From: hillemann@mac.cc.macalstr.edu Newsgroups: alt.tv.quantum-leap.creative Subject: "Partners" (Part 9) Date: 18 Apr 95 22:13:38 -0600 Organization: Macalester College Message-Id: <1995Apr18.221339.1@mac.cc.macalstr.edu> "Partners" (Part 9 of 11) By Beth Hillemann At police headquarters, they booked Graham and set him up with a stenographer for a full confession and deposition against Cameron. Then they went to brief Captain Dobey. Sam listened as Hutch filled the Captain in on the school buses and the setup and Graham's confession. Dobey looked from Sam to Hutch with a great deal of surprise. "How did you manage to put all of that together?" he asked. "Mike thought some things didn't add up about the asylum," Hutch explained. "And he said the school bus scheme was used in Chicago while he was there. The rest just fell into place. Captain, we should raid that bus company right away, and get a warrant out for Cameron. He's bound to miss Graham pretty soon." "Right," Dobey said, reaching for the phone. "And Captain, I'd like to serve the warrant myself," Hutch suggested. Still with the receiver in his hand, Dobey frowned at Hutch. "I don't think that's such a good idea," he said. "You're too close to this." "Please Captain," Hutch said. He gestured toward Sam, and there was the warmth of spring in his eyes. "Remember, my partner will be with me. We want to do this for Starsky." Dobey considered Hutch, then nodded. "All right," he said gruffly. "Let me get it all set up. You can deliver the warrant when I call you from the raid." "Thanks, Captain," Hutch said sincerely. He and Sam left the office. "Why didn't you tell him about Starsky?" Sam asked Hutch softly. "With Graham's confession he'd have believed you." "Cameron still has him," Hutch answered grimly. "I'm not setting up a hostage situation--Cameron would kill him." He glanced at Sam, measuringly. "We'll have to play this carefully to get him out. Are you sure you want in?" "Just _try_ to exclude me this time," Sam threatened. Slowly, Hutch grinned at him, and Sam saw a light in his eyes that hadn't been there since he had known him. A few hours later, as the sun was setting in a late summer day, Sam and Hutch (and Al) sat in Sam's car near the entrance to Cameron's estate. The house was southwestern in style, two stories of white adobe, with a gently sloping tiled roof. A wall ran around the grounds, with an iron gate at the entrance. They were waiting for official word on the drug raid before going in. "You realize," Sam said, breaking the silence, "when you serve that warrant he'll hold Starsky to your head like a gun." Hutch nodded. "Why don't you let me serve the warrant," Sam suggested. "No," Hutch said. "You're going to be my ace. If I go in, I'll be able to keep him talking about his plans for me and Starsky. He won't be able to resist. Meanwhile _you're_ going in the back and getting to Starsky." For all the uncertainty of the situation, Hutch seemed at peace with himself. Maybe, Sam reflected, because he could finally _act_. "It's risky," Sam said. "Graham thought there were only two men there with Cameron today, but he could easily be wrong." "We'll just have to handle it," Hutch said. >From the back seat Sam heard Al sigh, and start to fiddle irritably with the handlink. "I'll be careful," Sam said to the hologram. "Me too," Hutch concurred. He sighed, his expression turning rueful. "And when I see Starsky, I'm going to kill him." "What?" Sam overplayed the astonishment. Hutch, with a smile hiding in his eyes, nodded. "You bet. How'd he let himself get knocked unconscious in the first place? Putting me through all this." "Well," Sam suggested drily. "I woulnd't tell him about that locked room, then." "Ah. Good idea," Hutch nodded. He fell silent, staring out the window at Cameron's estate. Sam glanced at him. "Penny," he said. "What?" Hutch raised his eyebrows. "For your thoughts," Sam explained. "Oh. I was just thinking about the past--about the time he found me when I was the one missing." "When were you missing?" Sam asked curiously, knowing who the "he" was. "Some months ago, a hit man knocked me off the road. I was trapped under my car for two days and no one knew where I was. I thought I was going to die. Do you know what kept me going?" "Sheer stubbornness?" Sam hazarded. A grin touched Hutch's lips. "Naturally. But also, I knew Starsky was looking for me. And I wasn't going to have him find me dead." >From the back seat Al complained, "Hit men, crazy revenge schemes. What is it with these guys?" The radio suddenly sprang to life, "Zebra 3, come in." Hutch reached for the microphone. "This is Zebra 3, over." "Hutch, this is