Dahn Tu

The Blintz

 

 

 

Chapter Two

 

The next few minutes were pure hell.  As I focused on the radio transmitter, I heard the sounds of Hutch going into the store and a brief exchange between him and Chastain.  From what I could tell, the hostages were in the back of the store in the vault, and Joe led Hutch to them, reminding him with every step there was a loaded gun pointed at his head and he’d better not try anything. 

 

I’d just heard Chastain holler out to his hostages to stand back so he could open the door, and I even heard the faint noise of a door being opened, when all hell broke loose.  There was a loud crash, a lot of cursing, a single gunshot, and then a woman crying.  I heard a door being slammed shut, and then the phone beside me rang again.

 

My heart in my throat, I picked up the receiver, but not before I had adjusted the volume on Hutch’s wire to make sure Chastain couldn’t hear it as we were talking.

 

“Starsky.”

 

“What the hell do you think you’re doin’, cop?”  His voice was high and shrill, and he sounded breathless.  “I ain’t playin’ no games here, pig.  Now you got exactly five minutes to start givin’ me what I want before I start killin’ me some hostages.  You got that?”

 

My palms were suddenly sweaty as I listened for some clue about what had happened to Hutch.  “Hold on a minute, Joe.  What are you talking about?  What’s going on?”

 

“I’ll tell you what’s goin’ on.  You lied to me, pig.  All this jive about you knowing what I’ve been through and understanding how I feel.  Just a bunch of worthless crap.”  He was nearly shouting now and sounded like he was right on the brink of hysteria.

 

“Wait!  Joe, don’t hang up!  Tell me what’s going on.”

 

“That phony doctor you sent in here.  You said I could trust you—”

 

“What about the doctor?  What happened?”  My mouth was suddenly dry, and I could feel my heart thudding in my chest.  There was still no sound from the wire Hutch had worn, and I assumed it had somehow been disconnected.

 

Joe laughed, but it was a maniacal sound that sent chills down my spine.  “My friends in the vault planned a little surprise for me.  They found an empty tray in there, and when I opened the door to let that so-called paramedic in, they tried to attack me.  Luckily, your friend was in the way and they missed.  Too bad he was also in the way when I tried to shoot the stinkin’ clerk who tried to nail me.  Your friend pushed him out of the way and, well, I’m afraid I kinda shot him.” 

 

An ice-cold anger washed over me, and I could feel the blood draining out of my face as I tried to keep it together.  I had to, for Hutch’s sake.  “How bad is it?  Joe?  Did you hear me?  Is he still alive?”

 

“Yeah, cop.  He ain’t gone yet.  And I found the wire.  Let’s just say it’s no longer operational.”

 

My grip on the telephone receiver was almost painful.  “Now you listen to me, Joe.  Don’t add murder to—”

 

“The rules have changed, pig.  I’m getting outta here, and I’m takin’ that phony doctor with me.  If I so much as smell pork, I’m putting him out of his misery.  You understand?  Have them leave a cop car with a full tank out front with the engine running.  And I’m serious.  The first cop car I see, or if anyone tries to stop me, he’s gone.  You understand?”

 

My knees felt weak and I couldn’t seem to stop shaking.  If he was planning to use Hutch as a hostage, hopefully the wound wasn’t critical.  At least not yet.  I had no way of knowing how much blood he’d lost or how close he was to shock, but at least he was still alive.

 

“Joe,” I tried one last time, hoping to get through to him.  “Listen.  If you need a hostage, leave the wounded there, they’ll only slow you down.  Take me instead.  No gun, no wire, just—”  The connection was broken, and I was talking to a dial tone.  I slammed the phone down in frustration and said a quick prayer for Hutch’s safety.

 

Marston was standing close by and had heard my end of the conversation, so I quickly gave him the gist of what was going on.  I had a half-baked plan in mind and I briefed him on that, too, hoping he realized it was just a courtesy to him.  I had already made up my mind, and the only person in the world who could change it once I settled on a course of action was inside the jewelry store with a bullet in him.

 

˜  ™

 

It seemed like hours before I caught my first glimpse of Joe Chastain.  Even though the doctor from the clinic had described his scarring, it still shook me.  The sight of him brought back that chill in my gut that had stayed with me every single day I’d spent in Vietnam.  He walked slowly out into the street, holding Hutch in front of him as a human shield.  At first, I just drank in the sight of my partner, alive and breathing.  There was a bloodstain on his right pants leg, and by the look on his face, he was in a lot of pain, but he was alive.  I willed him to play it cool and hang in there for just a little while longer as I watched Chastain brutally shove him into one of the patrol cars parked in front of the store.  A sharp pain lanced through my jaw, and I realized I was grinding my teeth as what used to be anger turned into rage.

