to needles. Maybe I'll start with that." Grabbing Hutch by the chin, he twisted the blonde's head to the side, exposing his neck. He grinned as he removed a syringe from his shirt pocket and held it to Hutch's throat, barely pricking his skin with it.

   Hutch was breathing hard, unable to move against the tight ropes binding him. His eyes weren't hiding the fear he was struggling to conceal.

   "Okay! Okay, dammit!" Starsky looked down in resignation.

   "I thought you'd see it my way." Manning released his grip on Hutch and tucked the syringe back in his pocket.

   Hutch shook his head in anger and frustration, hating to see his partner put in this no win situation.

   "How much time do you need, Somers?" Manning had turned his attention to his partner in crime.

   "It's 9:30 now. Give me 'til 10:30, no later." Somers looked at his watch and then to Starsky. "Think you can make it, Starsky?"

   "I'll make it," Starsky answered through gritted teeth.

   Somers removed the ropes and cuffs from Starsky. Keeping his gun on the detective, he said, "Well, let's go then. The clock is ticking."

   Manning was standing next to Hutch. "Don't worry about us. We'll be fine. We might even have a little going away party. What do you think Hutchinson?" Hutch ignored the comment even as he felt the beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

   Starsky looked back at his partner before walking out the door, hating like hell to leave him with this madman. Hutch gave his friend a somber smile. His concerns were for Starsky.

   "Be careful, Starsk."

   "I'll be back as soon as I can, Hutch."

   The look between the two said so much more.

********

   Starsky and Somers headed out once more in the Torino. It was a short drive, only fifteen minutes. Starsky said nothing the entire time, consumed with worry for his partner.

   They pulled up in front of the jewelry store. Starsky did a quick assessment of the place. It was, like Somers said, similar in layout to the other store. He was hoping it would go smoothly. Relieved that the street was empty, Starsky took a deep breath, preparing to get this over as quickly as possible.

   "Okay, let's do it." Somers pulled the knit mask over his stringy blonde hair. He tossed the unloaded gun to Starsky once again. "Don't shoot anybody," he taunted. Starsky rolled his eyes as he pulled the mask over his thick, curly hair.

   "Get down!" Somers warned, as he saw a man exit the jewelry store. Starsky done as he was told, not wanting to risk an innocent person's life. The man, unaware of what was about to transpire, nonchalantly made his way past the Torino and into a parked car. He then drove away.

   "All right, I think the coast is clear."

   Starsky and Somers jumped from the Torino and barged into the jewelry store. As Somers expected, a blonde lady in her late twenties was behind the counter. There were no other customers in the store. Somers abruptly shot out the two security cameras mounted in the far corners of the store. The terrified lady began screaming and threw her hands up.

   "All right lady, don't move. We' re gonna take what we want and then we'll be outta here. If you stay put, you'll stay alive," Somers warned.

   Starsky had already begun breaking the glass, taking the contents and placing them in the cloth bag. Somers followed suit, breaking two more of the cases and grabbing the jewels. He started out the door and yelled back to Starsky, "Let's clear out!"

   Starsky was taking the last of the diamonds from the case he was in. When he went to take his arm out, his sleeve caught on a jagged piece of glass. Starsky jerked hard but the thick material of his shirtsleeve held fast. The lady behind the counter suddenly pulled a gun from a drawer. She was aware of the rash of robberies in the area. Screaming and shaking violently, she screamed, "You bastards, no more!" She fired the gun at Starsky, grazing his right arm. He finally pulled free and ducked down behind the counter as the hysterical lady fired off two more rounds, shattering the remaining glass in the showcase. Shards of glass rained down around Starsky. He tucked his head under his arms protecting himself from the razor-sharp pieces. Realizing that she had just shot a man, the lady panicked and ran screaming out the back door.

   Somers heard the gunshots from inside the store. Seeing that Starsky was not coming, he assumed that the woman had shot him. He panicked and jumped into the Torino and sped off. Starsky heard the roar of the engine. He paused for a moment, making sure the woman was gone. Pulling off the mask, Starsky ran out the door trying to catch Somers, but he was too late. He was already gone. Knowing what this would mean for Hutch, Starsky was desperate. He looked around for a car. An old man driving an antiquated looking vehicle had just parked across the street and was getting out. Starsky ran over to the man. "Mister, I need to borrow your car, please!" In his panic, he had forgotten he was still holding the unloaded gun.

