The
Price of a Life
Chapter Five
Cal quickly scrambled down from his hiding place, safely tucked away in the recessed corner of the closet’s shelf. He’d been afraid when Fitzwallace had first shone his flashlight in, and relieved when he’d neglected to aim it upwards toward the shelf. The teen set down the desk drawer he had used to strike the felon with, then gratefully fell into his mother’s embrace.
“You did real good, Cal. I’m proud of you.” Edith picked up Fitzwallace’s fallen pistol and snapped on the safety before tucking it into the waistband of her skirt. She turned to her children. Rosie’s eyes were huge, and she shook from fear and fatigue. Cal didn’t look much better. Edith dropped to one knee and took a hand of each child. “Now listen to me. We’ve still got to get out of here. We’re going to have to go quickly and quietly. If I tell either one of you to do something, then I need you to do it right that second, do you understand? Don’t hesitate, don’t ask any questions; just do it. And whatever happens, I want the two of you to stay together. Rosie, you mind your brother, and Cal, I need you to take care of her. You both understand me?”
“But, Mom, what about you?” Cal asked, gripping her hand.
“I’ll be fine, but we might need to split up. I hope not, but if it happens, you two stay together. Promise me?” At their hesitant nods, Edith stood and led them to the door. Peering out into the sunshine, she determined there was no one in the immediate area. Edith gave the children a fleeting smile, then placed a finger to her lips to remind them of the need for stealth. Drawing a shaky breath, she drew her gun and led her children outside.
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Starsky growled as he jerked the sedan around a slower moving semi, then floored the car past the rig. Oncoming traffic was forced to slow and pull off the shoulder, followed by a cavalcade of honking, shouts, and hand gestures. Hutch merely gritted his teeth and clutched the dashboard tighter, hoping they’d make it to the pier before the captain, and in one piece.
The final twenty minutes of the journey seemed to take an eternity, and more than once Hutch had to flash his badge as a patrol car caught up to them, gesturing for the speeding car to pull over.
When Starsky and Hutch reached Pier 37, a friend of Huggy’s was waiting for them as promised. The grizzled fisherman was the manifestation of the legendary “Old Man and the Sea,” but the partners would scarcely have noticed if he’d been a mermaid. The two scrambled down the ladder off the dock to the proffered skiff. Hutch took the rudder, leaving Starsky to clutch either side of the craft as it skipped across the waves toward Pier 38.
˜ ™
Andrews stepped off the sixty-foot schooner with a sense of satisfaction. Everything was falling back into place after the first fiasco when they’d lost Dobey. Now the ante had been upped, and three million dollars would set him up very nicely in Europe. He again went through his mental checklist, assuring himself that he had collected everything necessary, right down to the boards, hammers, and nails that would secure Dobey and his family into the fueling office. Andrews smiled at the thought of including Starsky, Hutchinson, and any other cop or agent who got in the way, along with enough plastic explosives to obliterate the small building and everything in it. By the time the Coast Guard responded from their branch office four piers down, Andrews and his men would be at sea, en route to meet Huessman, their contact, twenty miles off the coast.
Andrews’ brow knit in a moment of concern. Timing was critical on many levels. Dobey had to show up on time. Even then, the explosion that would exact his revenge could only be savored from afar, or they would miss the precious window of opportunity to be picked up by Huessman—the foreigner had made the need for timeliness perfectly clear. If Andrews literally missed the boat, Huessman and his “organization” wouldn’t offer a second chance. Once they reached shore in Seattle, a private jet would take them into Canada, where they would obtain their new identities. Then, it was a clear shot to Germany and a whole new life among other Aryans with the same mindset and goals as Andrews and his men.
Yes, Andrews affirmed to himself. Three million dollars would go a long way in contributing toward the “New Order.”
˜ ™
Captain Dobey drew a deep breath as he slammed home the ammunition clip, then tucked the pistol into the holster hidden by his coat. He grimaced in pain; his injured shoulder hadn’t stopped throbbing since the injury occurred, adding nausea to his blinding headache. As he climbed out of the Mustang onto the pier, the duffel bag containing the price of his family in tow, he knew his pain would end in the next hour—one way or the other.
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In spite of the slime and algae clinging to the rungs, Starsky and Hutch swiftly climbed up the boat ladder on the south end of Pier 38. Silent hand signals sent each detective in a different direction with the intent of circling the area and meeting on the opposite side near the west entry. Before they lost sight of each other, both men paused to look back. No words or further signals passed between them, but the message was clear: Be careful, partner.
