This is not intended to infringe on any
copyrights held by Spelling-Goldberg Productions, Twentieth Century Fox Studios, or any
other holders of Starsky and Hutch copyrights. There has
been no money involved nor has any exchanged hands. No reprints or reproductions with the
author's permission. This is just intended to be for fun. Comments about this story can be
sent to
flamingoslim@erols.com. They will be forwarded to the author.
FADE IN
EXTERIOR DAY
Establishing shot of a small 4-seater,
single-engine plane, flying above clouds. Camera pulls in to medium close
of Starsky in front passenger seat. He looks at his watch, frowns, hold it to his ear,
shakes it, and looks at it again
STARSKY
Hey, Hutch, what time is it?
Angle widens to include Hutch and the man
sitting next to him, a medium-sized, rather truculent
fellow who's staring out the window.
HUTCH
Your electronic marvel stopped again?
STARSKY
There's nothing wrong with the watch---
I think the battery's dead.
Hutch, looks at his watch, and we see he is
handcuffed to the other man, Walter Benson, whom
they are escorting back to L.A.
HUTCH
It's 2:35. What's your hurry?
STARSKY
(nodding toward Benson) If we get him to the
D.A. by four, we might get through all the
paperwork today.
Benson looks over as if he's about to say
something uncomplimentary.
STARSKY
Besides man I'm getting pretty tired
of his face.
Hutch briefly lifts his left hand, indicating
the attached cuff.
HUTCH
Me, too, but I'm kind of attached to him.
Starsky sits back, shaking his head. The pilot
chuckles.
PILOT
How come they sent you guys out instead
of just sending him and the money back with
the state police?
STARSKY
The airfield was open, but the roads weren't.
PILOT
What'd he do, anyway?
STARSKY
Oh, he's a real sweetheart. Stuck a knife
in a bank courier at L.A. International
and took off for the hills with fifty grand.
PILOT
(whistles) He could've bought half that
town with that kind of money.
Hutch leans forward, one arm on the back of
Starsky's seat. We see he's not wearing his seat belt.
HUTCH
He tried. It was marked.
PILOT
Did you get the money back?
Starsky lifts a briefcase from under his seat
and opens it, holding it so Pilot can see contents.
STARSKY
Every last cent.
PILOT
(Slightly awed) Is that for real?
STARSKY
I sure hope so.
He closes the case and is sliding it back under
the seat when the plane joggles, catching him off
balance.
STARSKY
Hey!
He catches himself on the edge of the
instrument Panel.
STARSKY
What was that?
PILOT
Just turbulence. There are some odd air
pockets over these mountains. Shouldn't
be a problem unless one of you gets airsick
easy.
STARSKY, HUTCH
(ad lib no problem with airsickness)
Benson turns away from the window again. Cut to
his PoV: Hutch's shoulder holster,
looking quite accessible.
Another angle: Hutch turns to Benson with mock
solicitude.
HUTCH
Is your tummy okay, Wally?
BENSON
M'fine. (looks back out window)
Hutch nods, leans forward again, and is about
to speak when the plane hits
another air packet and he's thrown back onto the seat.
Action speeds up suddenly. Benson shoves Hutch
back with right (cuffed) hand, goes for the gun
with left, swings it out of the holster and away from Hutch, who grabs for it. Sound of a
shot. The
Pilot is hit and falls forward onto the wheel. Plane starts to dive.
CUT TO: EXTERIOR Plane starting to
dive.
FULL SHOT. Starsky twists around, trying to get
his belt off. The gun swings up to point at his
nose, and he ducks back as Hatch pulls Benson's am down. Sound of second shot, which hits
radio
and ricochets, hitting Hutch, who falls back, knocking himself out on the window. As he
falls,
Benson is pulled off balance.
Starsky seizes the gun, pulls it away, and
punches Benson, stunning him. He looks ever to Hutch,
who is unconscious, but is distracted by the whining sound of the plane's
engine.
Starsky dives for the wheel, pulling the inert
Pilot back into the seat and off the controls with his
free hand. He pulls back on the wheel, carefully, and the plane starts to climb. Grabbing
the
microphone, he regards the radio dubiously.
