Chapter 16

Starsky stopped his car and got out. He ran back over the bridge to see Matwick's car on its roof, its wheels pawing at the sky like some huge metal beast in its death throes. Matwick was held, suspended upside down by the seat belt and the doctor's eyes were wild as he frantically tried to unclip the harness. Around the vehicle was the all pervading smell of gasoline.

Starsky stood back from the car, his head in a turmoil. The shotgun in his hand was forgotten for a moment as his cop brain kicked into gear. All his life he'd been trained to save and protect. As a cop, it was his duty to get people out of trouble and he'd attended enough car crashes to be aware of the dangers. And yet something stopped him diving in to wrench open the door and help Matwick out.

In his head, Starsky replayed the last couple of months; the loneliness of his cell; the periods of blankness when the drugs had over written his system; the pain of the ECT; the knowledge that Matwick was torturing his partner and there was nothing that he, Starsky, could do about it.

Starsky had withstood torture before. He knew the score, but this had been different. There was a pointlessness, a futility to it. He genuinely didn't know the whereabouts of the formula – Hutch had been the one to hide it - and so he couldn't have told Matwick even if he'd wanted to. And Matwick seemed to know that on some sub conscious level. Matwick's treatment of Starsky was barbaric, but not that of someone merely looking for an answer – he had the cop like an animal in a pen – his to use or abuse as he wished and for no other reason that he could do, and would do anything for his own enjoyment.

Starsky's finger twitched on the trigger of the shotgun and suddenly he remembered holding it again.

To hell with the law and to hell with being a cop. Starsky was sick of the flakes who constantly came after them – of the Marcus', the Prudholms and god knew who elses. He was sick of being a walking target and he hated that the whole of the year seemed to be open season on Starsky and Hutch. Enough was enough and if he had to rot in some English jail for murder then so be it because the joy had finally gone out of being a cop.

With a cold grin, Starsky lifted the shotgun to his shoulder and sighted down the barrel. Inside the big car Matwick looked back at him, all pretence of being the cold hard torturer gone as the doctor hung upside down, clawing at his seat belt. Through the smashed window Starsky heard the man moaning and pleading with him to help and yet Starsky's heart had turned to stone and the pleas fell on deaf ears.

Slowly his finger started to squeeze the trigger and in his own head Starsky heard himself yell triumphantly. 'Here's to you, motherfucker.'

The shock of the explosion threw Starsky backwards and knocked the cop off his feet, but it was not the report of the gun that shook the early morning silence. The Land Rover exploded and burst into flames, the shock wave throwing Starsky completely off balance. For one insane moment the cop yelled at the sky, cursing whatever god had taken away his satisfaction of putting a bullet through Matwick's head. Now he would have no revenge. Now he would never have the satisfaction of evening the score... now he wouldn't face a murder wrap.

Slowly Starsky sat up and surveyed the wreckage. Flames leapt skywards, consuming the Land Rover in fire. The cop had one brief sight of Matwick's hand clawing at the door to the car. The doctor's eyes were wide with fear but then a second explosion rocked the car and it was all over for the doctor.

Starsky sat and stared at the wreckage. Could he have helped? Could he have risked the flames to try to save the doctor? Maybe he could, although the chances of success were slim. Would he have taken that chance, if circumstances had allowed? Starsky shook his head. There was no way he would have lifted a finger to help the man who had brought such misery to himself, Hutch and the vulnerable people he'd "treated" over the years. Did that reduce Starsky to Matwick's level? The brunet's mind refused to contemplate that question. Over the years Starsky had stopped trying to psychoanalyse himself or others. The world could be a dirty place and sometimes even the very best human being had to set aside his principles in order to survive.

From nowhere a woman came running and screamed at the sight of the car in flames. She took a look at Starsky, sitting on the frozen grass and knelt by his side.

'Are you ok? You're bleeding. Wait here and I'll call for an ambulance.'

