Musings of a Starsky - Three little words

So this was it.

Hutch was going to act as the messenger boy. Once again putting his life at risk to save another. I yanked hard at the strap securing the elephant gun to the dirt bike in front of me trying to relieve the frustration that was quickly flooding my brain. But more importantly - relieve the frustration that was threatening to invade my heart.

Seconds earlier Hutch had bounded off clutching the bag full of money - ransom for a young girl he didn’t even know but was risking his life to save. Now I’m not saying this was unexpected - it comes with the territory when you’re a cop. We’re here to protect and serve without exception. But still…

‘You be careful.’ That’s what he’d said to me before I had to watch his blonde locks disappearing around the corner. You. Be. Careful. Three little words. I mean people tell you all the time that the ‘three little words’ in life that are the most important one’s you’ll ever here are ‘I love you’. But they’re not. I mean you may ask yourself why I’m having thoughts about this while my partner’s out there running, literally, for his life. It’s just that Hutch’s ‘You be careful’ was filled with far more love, loyalty and emotion than the many I love yous girls have tossed at me over the years.

We’re partners. Best friends. Brothers. We don’t talk about it, but we both know. He’s the other half of me - my brain (the more rational part, usually), my heart and my soul. Course I never tell him this - he knows I hate soapy scenes. But as I get on the bike and wait for his first transmission I can’t help but think that maybe I should have told him more often how much he means to me. I know he’d just tell me that I didn’t need to tell him ‘cos he already knew - but there’s something about saying the words that can make you feel better.

Hutch’s voice interrupts my thoughts and I speed to his first destination praying that he’d make it in time. The seconds that passed as I waited to hear from him again seemed liked hours. They always did when I knew he was in danger.

Come on Hutch talk to me.

Aurora and Pacific, the voice crackled out of the radio and I let out a relieved sigh. However this did nothing to relieve the tension squeezing my chest. We’re in dangerous situations like this all the time - and yet the fear never lessens.

I manoeuvre the bike down a narrow alley as he relays destination three. Hurry up Hutch, my brain screams hoping that maybe he’ll hear me. I want this over soon. The hairs on the back of my neck are standing up - that feeling only ever comes over me when something really bad’s going to…

Oh my God

‘Huuuuuuuuuuutch!’ I scream as loud as I can as I take in the sight before me. I see the gun aimed straight at my partner and I know there’s nothing I can do to stop this. For one of the first times ever I am completely unable to do something to save him other than yell. II swore to myself when I realised just how much he meant to me that I’d take a bullet for him without a second thought. That’s what partners do. And now here was the moment when all I could do was watch as Hutch was thrown backwards through a glass fronted door.

Helpless. That’s how I feel right now. Even when Hutch was going through the worst of his heroin withdrawal after Ben Forrest had forcefully injected him to gain information I hadn’t felt this helpless. I couldn’t take the pain from him then but at least I could try and make it easier for him.

But now…

I swear my heart stopped at that moment. Thousands of emotions start to invade my mind, but one is stronger than them all.

Anger.

It is the sheer desperate anger that comes over a man when he knows he has nothing left to lose. I push the bike to go faster as I take off after my partner’s murderer. Murderer. The thought twists my heart in my chest and I don’t even feel the impact as I hit the cold floor of the alley as the kidnapper’s car barrels towards me. I reach straight for the elephant gun, take aim and without even a drop of remorse I pull the trigger and watch as the car becomes a speeding fireball right before my eyes.

Murdered.

Hutch.

Dead.

Gone.

The words cloud my mind like a thick fog as I race back to where I saw Hutch fall. I screech to a halt at the kerb and let the bike fall with a clatter to the ground, not even killing the engine. So it might be damaged. Who cares? At this moment you could take my beloved car and crush her to bits right in front of my eyes and it wouldn’t bother me. All that concerns me is getting to Hutch this one last time.

I blindly shove the gathered spectators away. I’ve been a cop long enough not to be shocked by the crowd a dead body can summon. As I draw closer my heart stops for the second time that day as I see Hutch propped up against the door frame. Alive

Alive.

I throw the helmet from my head and drop to my knees next to him. I reach out my hand to touch his face. Hell just to touch him at all and know he’s alive. The blood on his head and arm registers dimly in my mind but the fact that his eyes are blinking back at me is the single thing occupying my thoughts.

‘I thought you were dead,’ I croak out as his hand reaches up to rest on my hair. It’s a brief connection but I understand his unspoken words.

And it’s then I hear the most miraculous three little words that I’m likely to hear in my life.

‘Bulletproof vest, remember?’

END

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