INSERT radio, sparking.
Starsky doesn't know if it's working but has
nothing to lose.
STARSKY
This is... (checks ID plate on instrument panel)
N275024. We have an emergency, our pilot is
injured.
No answer.
STARSKY
Mayday!! This is N275---
The radio throws off a shower of sparks, a
small trickle of smoke, and is silent. Starsky glances at
the instrument panel, whose dials and gauges tell him little.
INSERT altimeter. It shows steady at 11,000
feet, then slowly begins to drop again.
Starsky tries to rouse the Pilot, checks for
heartbeat, finds none. In the back seat, Benson groans
and tries to sit up. Starsky, literally seizing on him as the cause of all this, reaches
back with one
am and pulls him forward by his shirt front. (Note: both are shouting ever the sound of
engines.)
STARSKY
You'd better say your prayers, turkey!
If the crash doesn't kill you, I will!
BENSON
Crash? What crash?
STARSKY
You killed the pilot, you idiot! And I
can't fly this thing! I'm not even sure
where we are!
With his neck at stake, Benson suddenly becomes
alert and co-operative.
BENSON
I can fly.
He leads forward between the seats, checking
out the controls.
BENSON
We're losing altitude.
STARSKY
(shaking Benson) I know---what the hell do I do?
BENSON
Pull back on the wheel!
Starsky does so. Wheel comes back an inch or
two, then stops.
STARSKY
This is as far as it goes!
INSERT altimeter, still dropping. Cut to view
out the window---clouds rushing at plane.
BENSON
It must be a down draft---we're going
to crash!
Starsky throws him a look of
disgust.
STARSKY
Tell me something I don't know! How
do I land this thing?
Benson looks out the window, shakes his head,
points.
BENSON
There! Aim for that clear space!
STARSKY
Aim how?
BENSON
Foot pedals! Careful! Then (points to throttle) pull
that back, turn that row of switches off, and just before
we touch try to pull the nose up! And turn off the engine!
STARSKY
What do you think I am, Amelia Earhart?
He fights with controls as sound of engines
grows louder.
HIS PoV: Trees suddenly rush up at
plane.
LONG SHOT, EXTERIOR: The plane leaves one wing
on a pine tree, where the gas tank in it
explodes. Plane touches down, skips a couple of times. The remaining wing drags, catches
in the
snow, and rips off. The fuselage spins wildly, coming to rest against a snow bank under a
tree.
Camera pulls in close through the broken front
window to Starsky, unconscious on controls. PAN
TO Pilot, who is motionless, Benson, tossed onto the rear seat, and Hutch, crumpled on the
floor,
all unconscious. Camera pulls back to long shot of plane, tilted at a crazy angle in the
drift. Snow
starts to fall, thickens...
FADE OUT.
ACT ONE
FADE IN: EXTERIOR PLANE DAY
It's late afternoon, about an hour after the
crash. The snow has stopped, leaving a light coating on
the plane. Camera pulls in for a close shot of Starsky, lying across the controls. He
stirs, groans,
shakes his head, then winces and touches gash on forehead. Sitting up carefully, he looks
around,
into the back seat. Benson is gone. Hutch is lying halfway onto the floor, the empty cuff
dangling
from his wrist.
Starsky blinks and shakes his head again,
reaches over to check Hutch's pulse. Still there.
Relieved, he pulls Hutch up onto the seat and checks his wound. We see by his expression
that
he's not pleased, but has no cause for panic. He uses his handkerchief or part of his
shirt as a
temporary bandage, then tries to wake Hutch.
STARSKY
Hutch? (a beat; no reaction) Hey, buddy,
better get up. We've landed.
He glances at his watch, remembers it's broken,
makes an impatient gesture.
STARSKY
Hutch?
Hutch comes around slowly, groans, and reaches
for the back of his head, then opens his eyes and
looks around.
HUTCH
What happened? Where are we?
He starts to sit up, stops short with a sharp
gasp and grabs his shoulder in surprise.
HUTCH
I'm shot!