Dobey. The raid's on and we found the jackpot. Go on in and get the bastard." "Roger, Captain, over and out." Hutch looked at Sam. "Let's go," he said. To make it appear that Hutch was alone, Sam traveled through the front gates of the estate in the trunk of his own car. Al seemed to find this very amusing, and enjoyed himself hugely by popping his head in periodically to talk to Sam. "All comfy?" he asked solicitously, one of those times. "So help me Al," Sam threatened, as he tried to ease the ache in his joints. "How close are we?" Al disappeared, then reappeared. "Almost there," he said. And indeed, Sam felt the car glide to a stop. He heard voices, then the sound of a slamming door and feet crunching on gravel. "Let me know when I can get out," Sam said to Al. "Now's fine," Al said in reply. "No one's here. One nozzle came out to escort Hutch in, but now the coast is clear." Sam eased out of the trunk, and used the cover of the car and then various conveniently placed bushes to skirt around the house to the back. He scanned the building, picking out the barred window. Al followed along with him. "I already checked and the back door is locked," he told Sam, all business. "But you can get up to the second story balcony with that tree over there, and the window on this side is unlocked." "When did you have time to check all of this out?" Sam asked. "When you were playing least-in-sight in the trunk," Al replied. "You'd better get going, Sam." "Yeah, okay." "And be careful," Al told him gruffly. Sam paused and looked back at Al. "I'll be all right," he assured his friend. "Don't worry." "Why should I worry?" Al demanded, hiding his feelings in bravado. Sam just smiled and headed for the tree. As Al had promised, it was easy to get to the balcony and the window was open. Sam quietly went through the bedroom. Al popped in before he reached the door. "There's a guy coming up the stairs with a dinner tray," Al informed him. "And I checked on Starsky. He's in that room at the end of the hall, with one nozzle guard in there with him. Armed. You can get the guy with the tray as he goes by, but try not to make enough noise to get the guard's attention." Sam nodded. "Tell me when he goes by, _after_ delivering the tray." Al stood, half-in and half-out of the room, as Sam eased the door slightly open. Sam heard the footsteps of the tray-bearer and then the sound of voices. Then he heard the footsteps returning. "Now Sam!" Al called. Sam lunged out of the room, catching the man by surprise, and delivered a quick blow that knocked the man out as quietly as Al could have wished. Unfortunately, Al hadn't taken into account that there might be a third man in the bathroom on that floor. He came out just as Sam was pulling the first man into the bedroom. "Hey!" the new man yelled and charged into Sam. They wrestled, crashing into the doorway of the bedroom, then out into the hallway. Finally Sam managed to break free and launched a kick that knocked the guy flat, and out. "Sam! Look out!" Al shouted. Sam looked up to see a guard at the end of the hallway facing him, with his gun drawn and pointed. The hole of the barrel looked very big and very deadly to Sam, and for once time seemed to stop, completely. *** Hutch followed the man who had met him to a room on the ground floor of the house. The room was obviously a study, with bookshelves on either side of a window, across from the door. A couch was placed along the wall to his left and a large mahogany desk lay along the wall to his right. Cameron, sitting behind the desk, looked up as Hutch entered. "Well, well," he said, "my favorite police detective! And to what do I owe this pleasure?" Hutch pulled out the warrant. "I told you we'd get you Cameron," he said, laying the paper on the desk. Cameron raised his eyebrows and reached for the paper. "It's a warrant for my arrest, Bergie," Cameron said to the man escorting Hutch. "For dealing drugs, it says. How interesting." He let the paper slip back to the desk and sat back in his chair. "No doubt a misunderstanding," he said carelessly. "We'll have it cleared up in short order." "Not this time," Hutch shook his head. "We've got a full confession from Graham. And he's willing to testify against you." Hutch watched with pleasure as Cameron registered some shock at that announcement. "We're raiding your school bus center at this very moment. Your operation is collapsing all around you, Cameron." "I always knew Graham was a weak link," Cameron said thoughtfully. "I didn't think he was this stupid, however." "We've got you, Cameron," Hutch said with satisfaction. "Oh, I woulnd't go so far as to say that," Cameron