˜ ™
Edith, Cal, and Rosie had only made it several yards from the fueling station before they were set upon, Andrews and five of his men rushing them from behind. The cocking of a pistol stopped Edith in her tracks, and she dropped the handgun when ordered to. As she and the children slowly turned to face their captors, Edith’s eyes darted around them, desperately seeking an escape route.
“You’d never get very¾” Andrews didn’t have the opportunity to finish his gloating statement before Edith launched herself at him and shouted for her children to run. Two other men quickly subdued her, but her distraction was enough to put the children in motion. Cal hesitated only a second before he grabbed Rosie’s hand and pulled her, running away from the encounter. At her faltering steps, Cal scooped up his sister and poured his heart into their flight. As fast as he was, carrying Rosie made him easy game for his pursuers. Pipmeir quickly caught up to them and jerked Cal to a stop by grabbing him by his shirt collar. Rosie was dropped to the ground when Cal threw himself at the bigger man, striking him for all he was worth. Pipmeir thrust the boy away, and a fierce backhand drove Cal to the ground where he lay unmoving.
Rosie’s scream reverberated throughout the wharf.
˜ ™
Hutch continued his crouching run, darting between six-foot-high crates and steel containers twice as high. But at the sound of Rosie’s scream, he changed direction back toward the water.
As he prepared to make a dash across an open aisle, he first peered around the edge of the crate he’d been hiding behind—straight into the barrel of a .38 Special.
˜ ™
Starsky’s head came up at the sound of
Rosie’s scream like a wolf catching a scent.
As much as he wanted to race straight toward the source of the cry,
Starsky pushed himself into a ducking jog and continued farther north along the
waterfront.
˜ ™
Lieutenant John Vestman hung up the phone, the call confirming that his manifests were right. There were no scheduled shipments in or out of Pier 38, just as his log had read. Actually, no freight had been moved from that particular dock even after the quarantine had been lifted earlier in the week, the result of some contaminated fruit shipped in from Mexico. So what was that schooner doing at 38?
Locking the door behind him, the Coast Guard officer made his way to his speedboat and shoved off.
˜ ™
“Hutch!” the captain hissed as he leaned unsteadily against
the crate, lowering his weapon. Hutch
exhaled gratefully, realizing how close he’d come to eating a bullet. Still, even in his relief he didn’t fail to
notice the tremor in Dobey’s hand and the grayness of his face.
Anger and relief played across Dobey’s features. “Where’s Starsky?”
Hutch couldn’t bring himself to look guilty for disobeying orders—again. “Captain, we¾”
“Never mind. Look, I’m going to meet Andrews and give him the money. Whatever you two or Sanderson’s men have cooked up, don’t interfere with this until my family is safe, understand?”
Hutch was wounded by the implication that they would further jeopardize Edith and the kids, but he simply nodded.
“Okay then.” Dobey stiffly replaced the gun and adjusted the duffel bag strap across his shoulder. He opened his mouth to speak, but changed his mind and resolutely continued toward the small fueling station office—the drop-off point for the ransom.
Hutch waited until his superior was out of sight, then continued his headlong flight toward the docks.
˜ ™
Pipmeir was surprised to have a hard time controlling Rosie. When the large man struck her brother, knocking him senseless, the little girl erupted into a flurry of punches and kicks. Pipmeir grabbed her by one arm, and Rosie raged against him. He attempted to pick up Cal, but almost lost his grip on the girl and decided to simply take her back to Andrews, then come back for the boy. While her blows didn’t hurt him, it was enough to trip him up more than once as he dragged her back to the small building.
“Momma!” Pipmeir released the squirming girl, knowing she’d run straight to her mother. Edith clutched her daughter to her chest.
“Where’s the boy?” Andrews demanded.
Pipmeir raised his hands in a gesture of acquiescence. “I’ll get him, I’ll get him. The girl was a handful. He’s out cold, anyway.”
“What did you do to my son?”
Pipmeir ignored Edith’s question and backtracked to where he’d knocked Cal out. He was surprised to find him gone, but was even more surprised when he turned around and received a solid blow across his jaw.
Before the man had a chance to recover, Cal struck him again with the board from a broken crate. He missed Pipmeir’s head, though, and struck him across the shoulder. Enraged, Pipmeir grabbed the makeshift weapon when it was swung at him a third time, and yanked it out of Cal’s hands. Before he had a chance to use it on the youth, the cold muzzle of a gun pressed against his temple stopped him in mid-swing.
“Drop it.” Hutch’s words were as icy as the steel of his weapon. Pipmeir complied and slowly raised his hands.
