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annieb111@msn.com AUTHOR'S WEBSITE: < b>http://brothersinarms.tvheaven.com/annie/starskyandhutch.html SACRIFICEThe snitch was a past employee who'd been fired. There were problems with that. In court, a good defense lawyer could use the excuse of revenge for a lost job to get the testimony thrown out. But, this guy, Davis, had the paperwork to prove his claims, so he said, and under intense questioning from Hutchinson he'd admitted that his main motivation was revenge, just not for the reason they thought. His daughter had been a heroin addict. She'd died of an OD about 2 months before he'd lost his job. Then he'd come across the paper work hiding the heroin shipments in a confusing array of import and export logs from Asia, and he'd decided to come across. There was only one problem. The guy was terrified. He'd already received threatening phone calls and there had even been a couple of near miss accidents that he was attributing to Danvers and his goons. He would meet with Hutch and his partner, but alone and on neutral turf. He couldn't risk being seen going to the station. Starsky wasn't happy about it, but Hutch, remembering his own battle with heroin, managed to talk him around. So they'd set up the meet. They'd taken precautions of course. There was back up nearby, just not where it would be noticed by anyone who might be following Davis.
"I think it's gonna be a long night, Blintz. You really think this guy will show?" Starsky asked, stifling a yawn.
"Yeah, I do, Starsk. I think he really wants to put Danvers away and he's our only chance. If we can just get our hands on the paperwork he's got, we might be able to make a case."
"The paperwork he says he's got," Starsky reminded his partner.
"Look, I believe him, okay? We have to at least try to shut this guy down. We have to try every angle we can to nail him. Don't you think?" Hutch asked heatedly.
"Whoa, take it easy, partner!" Starsky put a hand up to stop the flow of words. "Yes, I wanna put this creep away as much as you do. But we've had no luck getting anything on Danvers before. I just want to be sure we're not grasping at straws here and whatever we get, I want to be sure it's gonna hold up in court. Hutch, if Danvers walks, you know double jeopardy attaches and we won't have another chance at him. He'll just go underground, probably move somewhere else and set up his dirty little operation again. I just wanna be sure, okay?"
Hutch sighed, knowing his partner was right. "Okay, Starsk, but I think we're onto something here."
"Oh, oh, here we go," Starsky said, noticing a beam from a flashlight picking its way across the deserted parking lot.
"He'll probably feel safer if I get out and talk to him first," Hutch replied. "Then, when I'm sure he's comfortable, I'll signal you, okay?"
"Yeah, just watch your back, Hutch."
"I will. Better still, you watch it for me," Hutch said with a quick grin. He opened the door quietly and climbed out of the car.
The man with the flashlight whispered across to him. "Hey, Detective, that you?"
"Yeah, it's me, Davis. Look, my partner's in the car. I'm going to get him get out and keep watch, okay? That way, there'll be no surprises for any of us," Hutch called back quietly.
"Alright, but tell him to get out real slow. No sudden moves."
"Starsky, get out easy, okay, pal. This guy is really spooked," Hutch turned back and called to his partner. He watched as Starsky threw him a quick thumbs up and a cheesy grin and then all hell broke loose.
He saw the dirt kick up next to his feet as the rattle of an automatic filled the air. He twisted desperately to the side, his own gun up and firing in the direction of the assault, even as he threw himself down behind the car. Starsky was already half out of the door, his own gun in his hand. Hutch saw him flatten himself across the front seat, grabbing for the radio, his urgent words summoning backup.
Davis had thrown himself flat on the ground at the first shot. Hutch saw a crimson flash on his shoulder and back. He moaned, crying for help, his eyes pain-filled and beseeching.
Checking to see that Starsky was okay, Hutch made a snap decision. He had to get to Davis. The man had risked his life to get them the evidence they needed, and Hutch sure as hell wasn't going to leave him out there alone to die in a hail of bullets. He pushed off from the car, keeping low, trying to zigzag, hearing Starsky laying down covering fire as he ran. As he reached Davis, he crouched as low to the ground as he could, endeavoring to make his body as small a target as possible. He grasped the man's good arm, half raising him from the ground, despite his groans of pain, and turning, began towing him back to the cover of the car. He could hear the wail of sirens coming closer. Help was on the way! He shoved Davis ahead of him the last couple of yards, yelling at him to keep down, and then made a flying leap for safety himself.
He heard as much as felt the bullet hitting him in the thigh. The impact sent him sprawling on top of the informant. He could hear car doors slamming, the sirens still wailing, and barked orders as he tried to push the darkness away. Davis moaned beneath him, pushing at the weight pinning him to the ground. He felt hands pulling him none too gently out of the way and Starsky's voice in his ear.
"Hey, Hutch, what are you trying to do? Flatten him?"
Hutch saw Starsky bend close to Davis, then his hand reached inside the informant's jacket and retrieved some papers.
The paramedics came running, but within seconds they looked up at Starsky and shook their heads. Davis was dead.
"Hutch? You need a hand?" Starsky asked.
Hutch gazed back at him dazedly. The wound in his leg was really throbbing now and it was as much as he could do to hang onto the threads of his consciousness.
"Hey, pal. You okay? Are you hit?" Starsky asked, puzzlement in his voice as he knelt at his friend's side.
Hutch nodded wearily. He suddenly felt too tired for words. His hand wavered down toward the wound in his leg, then he felt it grasped tightly and he was pushed gently to lay flat on the ground.
"Captain, get those paramedics over here. Hutch is hit!" he heard Starsky yell, his voice tight with worry.
Hutch felt everything blurring, even the pain, but he made an effort to ask the one thing he needed to know. "Davis? The papers?" he grunted hoarsely.
"Davis is dead. I've got the papers right here, buddy. You just stay still, okay. Just keep breathing." Starsky was shunted aside by the medics. He moved to crouch at Hutch's head, placing his hand on his shoulder, urging him not to move.
The medics placed a pressure bandage on the bleeding entry wound and transferred Hutch to the gurney for transport to the hospital. Hutch felt and saw it all as if from a vast distance, aware only of Starsky's hand on his shoulder. As they lifted him into the ambulance he finally closed his eyes and let the blackness carry him away.
He woke slowly, feeling the dull ache of the wound in his thigh, the feel of the oxygen cannula against his face and the tug of the IV in his arm. He turned his head and met the dark blue eyes of his partner. He'd known Starsky would be there, at his side, just like always.
"Hey, Hutch, 'bout time you woke up. You've been out for nearly 15 hours. You in any pain?"
Hutch shook his head and smiled faintly. "It's not too bad. Davis didn't make it, huh?" he asked, his memory still just a blur of half remembered images from the night before.
"No, sorry, pal. But we've got Danvers. They picked him up early this morning. Those papers Davis was carrying are dynamite, Hutch. There's no way he's gonna talk his way out of this one."
"I just wish... " Hutch's voice trailed off. Davis had given his life to get them what they needed. He wished he'd been able to get to him sooner.
"I know, Hutch. But you tried. Davis would have known that, and you trusted him even when I didn't."
"Yeah." Hutch closed his eyes, sleep pulling at him, dragging him back down to unconsciousness.
********
"Get some sleep, Hutch. I'll be back later." Starsky realised his partner was already out, oblivious to his whispered words. He patted him on the shoulder and walked to the door, opening it as quietly as he could. Before leaving, he looked over at the sleeping form on the bed once more. Then, relieved, he headed down the corridor. He needed some shuteye himself.
The End