How Many Miracles . . .

And, as always, I owe a majorly large debt of gratitude to my Ever-Wonderful Beta, Lady Cat the Anonymous, without whom this story wouldn't have reached the level of sophistication it now enjoys. ;)

Complete And Total Fantasy
How Many Miracles . . .
By Rose O’ Sharon

Starsky groaned and shifted, only to find himself stilled by hands that trembled slightly, and he opened his eyes, only to realize he couldn’t see anything at all, and panicked.

"Take it easy, buddy,” the choked voice of Hutch entered his consciousness and he inhaled deeply.

"Wha’ . . .what hap'ned? I . . .I can‘t see anything. Am . . . Am I blind?" Starsky asked, his voice still panicked, but kind of glad he wasn’t alone, and he heard hutch’s lips smack together as he licked his lips nervously.

"I . . . I can’t see anything either, but . . . but I don’t think we’re physically blind, though I can’t really know for sure," the taller, blond man’s voice was semi-calm, but Starsky felt his hand tremble as he smoothed, or attempted to smooth, the unruly dark curls. "As to what happened, well, I’m not really sure, and I know even less about where we are. The last thing I remember, is being at home getting ready for bed. I got really dizzy and passed out. At least, I assume I passed out, because when I woke up I found myself in this . . .place and immediately started looking for you . . . "

"Same story as me -- without the waking part o’ course." Starsky felt his own body as it trembled with a deep weariness that he knew was a leftover from the drug in his system, and he leaned into the comfor of his partner.

"Starsky . . ." Fear sounded in Hutch's voice and Starsky looked at him the only way he could; he felt his face. "I need you to feel . . . feel the crook of your arm.”

“Okay,“ he said, and did as he was requested. He frowned as he felt a small, raised mark. “I feel a bump . . . like an injection mark of some sort."

“I know. I’ve got one too,” Hutch's voice ground down to almost a whisper and Starsky felt his arm as well, and sighed as he realized that even though it had been over a year since Hutch had been kidnapped and forcefully addicted to heroine, he was still terrified of it happening again. “They . . . they gave us something. Even after they gassed us."

"Aw crap, Hutch,” Starsky ran a hand over his face. "What the hell is going on here?”

As if on cue, they heard a small click, and a disembodied male voice sounded in the darkness and echoed hollowly in whatever hell they’d been placed in. "Welcome, gentlemen. By now you both should be awake and, being the above average intelligent detectives you are, or at least, one of you is, you will have noticed the injection marks. As you probably have surmised, and correctly, I might add, there is something foreign going through your bloodstream even as we speak. That something is poison, gentlemen, and it‘s a not very nice strain that I have developed on my very own and in my very own lab."

"Who are you?!" Starsky suddenly hollered into the air. "Why . . . " He didn't get to finish his question as the voice went on.

"But, you see, being as I am a very warped and twisted individual, only one of you carries the actual poison. The other carries only a harmless vitamin shot. Whichever one that got that will get to watch the other die slowly over the next hour, maybe hour and a half, if you’re lucky, and then the other will die of thirst and starvation much later, and all in the company of your partner's body. Oh yes, and please do not think you will be rescued any time soon, as you are buried several feet underground in an abandoned oil storage tank, and I will be miles away, never to be heard from in this city again," the voice laughed maniacally.

"Damn it! Why are you doing this to us?!" Starsky yelled, and the voice went on.

"You are probably now wondering who I am and why I'm doing this. The answer, gentlemen, is quite simple. I am an assassin who was hired to kill you. It seems that you have both pissed off quite a number of people – very influential people. People who put out a lot of money to assure your deaths."

"You won't get away with this, you bastard!" Starsky shouted, but Hutch placed a hand on his friend's arm.

"Never mind, Starsky," he shook his head. "He's not going to hear you."

"What are you talkin’ about?" Starsky scowled into the darkness.

"It's a recording, Starsk. There's some static behind the words and if you listen closely, you’ll hear a click before it comes back on . . . " No sooner had he spoken than a soft click sounded and the man started again. "I did leave you gentlemen a small flashlight and there's an equally small pipe that goes outside for air, but seeing as it's not very big, I'm afraid it'll fill with mud if it rains. However, these are the chances you take when you become one of the 'good' guys. Well, I shall let you alone now to wonder who's going to die first." An insane giggle sounded and there was a click and the tank was filled with silence.