 

As soon as the car took off, Marston began shouting out orders to the patrolmen, commanding them to follow at a distance and keep in contact on Tach Two so Chastain wouldn’t hear their directives.  The captain then ordered a helicopter to tail the patrol car from the air.

 

I ran frantically to the Torino and jumped inside, closing the door and gunning the engine to life in one motion.  I tore off after the patrol car, trying to keep them in sight without letting Chastain know they were being followed.  My plan was simple—I had no plan.  I would tail them as close as I dared without giving myself away, and wait for an opportunity to present itself, even if that meant waiting for the best location to force the patrol car off the road. 

 

There seemed to be no rhyme or reason to the path they took.  Either Chastain had no idea where he was going, or he was hoping to outsmart anyone trying to follow him.  But there was no shaking me off his tail.  I thought he’d spotted me once, and my heart about stopped, but I kept at it.  We eventually left the city limits and made it to a winding mountain road that forced him to slow down as he negotiated the tight curves.  I edged closer to the car, while trying to hang back as much as possible.  I could see that Hutch was slumped against the passenger side window and didn’t appear to be moving.  I hoped like hell that he was playing opossum.  If Hutch was okay, I know he wouldn’t just lay there and let Joe take him away, so I waited for him to make some kinda move.

 

We came to a slightly wider section of road, with a rock wall on the left side and a steep drop-off on the right, and that’s where Hutch finally stopped him.  I saw him pounce on Chastain, grabbing his gun hand, and, while they fought over the weapon, the car skidded against the wall.  Joe managed to push Hutch away, but as he tried to regain control of the vehicle, he overcompensated and fishtailed to the right, coming to a stop just a few feet from the drop-off.  I was right behind him and jumped from my car, my Beretta drawn and leveled.

 

Chastain got out of the car, once again holding Hutch in front of him, his .38 Special pointed at Hutch’s head.

 

“Give it up, Chastain,” I demanded loudly, clicking the safety off my weapon as I got Hutch’s attention. 

 

“I don’t think so, Starsky.  You see, I still have me a hostage here, and if you shoot me, I’m gonna shoot him.  I may die, but so will your friend, and I don’t think you’re willin’ to risk it.”  He tightened his grip on Hutch, who was beginning to sag a little.  I noticed the bloodstain on his pants had grown in size, and his face was pale and sweaty.  But his eyes were clear, and I knew he was watching me to see what he should do next.

 

If nothing else, Joe was strong.  Hutch was held up in front of him like a human shield, and I couldn’t get a clear shot no matter where I looked.  I didn’t want to risk my partner any further, so I changed tactics, biding my time.  The pity I’d felt for Chastain earlier was gone.  As soon as I could shoot without endangering Hutch, he was a dead man.  “Talk to me, Joe.  Why’d you do it?  Money?  Drugs?  Tell me what’s goin’ on with you.  Maybe I can help.  I know people, Joe, people that can help you.”

 

Again, he laughed without humor, and I saw Hutch cringe at the sound.  “Help me?”  I could just see Joe’s right eye peering at me from behind my partner’s head.  “You want to help me?  You saw me coming out of the store.  Not pretty, is it?”

 

I had to agree with him.  His face and arms were nothing but scar tissue, red and painful looking in some places, totally white and colorless in others.  His right hand, the one with the gun, had only three fingers, and even those were bent and twisted.  His left hand was nothing but a stub, the fingers and thumb completely gone.  Even his lips looked unnatural, and when I looked closely at the side of his head that was turned toward me, I could tell he had no ear.  He was right.  It wasn’t pretty, and I couldn’t imagine going through life like that.

 

I was desperate to get this over with, but needed to keep him talking, had to get him to move, even if it was just a few inches, away from Hutch.  “How did it happen, Joe?”

 

“It.  That’s a nice polite way of sayin’ it.  It.”  His bitterness was apparent in every word, every gesture he made.  He shifted from foot to foot, but kept Hutch clenched tightly in front of him.  “I was stationed in the jungle near a small village south of Da Nang.  Our commanding officer thought it was a military outpost for the Viet Cong, and we’d been watching it for days with no sign of soldiers or any other military activity.  But when you’re in the Marines, you don’t think for yourself, you don’t ask questions, you just do.  So when the command came down for us to take the village, that’s what we did.  We attacked just before dawn, but all we found were women and children.  Seems that all the men were out fightin’, and they’d left their families behind to scratch out whatever living they could from the jungles around them.

 

“The kids were starving—they hadn’t eaten in days.  You remember, don’t you?  The swollen bellies and the little stick arms and legs?  Some of us guys had kids at home, you know, so we broke out our rations and started passin’ them around.  There wasn’t nearly enough for everyone, but at least some of those kids got to eat.