STARSKY
No foolin'. (pushes bandage back into
place) You'd better hold still til I
find the first aid stuff.
Hutch nods tightly, holding the bandage down as
Starsky clambers into the back of the plane to
forage.
HUTCH
Where's Benson?
STARSKY
Gone. He woke up before I did. Took my keys.
HUTCH
(nods toward Pilot) What about Cliff?
STARSKY
(soberly) He's gone, too.
Hutch looks at Pilot's back, closes his eyes.
Pain on his face could be from the news or the wound;
probably both. After a moment he shivers, checks his shoulder holster, which he's been
lying on.
HUTCH
He's got my gun.
STARSKY
I know. He didn't try for mine---must've
been afraid I'd wake up. One to one.
HUTCH
I don't think he'll get too far out here.
He might be hurt.
Starsky finds an object wrapped in a bedraggled
sleeping bag and starts unwrapping it, shaking his
head.
STARSKY
I don't think he's hurt.
HUTCH
Why, did he leave you a note?
Starsky pulls a flat box out and balances it on
the back of he seat.
STARSKY
No, he left the first aid kit and this thing (holds up
sleeping bag) ... but according to the supply list
on the box there's supposed to be an emergency
shelter kit and a food pack. I guess he took
those with him.
He continues talking as he climbs back to
between the front seats.
STARSKY
He must know his way around up here even
better than we thought, if he's going to
try walking out.
Covering Hutch with the sleeping bag, he
commences first aid procedures.
HUTCH
That's gratitude for you. After all the trouble
we took to find him and take him out of these
godforsaken mountains--- (winces)
STARSKY
Sorry. The bullet's still in there. Don't
be too hard on Wally. He could've blown us
away before he left.
HUTCH
Why risk two more murder charges? All he has
to do is wait for us to freeze and save him the
trouble.
He winces again as Starsky applies medicated
powder and a dressing to the wound, takes a breath
to steady himself before speaking again.
HUTCH
You have my idea which way it is to the nearest
town?
STARSKY
All I saw while we were coming down was trees and
snow.
Hutch tries to sit up and look out,
fails.
HUTCH
Did Benson leave a trail? Maybe you
can follow him out.
Starsky glances outside (HIS PoV). There is a
trail of sorts, probably adequate... he glances
quickly at Hutch, then back outside.
STARSKY
You can't travel like that.
HUTCH
(impatient) No, but you can. And send
help later. I'll be all right.
Starsky looks out at the tracks, weighing the
decision. The wind is gradually blowing the trail
away---if he doesn't go soon, there won't he a choice. He looks back at Hutch and
shrugs.
STARSKY
Not enough of a trail left to follow, anyway. How's
the arm feel?
Hutch gives him a look indicating that he
(Starsky) is lacking in elementary perception.
HUTCH
It hurts. (keeping it light) I don't think
I'll ever play the violin again.
Finishes with the bandage and starts to out the
supplies away.
STARSKY
If you think I'll touch a line like that
you're crazy. (puts box in back)
Now for the smoke signals.
HUTCH
What's wrong with the radio?
STARSKY
(disgusted) Benson shot that, too.
HUTCH
What the hell happened up there? How'd
we get down?
STARSKY
I don't know. All I remember is Benson saying
we were going to crash. Guess getting bumped
on the head knocked it all loose.
HUTCH
You all right?
STARSKY
(hastily) Yeah, fine. Wonder if I got out
on the radio. Seemed like it was working for
a minute before it blew out.
HUTCH
If you did, there should he a plane over soon.
Maybe we ought to make some kind of signal. The plane's
white---won't show up against all this snow.
Starsky looks glumly at the surrounding
mountains.
HIS PoV: A low ridge with a few trees near the
top. The area they've crashed in has several
smaller trees, partly blocking their view of the sky.
ANOTHER ANGLE
STARSKY
(nods) Like I said, smoke signals. If build
a fire up there, somebody ought to see it.
Hutch gives Starsky's attire a dubious
appraisal.
HUTCH
You're going to climb tip there in sneakers?
INSERT Starsky's Feet. He is wearing
sneakers.