   Seeing the gun, the startled man handed the keys over, screaming, "Okay! Don't shoot! Don't shoot!"

   Starsky realized the man thought he was going to shoot him, but didn't have time to explain. "Uh, I'll bring it back. I promise. Thank you." Starsky jumped in the car and took off, leaving the man dumbfounded at the politeness of the car-jacker. There was no time to call for backup. He was a good five minutes behind Somers, and the sputtering vehicle he was in wasn't going to make up for lost time.

********

   Back at the house, Manning had spent most of the time taking a shower and grabbing a bite to eat. Hutch was relieved to see that he was too preoccupied with his morning routine to pay him much thought.

   Manning heard the roar of the Torino in the driveway at exactly 10:15. "Hey, Hutchinson, your partner's two for two. Lucky you, huh?"

   Somers came barreling in the door.

   "Where's Starsky?!" Manning shouted.

   "That crazy broad behind the counter shot him," Somers replied.

   Hutch was devastated. "Shot him?!" he screamed. "Is he okay?"

   "Shut up, Hutchinson," Manning demanded. "What the hell happened,

   Tony?" "I don't know. I came out of the store. I thought Starsky was right behind me. I heard three gunshots. Starsky never came out."

   "You just left him?!" Hutch was furious.

   "I said shut up, Hutchinson!" Manning was trying to think. "Is he dead?" "I don't know. I just got the hell out of there." Somers could tell Manning was upset.

   "You idiot!" Manning slapped him in the face. "Don't you realize if he's still alive, he'll tell the cops who we are and where we live?"

   "I'm sorry, Carl. I didn't think," Somers apologized.

   "We've got to get out of here, now!" Manning grabbed the loot from their previous heists.

   Hutch was ready to explode. He fiercely struggled against his ropes. "Dammit, Manning! I've got to find him and see if he's okay!"

   "I told you to shut up! You're not going anywhere. Your mine!" Manning took a large roll of duct tape from the desk drawer and tore off a piece.

   "No, please..." Hutch's desperate pleas were reduced to muffled sounds as the duct tape was placed over his mouth. The distraught detective looked down, shaking his head in frustration, helpless to do anything.

   Somers had taken his belongings out to the Torino and was returning to the house. "I'm ready. Let's go."

   "I just have to take care of one more thing." Manning took the Magnum from his waistband.

   "You gonna do him right now?" Somers asked in surprise.

   Hutch's heart raced. He closed his eyes, only comforted by the fact that if Starsky was dead, he'd at least be with him again.

   The loud blast of the gun rang through the air. Hutch jerked, expecting to feel pain explode throughout his body. There was none. He opened his eyes to see Somers slumping to the floor, mouthing the word 'why' to Manning.

   "Thanks for all your help, Tony. It's been fun!" Manning watched as the dying man took his last breath. He turned back to Hutch, undaunted by the blood splattered around him. "Let's go, Hutchinson." He untied the stunned detective's ropes and dragged him out to the Torino. Unlocking the trunk, he shoved the blonde in. Hutch's fall was only softened by his gym bag.

   The trunk was slammed shut, leaving Hutch in total darkness. The Torino sped out of the driveway and down the back roads of the countryside.

********

   Starsky drove as fast as the clinker would allow. Finally reaching the turnoff to the house, he sputtered up the driveway. He saw that his Torino was gone, but the black truck was still there. Being unarmed, he knew that he would not be much of a threat to the heavily armed convicts. He didn't care. It was a risk he had to take. He had to save Hutch. Sneaking up under a window, he made a quick glance through the dirty glass. There were no signs of movement inside. He could not see the chair where Hutch had been sitting. Starsky looked around for anything that he could use as a weapon. Finding an old shovel, he armed himself and approached the door. Starsky gave the front door a swift kick. It easily gave way. Glancing to either side of the door, he saw that the house was empty. Still being cautious, he quietly moved closer into the living room. His heart sank as he saw a bright red puddle of blood spilling out from behind the couch.

   "Oh, no! Please, no! Starsky knees almost buckled as he walked toward the blood. He was too late. Hoping to find his partner still breathing, Starsky hesitantly peered around the couch, only to be staring into the lifeless face of Tony Somers. A feeling of tremendous relief washed over Starsky as tears welled in his eyes. It wasn't Hutch. He knew that if Manning took his partner, he was probably still alive-for now. There was still time.