 

“That’s when the order came in.  We were to evacuate immediately—they were gonna napalm the village.  We tried to stop it, but the radio connection was already broken and we couldn’t reestablish contact.  So we gathered everyone up and headed into the jungle.”

 

He stopped talking for a minute, and I could tell his breathing sped up as his grip on Hutch got tighter.  Hutch’s eyes bore into mine, confirming my fear that Joe was losing it.  If he would just slip up, just for a second....

 

“Take it easy, Joe,” I said, trying to calm him down some.  But I don’t think he heard me as he just kept on talking.

 

“We were about a half mile from the village when the first planes came by, dumping their liquid hell on the jungle around us.  We picked up the pace a little, trying to get as far away as possible, and I really thought we were gonna make it.  All of a sudden, this little woman behind me just started screaming.  I knew a little Vietnamese, enough to know she was screaming ‘My baby!  My baby!’ over and over, and I finally figured out that one of her kids was missing.  All I could think about was my own two-year-old back home and how I’d feel if she was there, and I had to go back.  I told one of my buddies where I was going, then I turned around and headed back toward the village.”

 

His eyes were far away, and his voice kept cracking as he continued talking through his tightly clenched teeth.  “There’s no way I could ever describe what it was like, running through the jungle with all the smoke and flames...but I finally found the kid.  A little boy, not more than five- or six-years-old.  I heard his screams before I found him.  I guess he must’ve fallen and then was too terrified to move, ’cause he was just laying there on the ground.  He was lit up like a human torch...his skin was actually bubbling under the heat of the napalm that coated nearly every inch of his body.  And the smell.  You ever smell burning flesh?  It gets into your hair and your clothes...no shower in the world can wash it away...”  His voice trailed off and he tightened his grip on Hutch even more.  Any minute now...  “There was nothing I could do—there was nothing anyone could do at that point.  So I raised my rifle to my shoulder and I shot him.  Just like that—I shot and killed a five-year-old kid.”

 

He was openly crying now, but I don’t think he even noticed as he continued, “By the time I made it back to my unit, I had second- and third-degree burns over eighty percent of my body.  They shipped me back to the States and spent a great deal of time telling me how lucky I was, but I didn’t feel too lucky when they put me in those damn whirlpools and peeled the rotting skin from my body.  Or when they took me to surgery and took off all the fingers of my left hand and half my right foot.  By the time they were done, there was nothing left of me but a bunch of scar tissue, and this face that scared my kid so bad that my wife took her away and never let me see her again.

 

“How’s that for luck, Starsky?  You wanna know who was lucky?  That kid I shot.”  As quickly as it had started, his crying stopped.  “He was lucky.  He didn’t have to live the rest of his life as an ugly monster that people stared and pointed at.  He didn’t have to go through his life afraid to stick his head out of his apartment door during the daylight.  He didn’t come back to a country that hated him for what he’d done, even though he did it in the name of freedom.”  He literally spat out the word “freedom” as if it were something poisonous on his tongue.

 

He was quiet now, and so was I.  What could I say?  We stood frozen in place for several seconds, and I made eye contact with Hutch once again.  He seemed even paler than before and his eyes were desperate, haunted.  I knew he and I were on the same level.  This guy was a victim like so many others.  The question was how could we help him when it was down to him or us?

 

“Joe,” I pleaded.  “There are people who can help you.  You just gotta give it a chance.  One more chance, huh?”

 

I saw Chastain bend his head down and whisper something in Hutch’s ear, and then he turned his attention back to me.  “Say goodbye.”

 

It all happened in an instant.  Hutch went boneless and dropped to the ground.  Chastain’s gun went off, the bullet missing Hutch’s head by a hair’s-breadth, but by then I had already reacted.  Hating myself for what I had to do, I pulled the trigger.

 

˜  ™

 

Epilogue 

 

I stood looking out at the night sky through the greenhouse windows and wondered why some things turn out the way they do.  I thought about Joe, about all his suffering and anger, and about a five-year-old kid that didn’t live to see his sixth birthday.  I was trying to make some sense out of it all, but all I could come up with was more questions.  And to be honest, I wasn’t so sure why Joe’s death was bugging me as much as it was.  I mean, the guy had Hutch’s life in his scarred hands.  I’d killed others before under the same circumstances and hardly felt an instant of regret.  Well, that’s not true.  I know the exact number of people I’ve had to kill in the line of duty, and I don’t take that lightly.  But still, every now and then, one of these deaths hit me hard in some unexplainable way.  Joe’s death should have been just one more.