Starsky heard the words but nothing seemed to penetrate the fog clouding his mind. It was over. It was finally all over. The cop started to shake uncontrollably, unable to comprehend that three months of hell were at an end. Dimly he was aware of the woman draping her jacket over his shoulders – of her telling him she would be back in a moment. How long later he didn't know, but he found himself in the accident department of the local hospital talking to a cop in dark blue uniform.

Starsky's mind was closing down. Since his breakout from Guild Lodge he'd more or less lived on adrenaline and now his body's reserves had run low. He answered questions from the local flatfoot only briefly and gave Jess' address as someone to contact before the doctor shooed everyone away. Starsky saw a flash of steel as a needle was pushed once more into his arm and then he felt warm blankets a soft pillow and nothing more for twelve hours.

oOoOoOoOo

Waking up in a hospital was something that regrettably Starsky was used to. This time, however he felt warm and safe and luxuriated in the comfort of the bed for a moment before a familiar voice called his name.

'Starsk? You awake?'

The brunet turned his head on the pillow to see that he was in a twin bedded room and his partner was occupying bed two. Hutch was sat up on the edge of the mattress and looking almost as good as new, if a little thin, a drip feed leading from a small bag to the back of his left hand.

'Am now' Starsky said, amazed that his voice sounded strong and firm.

'You took him out - Matwick?'

Starsky closed his eyes. 'He kinda took himself out. Turns out his drivin' was as bad as yours. He lost control and totalled the car. Right now he's probably toastin' his nuts with the devil.'

There was silence in the small room for a moment, each man lost in his own thoughts. 'How come you're here?'

Hutch smiled. 'A cop came to the door of the cottage. When you weren't around I knew what you were gonna do so I was gettin' ready to come help. The cop said you'd been in an accident an' when I got here, um, the doc wouldn't let me leave.'

'You feelin' better?' Starsky asked.

'Uh huh. You?'

Starsky rolled over onto his side and closed his eyes. 'I'm tired.'

'No wonder. We've...'

The brunet shook his head. 'Not tired... tired. Tired of all this. Of wakin' up in a hospital bed. Of feelin' like we can't walk down a street without some flake takin' a pot shot. Of battlin' all the time. I'm sick of it Hutch. I... ' Starsky stopped and closed his eyes, not wanting to say the words but at the same time wanting to make his partner understand. 'Remember that time on the beach? You came to find me. Things looked bad for a while and we both threw our badges into the ocean.'

Hutch nodded. 'I remember.'

'I wanna do that again. For real. I wanna give it all up an' sail round the world or sumthin.'

'You get seasick on Dobey's fishing pond. Starsk, we've both been in a bad place...'

'And we'll get over it, yeah, I know. But maybe this time I don't wanna get over it. I don't want the worry.'

'Of staying alive?'

Starsky snickered. 'Of makin' sure you stay alive dummy. I want a normal life where I can have a party without someone shootin' at us. Where I can sleep in my own bed without some flake with a needle tryin' to poison me. Where there's no-one around the corner tryin' to turn my partner into a junkie. Hutch, I want to quit.'

There, he'd said it. The words hung on the air between them and although Starsky had expected a huge debate, he got none. Hutch pursed his lips and let out a breath. 'And what do we do after? This is all we know.'

'That's it? No argument?'

'Do you want an argument?' Hutch asked.

'No, but...'

'Ha! Not so certain now, are ya?'

Starsky rolled back onto his back and stared at the ceiling. 'Yeah. I am Hutch. When we get back Stateside I'm gonna walk into Dobey's office and tell him I'm through. This time it's for real Hutch. This time I mean it.'

The blond man shrugged his shoulders. Maybe now was the right time to move. Maybe get married, settle down and have kids...

A nurse came into the room pushing a trolley with a phone on it. 'You have a call long distance from California' she said, handing the phone to Hutch. The blond took it.

'Hutchinson here. Uh huh? When? Fax the details through, we'll start readin'. Ok, we'll be on the next flight back.' The blond put down the phone and looked at his partner. Starsky v'd his eyebrows, waiting.

'You know that retirement you wanted?' Hutch asked. 'It may need to go on hold. That was the Metro. Dobey is missing.'