   As Starsky bolted for the door, he caught sight of the keys to the black truck on the table. Grabbing them, he ran out and slid behind the wheel of the more dependable vehicle. Starsky knew that Manning would probably stick to the back roads. The Torino was too visible on the city streets. He tore down the driveway in search of his partner.

********

   Darkness enveloped Hutch as he was tossed like a rag doll in the trunk of his partner's speeding car. It was difficult to breathe with the heavy gray tape across his mouth. Sweat rolled down his forehead and stung his eyes. His mind was racing with thoughts of Starsky left bleeding in that jewelry store. Hutch knew he had to free himself and get back to his partner. If he was still alive, he had to be there for him. Struggling to get in a better position, Hutch rolled to his side and groped for his gym bag in the darkness. Finding the handle, he fumbled with numb fingers trying to open the zipper. Finally, he got it open. He felt for the clothes he had stuffed in the bag while in the locker room at Metro. Knowing the handcuff keys were in the pocket of the jeans he had worn the day before yesterday, Hutch strained to pull them out. The metal from the cuffs cut into his skin as the bandages that Starsky had applied were pulled off. At last he was able to grasp the keys. A sudden jerk from the Torino threw Hutch forward. The keys flew from his hand. Hutch thought he would pass out from lack of oxygen as he struggled to search in the pitch black. Rolling to his back, he was able to find them. He had very little feeling left in his hands, but he refused to give up. Twisting his wrists until he thought they would break, he positioned the key in the lock. Like music to his ears, he heard the click of the lock and his wrist pulled free. Hutch quickly removed the other cuff and yanked the tape from his mouth. He took several deep breaths, trying to satisfy his body's need for oxygen.

********

   Paying no attention to the blood soaking the sleeve of his shirt, Starsky raced down the back roads looking for any glimpse of his red car. His eyes searched every field, every dirt trail and pathway. Nothing. Coming around the bend of a sharp curve on the narrow road, Starsky saw a plume of dust in front of him. Flooring the accelerator, he moved closer. His heart jumped as he recognized the familiar taillights. Racing up beside his Torino, Starsky hoped to catch a glimpse of Hutch in the car, but he only saw Manning behind the wheel.

   Manning looked up, startled to see Starsky driving his black truck. He floored the Torino, pulling away from his pursuer. Starsky wouldn't give up so easily and again came up beside Manning. Laughing at the cop's persistence, he jerked the steering wheel, slamming hard into the truck.

   Starsky fought to maintain control on the dirt road, but held his ground.

********

   Hutch was being thrown from side to side in the trunk, but with his hands finally free, was able to brace himself. He heard the crunch of metal against metal. Knowing that another car was involved, Hutch hoped that the cops had finally caught up with Manning. Groping for anything he could use as a weapon, he felt the cool steel of the car's jack handle. Hutch tried to position himself to be ready when the trunk was opened, only to be thrown off balance again.

********

   Manning laughed as he saw Starsky try to recover from the impact. There was another bend in the road up ahead, flanked by several large trees. As both men started to make the curve, Manning gave one last hard swerve into the side of the truck. Starsky could not hold the fishtailing vehicle on the road and careened off the side. He slammed on his brakes before striking a large oak tree. Manning brought the Torino to a screeching halt and returned to the scene of the accident.

********

   Hutch was abruptly thrown against the back of the trunk as the Torino stopped. Righting himself, he laid on his side, weapon in hand, waiting for his chance. He listened intently for voices, anything to give him a clue as to who was chasing Manning.

********

   Manning ran back to the truck, gun in hand, to see if Starsky was still alive. He found the detective slumped forward on the steering wheel, moaning. He grabbed Starsky's shoulder and pulled him back against the seat. Blood trickled down the detective's face as he stared into the evil eyes of Manning.

   Starsky shook his throbbing head, trying to clear his mind. "Where's Hutch you bastard?!"

   "C'mon, I'll show you." Manning pulled open the door and dragged the still dazed detective from the vehicle and back towards the Torino. Standing at the rear of the car, Manning made a fist and pounded several times on the trunk. "Detective Hutchinson, you okay in there? I have someone who is wanting to talk to you!"

   "You son of a bitch! You put him in the trunk?!" Starsky was becoming more alert.