Hutch stepped back, then came around to face the man. His other arm reached for Cal, who gratefully slipped into Hutch’s one-armed embrace.
“You okay, there, pal?” Hutch’s voice gentled, but he never took his eyes off his captive.
“I’m all right, Hutch, but we need to find my mom and Rosie.” Cal’s voice shook. “Is my dad okay?”
Hutch nodded. “I saw him just a minute ago, he’ll be fine.” Hutch’s eyes narrowed as he dropped his arm from around Cal and advanced on the felon. “I’m only going to say this once, so listen up, dirtbag. You’re going to take us to where you’re keeping the others. If you make one move that I don’t like, I won’t hesitate to put a hole in you the size of a Volkswagen, understand?”
The frost in Hutch’s voice was more than enough to convince Pipmeir. He nodded, swallowing. “Gotcha.”
Hutch pulled out his radio and called for Sanderson. “It looks like high noon is about to start.”
The static of the radio was broken by a determined response. “We’ll be ready!”
Hutch turned down the volume and stuck the radio back on his belt. He then waved his Python in the felon’s face.
“Okay, move.”
˜ ™
Guns were drawn and leveled at Dobey as he stepped into view, the duffel bag held painfully in one hand, while his pistol was aimed directly at Andrews.
“Harold!” Edith tried to break free from her captor’s grip, but she was quickly hauled back, as was Rosie.
Her husband swallowed down his fear for his family. “Are you all right, sweetheart? Rosie?”
At her father’s concern, Rosie began to cry in earnest, pleading for her daddy to come to her. The captain hadn’t thought it was possible for his heart to break further.
“Rosie, honey, come on now. Don’t cry, baby. This will all be over soon, I promise.” Dobey’s gaze swung up to meet Andrews with murderous intent.
Andrews laughed. “What are you going to do, Dobey? Take on all of us?”
The captain shook his head without taking his eyes off the blond man. “I never figured I’d walk out of here, but if nothing else, I’ll die knowing that I sent you to Hell first.”
Andrews laughed again, but this time it rang hollow. He pulled out a two-way radio and barked into it. “Curtis?”
Static responded, then a voice. “It’s clear. He came alone.”
Dobey felt the knot in his chest loosen slightly. Somehow, Starsky and Hutchinson had managed to elude them. He only hoped that when Sanderson and the federal boys showed up—and he was sure they would—they wouldn’t blow it.
Andrews looked around the group. “Where’s Pipmeir and the boy? We’re running out of time!”
“Here.” Pipmeir stepped into the open, but didn’t move toward the group. Cal rushed past him to his father’s side.
Andrews smiled and nodded. “Well, let’s get to it then. Dobey, give me the money.”
“No.”
“No?” The former officer instantly blazed. “You think you’re gonna call the shots here?”
Dobey remained deadly calm. “Edith and Rosie first, then you’ll get your money.”
Andrews rolled his eyes, knowing the outcome would be the same. “Whatever. O’Neill.”
O’Neill took Edith and Rosie each by the arm and led them halfway to where Dobey and Cal stood. Andrews nodded in satisfaction. “Okay, now you.”
Dobey took a step forward, but when he realized Cal had moved with him, he glanced at his son. “No, Cal.”
The teen gritted his teeth, but did as he was directed. His father continued forward until he was a few feet away from Edith and Rosie. For a moment, the pier was strangely quiet.
“The money!” Andrews barked.
Dobey painfully extended the duffel bag, and O’Neill reached for it. Again, there was silence as if the entire group collectively held their breaths during the exchange.
The sound of an approaching speedboat shattered the silence.
The pier instantly erupted. O’Neill snatched the bag out of Dobey’s grip, then slammed it across the captain’s head, knocking him off balance. The felon took advantage of the moment and wrenched Dobey’s pistol out of his hand. Edith charged O’Neill, but the larger man felled her with the butt of his gun across her temple.
Hutch burst into the clearing, but his bead on Andrews was blocked when the ex-patrolman rushed forward and snatched up Rosie, clutching the squirming child to his chest. Hatred burned in his eyes as he backed away, a pistol crammed under her jaw.
“Don’t do it, Andrews!” Hutch aimed his Python directly toward the other’s head.
“Hutchinson! I should’ve known you and your partner would show up! Stand down!” Andrews didn’t push things further when Hutch lowered his weapon but refused to drop it. “Where’s the kike?”
Hutch thought quickly, ignoring the sidelong look from their captain. “Hung over. He’s home, throwing up his guts.”