 

I felt him behind me before he even touched my arm.  “I thought you were going to grab us some beer.”

 

“Yeah,” I answered, still lost in my own confusion.  “Just give me a minute, huh?”

 

His hand left my arm, but I knew he was still behind me—I could almost hear him thinking.  “It wasn’t your fault, Starsk.  I can’t help wondering if it was what he wanted.”

 

I turned to look at him.  “What he wanted?  Do you think he wanted to live life as some kind of monster?  Do you think he wanted to be shunned and humiliated by everyone around him?  I can’t imagine the nightmares he must’ve had.  I’ll bet the face of that kid haunted him every single night of his life.  And for what?  To be shot by some cop who couldn’t help him?  Is that what he wanted?  I know we did what we had to do, Hutch.  He would have killed you.  But still....”

 

Hutch sighed deeply as he shifted his weight off his cane and onto his good leg.  His bullet wound was healing nicely, and in a few weeks, we’d be back on the streets again.  Trouble was, I didn’t know if I had the stomach for it anymore.  “You tried to help him, Starsk.”  His voice was low and gentle.  “You did everything you could.  But he didn’t want your help.  Maybe he wanted to die.  Maybe he....”

 

I didn’t have anything to say to that, and I could tell Hutch wasn’t finished, so I just let him talk.  “I don’t know, Starsk.  Maybe when we left the jewelry store, he really wanted to just get out of there.  Take the money and run.  I told you he was talking in the car.”

 

I nodded.  “You said in your report that he wasn’t making a whole lotta sense at that point.”

 

Hutch was thoughtful for a moment.  “He kept talking about his ex-wife and kid.  How much he wanted to see his kid again.  Then, it was just like something snapped, and he just quit—became quiet.  I even asked some questions, but he wouldn’t respond.  That’s when I grabbed the steering wheel.”

 

“I just don’t get it.”

 

Hutch’s brow furrowed.  “I don’t know if this will mean anything to you, but right before Joe knocked me down, he said something to me.  You remember?”  At my nod, he continued.  “At first, I couldn’t quite make it out, and I thought he was saying ‘damn you.’  But now, as I keep replaying that moment in my head, the more I’m sure it sounded like ‘Dan two.’  Does that mean anything to you?  Was that an army division in Vietnam?  A battlefield?”

 

It took me a couple seconds to find my voice again.  “Yeah,” I finally answered.  “I know what it means.”

 

I swung back around to face him, needing the eye contact for strength.  “Dahn Tu.  It’s Vietnamese...means ‘mercy killing.’  But what did Chastain mean, Hutch?  That killing you was merciful, or...?”  My voice cracked again and no more words would come.

 

He reached out to gently touch my hand.  “Who knows what he was thinking?  He could have pulled the trigger at any time.  Or tried to shoot you while using me as a shield.  Maybe he just couldn’t see any other way out.  Either way, it was his choice, not yours.”

 

I guess he could see the doubt in my eyes because he kept on talking, a little more forcefully this time.  “Look, Starsk.  You had nothing to do with his tragedy or his addiction to drugs.  That happened a long time before you and I came into the picture.  The important thing is, you were willing to help.  Not everyone wants to be helped, Starsk, as cold and cruel as that may seem.  So all we can do is be there for the ones who need us, and do our best with the rest.”

 

I knew what he was saying was right, but I still couldn’t face that reality.  He slung an arm around my shoulders and I automatically accepted part of his weight, as he steered me out of the greenhouse and back into the apartment.

 

I stopped then and looked at him.  It seemed rather harsh, but what choice did I have?  Nothing I did now could change things.  It was finished, and it was up to me to either dwell on it or move ahead.  There were still things that bothered me, but I wasn’t ready to hash it all out just yet.  Some day soon I knew I would be, and I knew Hutch would help me through it.  But I didn’t want to think about it any more tonight.  Tonight, I just needed to take care of my partner.

 

I took a deep breath and removed his arm from my shoulders.  “Go sit down, Gimpy.  I’m gonna grab us a few beers, and then I’m gonna show you how to play Monopoly.”

 

Hutch rolled his eyes at me before he hobbled toward the living room.  “Fat chance, mushbrain.  I’m gonna wipe up the table with you.”

 

As I headed to the fridge, I couldn’t help smiling.  Somehow, even though the world was way out of kilter, in that apartment, I could believe everything would somehow be okay.  Maybe not tonight, but sometime.

 

I grabbed the beer and turned to join my partner.  “Hey!” I exclaimed loudly, walking a little faster.  “You can’t wear that!  That’s my lucky engineer’s hat.  And what did you do with my railroads?”

 

Yep.  It was gonna be okay.