   Hutch's heart pounded as he heard that familiar voice. Starsky was alive! Manning continued, as he kept the gun trained on Starsky, "Well, now that we've all been reunited, it's time to end this happy gathering." He raised his voice so Hutch was sure to hear. "I think I'll keep blondie for a while as a little extra insurance to get me across the border. I'm sure you'll want to say goodbye to your partner, Hutchinson. I don't need him anymore." Manning reached into his pocket and pulled out the keys to the Torino and unlocked the trunk.

   Hutch was ready. Like a trapped animal freed from its cage, Hutch raised up from the trunk swinging the jack handle, knocking the gun from Manning's hand. His strength was fueled by three days of pain, torment and the fear that his partner was dead. Hutch pounced on Manning with the viciousness of a lion attacking its prey. Caught completely off-guard, Manning never had the chance to return one blow. Keeping his weight balanced on his good leg, Hutch landed blow after blow, rendering Manning unconscious in a matter of seconds. Blood spilled from his mouth and misshapen nose. Starsky had to pull Hutch from the now defenseless man as he continued to pummel him.

   Hutch was oblivious to his surroundings until he heard Starsky's voice. "Hutch, Hutch! It's okay! He's out of it. It's over."

   Hutch slumped to the ground, suddenly drained of all his strength. Looking up into Starsky's eyes, he reached to touch his face, making sure it was really him. Starsky was just as entranced, not knowing if he'd ever see his partner alive again. He took hold of Hutch's arms. Their thoughts intertwined with one another as they said in unison, "I thought you were dead." Both overcome with emotion, they embraced, each taking comfort in the other's arms.

   Hutch pulled away first, looking his partner over. Noticing the blood stained sleeve, he was alarmed. "You've been shot. Are you okay?"

   "Just a scratch. Nothing a band aid and a cup of Aunt Rosie's chicken noodle soup won't fix," Starsky reassured.

   "And your head, you may have a concussion. We need to call an ambulance." Hutch's mother hen mode was taking over.

   "Hutch, I'm fine really." Starsky, although usually irritated by his overprotective partner, couldn't help but stare into those concerned blue eyes and smile.

   Their conversation was interrupted as Manning began to moan. He was coming to. Starsky got up and walked to the trunk of the Torino. Retrieving the handcuffs that had bound his partner, he held them up in front of Hutch. "Would you like to do the honors, partner?"

   Hutch smiled as he took the cuffs from his friend. "It would be a pleasure, Starsk." Limping over to Manning, he roughly rolled him to his stomach and slapped the cuffs on, clamping them as tightly as they would go. The now semi-conscious man yelled out in pain as the metal bit into his wrists. Hutch leaned over into the creep's bloodied face, "You have the right to remain silent …"

********

   Huggy was clearing empty glasses from the tables at The Pits, when he heard the very familiar bickering of two voices enter his establishment.

   Moving with ease on the two silver crutches, Hutch was trying to get a point across to his partner. "Starsk, my car is a classic."

   "Hutch, it's a pile of junk." Starsky retorted. "I don't like to be seen driving it. It's not good for my image with the ladies." He tugged at the leather collar on his coat and scanned the bar for a pretty prospect.

   Hutch rolled his eyes as they sat down at a table. "Well, I'm sorry if it's below you to drive me around in my own car, but until you get your car back and I get off these crutches, I'm afraid you're stuck with both of us. And, considering the way your fender crumpled after the bump from that truck, that may be a while." Hutch smiled. " My car would have never buckled like that."

   "Hutch, on your car, you wouldn't have been able to tell. And that was no bump. I could have been killed," Starsky said defensively.

   Huggy approached his two friends, glad to see things were back to normal. "Hey, how's the dynamic duo this fine evening?"

   "A lot better than the last time you saw us." Hutch was referring to Huggy's visit at the hospital.

   "I'll agree with you there, blintz," Huggy replied. Knowing they weren't there just for the atmosphere, he asked, "So what'll it be?"

   "I'll have my usual, Huggy," Hutch answered nonchalantly.

   "Right, one Hutchinson special, turkey on wheat, hold the Mayo." Huggy looked to Starsky.

   "Got any other specials, tonight?" Starsky asked curiously.

   "Well, as a matter of fact we do," Huggy answered proudly. "Starsky, my man, you'll love it. Two beef burritos, smothered in layers of cheese, and an ice-cold beer. Enough to make you drool."

   Starsky felt his stomach turn, his smile quickly faded. Looking across the table at his partner, he saw the best friend a person could ask for and realized just how close he came to losing him. "Make that two Hutchinson specials."

THE END