Andrews’ focus swung over to Dobey. The captain was helping Edith as she staggered to her feet, his gaze murderous as he watched Andrews and his men regroup. The bewildered Coast Guard lieutenant stood in his speedboat with his arms upraised, Fitzwallace’s gun holding him at bay.
Andrews’ grasp on Rosie caused her to wince in pain, her breaths coming in rapid, shallow gasps.
“So help me, Andrews, if you hurt her—”
“You’ll what, Dobey? Arrest me? Shoot me? No, I don’t think there’s a thing you can do at this point. Besides, why would I want to hurt such a sweet little thing?” Andrews’ voice took on a sickeningly sweet tone as the hand that clutched Rosie’s arm slid slowly across her chest.
“You bastard!” Dobey broke free of Edith’s grip and took several tottering steps toward Andrews. The sound of pistols being cocked didn’t stop him.
“One more step and you’re all dead, Dobey.” Andrews’ words came as a soft hiss. The captain stopped, trembling with rage. Hutch and Cal stood at either shoulder. “No, your little girl will be safe...for now.”
“No! You’ve got your money. You’ve got me. That’s what you wanted all along,
Andrews.” Dobey choked out the last
words with deadly force. “Let her go.”
“Not yet. She’s my little insurance policy, isn’t she?” Andrews jerked his head backward toward a boat moored right off the pier. “We’re going for a little ride.”
O’Neill sidled up to Andrews. “What are you doing? This isn’t part of the plan. Just stick them in the office and we’ll be done with them.”
“There’s no time!” Andrews snapped back, frustrated with the change. Still, he was no fool—he needed the girl as a guarantee. Thinking quickly, he formulated a plan that would still get them out to meet Huessman in time, and still allow him to exact his revenge.
Andrews jerked his head toward the lieutenant. “In an hour, I’ll call you on the Coast Guard’s frequency four. You’d better be here on the dock. Then you and your little entourage will take the skipper’s boat here and meet me at the coordinates I give you.” Andrews jerked his head again toward the schooner. Dragging a protesting Rosie with him, the group made their way toward the gangplank.
“No!” Edith tried to break away, but her son held her back.
“What guarantee do I have that you won’t hurt her?” Dobey growled.
“Absolutely none. But what choice do you have, nigger?”
Hutch was still during the exchange, but far from idle. Blue eyes scanned the docks and boats, looking for opportunities and his missing partner. A flash of color caught his eye, as a familiar mop of curls ducked behind a crate near the dock. Starsky was out of view from the others, but Hutch was able to catch a glimpse of him as he quickly made his way to the stern of the large boat. He was too far away for Hutch to lock his gaze with his partner, but the brunet gestured his intent and gave Hutch a small wave. Hutch controlled his expression. He didn’t like Starsky’s plan one bit, but knew they were out of options. Almost imperceptibly, he nodded back.
˜ ™
Starsky knew he didn’t have much time before Andrews and his squad would get on board the schooner—aptly named “Stingray”—so he moved as quickly and quietly as possible. The second gangplank was not an option, as it was within sight of the group. Grasping the docking rope closest to the boat’s stern, he swung himself out over the water and pulled his legs up to hook his ankles around it. Methodically, he pulled himself hand-over-hand to the gently swaying boat. His mind raced, feverishly devising a plan to get Rosie away from Andrews. When he reached the side, he pulled himself onto the deck and scurried to find the best cover he could until Andrews and his men could join the party.
˜ ™
Andrews backed up the gangplank, both arms firmly clutching Rosie. Only once his men were on board and the engine brought to life, did he release the trembling girl. The boat pulled steadily away from its moorings and quickly began its trek to open sea.
“What are we waiting for?” Cal hollered to his parents, grasping Hutch by the arm in an attempt to drag him toward the Coast Guard craft.
Hutch tried to calm the frantic young man. “No, Cal, not yet. Andrews told us to wait, and if we don’t at least hold off until they’re out of sight, then we don’t¾”
“Don’t what? You think we can deal with him? ‘You can’t deal with a terrorist,’ isn’t that what you always say, Dad? Isn’t it? What are we waiting for? You know what he’s gonna do to her! He’s¾” Cal’s tirade turned into choking tears, the events of the last several days catching up with him.
Edith’s last thread of control began to crumble as well as she reached out to her son. “Harold, what chance do we have?”
Hutch picked up his gun from where he had tossed it earlier. “We’ve got a good one, Edith. Starsky’s on board, too.” The woman’s head jerked up to meet his gaze. “Don’t give up yet.”
A small nod came from Edith before she burrowed her head back against her son’s shoulder. Hutch gave his captain’s arm a squeeze before he ran to meet the Coast Guard lieutenant.