countered. "You may have interfered with my operation here; I may even need to relocate. But you hardly have _me_." Cameron stretched out a hand toward his desk drawer. "In fact," he said, "it would be far more accurate to say _I_ have _you_." "I don't know what you're talking about, Cameron," Hutch said, eyeing the hand reaching toward the drawer. He drew his gun. "Keep your hands in sight," he ordered. Cameron held up both hands in a placating gesture. "I'm not reaching for a gun," he assured Hutch. "Speaking of guns," Hutch said, and he gestured meaningfully at the man Bergie. "Go ahead, Bergie, show him our good faith," Cameron smiled. The assurance was back in his manner. Reluctantly Bergie handed over a large handgun, placing it on the desk between Hutch and Cameron. "May I?" Cameron asked, gesturing toward the drawer again. Hutch nodded, watching warily as Cameron reached into the drawer and pulled out a photograph. He laid it on the desk. "Take a look," he invited Hutch. Hutch looked, and saw Starsky, glaring defiantly at someone out of camera range. He was wearing the same clothes he had been that night--jeans and a dark blue sweatshirt. Beside him was a copy of today's newspaper. Hutch drew his breath in sharply as he saw the condition Starsky was in. Both eyes were blackened and swollen, with a terrible cut and bruise on his brow above his left eye. His jaw, too, was bruised and swollen out of shape. Hutch looked up at Cameron, through a red haze, and almost the man flinched from what he read in Hutch's face. But then Cameron smiled, well-pleased. "Yes," he said with barely suppressed glee. "I have him. I've had him all this time. And I've made him pay for what you did to my brother." "I'll kill you," Hutch said in a deadly voice. He raised the gun and pointed it at Cameron. "Where is he?" Cameron leaned back again in his chair. "What will you do?" he asked. "Shoot me? My men have orders to kill Starsky at the first sound of a shot. There's a guard in his room right now. Go ahead--kill your partner. As surely as if you had pulled the trigger yourself." Hutch reluctantly lowered, then holstered his gun. "What do you want, Cameron?" Hutch asked levelly. "What do I want?" hissed Cameron. "What do I _want_? I want to kill you. But first I want you to suffer, as I suffered. I lost a brother, so you lose a partner. Mind you," he continued, "this worked out rather better than I expected. I didn't think the body would be unidentified, and there would be an investigation with fingers pointing at your 'missing' partner. I was terribly disappointed at first, but as it turned out, this was much better. I watched you, grieving, drinking yourself into a maudlin state, wallowing in guilt. While all the time he was here, praying for you to come, and you didn't even know it." "If it's me you want," Hutch said, still in that carefully controlled voice, "you can have me. But you'll let Starsky go first." Cameron smiled with great joy. "I knew you'd say that," he confided. "Of course you'd say that. That's why this is going to be so very satisfying. You'd do anything to keep him alive, wouldn't you? But you're going to watch him die. Knowing it's your fault that he's dying. And the only thing that will make it somewhat bearable, I imagine, is knowing that you won't have to live long with the guilt." Hutch lunged, not toward Cameron, but at Bergie standing to the side behind him. Once he had the bodyguard out of the way he would deal with Cameron. Bergie, startled, fell to the floor under Hutch's assault, but he managed to grab hold of Hutch, dragging him down with him. They rolled back and forth, struggling to take advantage, both landing blows with their fists. Bergie was the heavier and he used his weight to pull Hutch around, lifting and then slamming him to the floor. Hutch, momentarily stunned, felt Bergie's hands pulling at his holster. Sudden fear galvanized him and he rolled up just as Bergie freed the gun and staggered to his feet. In desperation Hutch grabbed Bergie's arm with his left, while using his leg to hook the bodyguard's legs out from beneath him. Bergie fell and Hutch followed through, slamming his right fist full into the guard's face. Bergie collapsed in a heap, and Hutch was left holding tightly onto the gun. He breathed deeply for a moment, then twisted around to look for Cameron. Cameron stood by the desk, smiling sweetly, madly. He held Bergie's gun in his hand, pointed toward the ceiling. "Say goodbye," he said, and fired the gun into the air. Hutch stared, too shocked to move. And from upstairs came the sound of a single gunshot. --End of Part 9-- Beth Hillemann hillemann@macalstr.edu