Hutch explained the situation as he radioed back to Sanderson. The FBI agent’s next call was to issue helicopters and watercrafts to aid in the final rescue.
During the brief exchange, Captain Dobey never moved nor acknowledged Hutch. He simply stood staring at the departing boat, praying his last vision of his daughter wouldn’t be of her standing at the boat’s rails, tears streaming down her frightened little face.
˜ ™
“What’d you do with the brat, Pip?”
Pipmeir continued looking through his binoculars toward the shore to make sure the Coast Guard vessel hadn’t left port yet, or they were being followed by anyone else.
“Nothing. I just left her on deck. She ain’t got anywhere to go.”
“Now what, Andrews?” O’Neill asked as he steered the Stingray out into the choppy Pacific waters.
“Now, we wait. I’ll call Dobey like I said, give him the coordinates, then wait for them to come get his kid.”
“After all this, you’re going to let them go, just like that?”
“Don’t be a fool, O’Neill. Dobey’s going to pay for what he did to me. Ain’t that right, Curtis?”
“You got it.” Curtis entered the cabin carrying a large wooden box and gently set it down.
“What’s that?” Pipmeir asked, momentarily taking his eyes off the rolling waters.
“A little surprise for Dobey. Once he hooks up with us, we take the kid and leave in the Coast Guard’s cruiser to meet Huessman as planned. We can still use the brat for insurance against the Feds, or whoever else tails us. In the meantime, Curtis here will have disabled the engine and radio to give us a good head start. That’ll give Dobey and his family, oh, about ten minutes to say goodbye to one another before this tub blows sky high.”
˜ ™
Fresh tears began to run down Rosie’s face when she heard Andrews’ plans. Clutching the rail, she made her way to the boat’s stern. She knew there was nowhere to go, and that jumping overboard would be useless. Still, she wanted to put as much distance between herself and her captors as she could. At least, she reasoned, she could warn her daddy about the bomb and he would save them. Then everything would be okay, she hoped. Rosie wandered down to a raised hatch and sat down. A noise from behind some crates was barely audible above the breaking swells. Rosie spun around toward the source, ready to scream or run, but there was no need.
“Uncle Dave!”
Starsky hoped the roar of the engines and pounding water would override her cry, but he still raised a finger to his lips. Rosie flung herself into his waiting arms, where he held her tightly for a moment, grateful that she seemed unhurt. Starsky gently pried her away and held her at arm’s length. His initial thoughts had been to somehow overtake Andrews and his men, but there were far too many of them, and Rosie’s safety was his first priority. The best thing he could do was to get her off the ship.
“Here’s the plan—your dad and Hutch won’t be too far behind us. So we’re gonna put on these life jackets I found and slip over the side, slick as you please. They’ll never even know you’re gone, and as soon as your dad and Hutch get here, we’re home free, okay?”
“Okay!”
Starsky holstered his gun and helped Rosie into a life vest far too large for her. He secured the long ties as best he could, confident that they’d hold when she hit the water. He was just slipping his left hand through the armhole of his own vest when the familiar sound of a hammer cocking froze him. Starsky only spared O’Neill a glance before he pulled Rosie behind him and out of harm’s way. He never saw his assailant smile as his finger tightened on the trigger. The bullet caught Starsky high on his left shoulder and spun him around, face down on the deck. Unconsciousness engulfed him, and he never felt his face slam onto the wood flooring.
“No!” Rosie screamed, throwing herself on Starsky’s prone form. She grasped the back of his shirt in her small hands and began tugging at him, urging him to get up. “Uncle Dave, Uncle Dave, please...please...don’t leave me here alone. Uncle Dave don’t die...please.”
O’Neill grabbed Rosie by her pigtail and jerked her to her feet. Reaching down to Starsky’s still body, he tore the Beretta out of its holster and shoved it into his own waistband, then began clawing at Rosie’s life vest’s straps to remove it. Finally free, Rosie returned to Starsky’s side. O’Neill grabbed the other vest that had fallen off Starsky as he went down. Flipping the unconscious detective onto his back, he placed his heel on the bleeding shoulder, then sighted his gun between Starsky’s eyes. Rosie fought to control her sobs.
“Please, please...I’ll be good. Don’t hurt him anymore...please.”
Whether moved by Rosie’s tears, or simply overconfident, O’Neill holstered his gun. “Yeah, you ain’t goin’ anywhere.” Giving Starsky’s bleeding shoulder a final shove, O’Neill flung the vests over the side of the boat and headed back to the cabin.
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