STARSKY
Ath-a-letic shoes, if you please. Nothing
more ath-a-letic than mountain climbing.
HUTCH
Yeah. When the sheriff said to wear heavy
coats he should've said heavy shoes, too.
STARSKY
And socks, but we never planned to go for a
stroll. What time is it?
HUTCH
Three-fifteen. Not long enough.
NOTE: It's beginning to get very cold inside
the plane---if possible their breath should be
vaporizing.
STARSKY
(nods) Even if I got up there, I couldn't find
the plane again in the dark. What do we have
around that'll burn?
HUTCH
Trees. Seats, bandages, the blanket---What about the fuel?
STARSKY
In the wings. We lost the wings. There should be
Some oil in the engines, though.
He gets the first aid kit out again and empties
the supplies into the front seat, them climbs out and
locates the oil drainage valve. As it starts to drain he goes back to the front window and
peers in at
Hutch.
STARSKY
I'm going to go see if I can find any dry
wood under the trees.
Hutch nods. Starsky looks around, spots a
cluster of trees about a half a mile any and trudges off
through the snow.
DISSOLVE TO: INTERIOR PLANE DAY
MEDIUM CLOSE on Hutch, lying Tinder sleeping
bag, eyes closed. He, opens them as we hear
faint sound of a plane engine in the distance, and looks around.
HUTCH
Starsky?
No answer. Awkwardly (right arm is bound to
body to prevent movement of the injured area), he
pulls himself up to look outside.
HIS PoV: Snow, trees, (PAN TO AIR) small plane
in the distance (PAN BACK TO GROUND)
No Starsky.
ANOTHER ANGLE
With some difficulty, Hutch climbs out of the
plane, dragging the sleeping bag along with him. As
the plane passes overhead, he waves the blanket in the air, trying to attract attention,
shouting.
HUTCH
Hey, we're down here!
He waves the bag furiously, almost throwing
himself off balance.
HUTCH
Hey! Help!
The plane continues, apparently
unaware.
CUT TO: INTERIOR FLYING PLANE Day
MEDIUM SHOT of a middle-aged couple---husband
piloting, wife looking into the back seat
where two teenagers are sleeping. Ski racks line the sides of the plane's
roof.
MRS. WARREN
You know, it's kind of nice to see then both
quiet For a change.
Mr. WARREN
Enjoy it. It's probably the last time you'll
see either of them like that until next
vacation.
MRS. WARREN
I suppose so. (sighs) It's almost worth putting
up with all that ice and snow for this peace and quiet.
MR. WARREN
(laughs) I can take a hint. OK, next time we'll
go out to Hawaii. I promise. Got any more of
that coffee?
She smiles and reaches down toward a travel
bag. Neither of them has looked out
the window during the whole conversation.
CUT TO: CLOSE SHOT Hutch
He stares up at the plane, hopeful expression
changing to disappointment as plane makes no
indication it's aware of him. He shivers, wraps the sleeping, bag over his shoulders, and
stumbles
back to the plane.
DISSOLVE TO:
Starsky, returning with a bundle of branches
dragging behind him. As he rounds the tail section of
the plane he seeing Hutch sitting next to it, shivering. Dropping the wood, he hurries
over.
STARSKY
What're you doing out here?
HUTCH
Couldn't---get the damn door open.
Starsky frowns and tries the door, which comes
open with a second hard tug---hinges
or door catch seems frozen, but it's nothing that would normally give Hutch any
trouble.
STARSKY
Yeah, it is kinda stuck. (helps Hutch tip, inside)
You'd better rest inside. I'll get a fire going.
Hutch nods, settling back on the seat. He's
given himself a thorough chill and isn't feeling any
warmer for being out of the wind.
HUTCH
Plane---there was a plane over here, a little
while ago.
STARSKY
I know. I tried waving some branches at it, but they
didn't see me. (a beat) Is that why you were
outside?
HUTCH
Yeah. Didn't see me, either. I don't think they're
looking for us, Starsk.
Starsky frowns as he covers Hutch up again.
He's inclined to agree, but doesn't want to get too
pessimistic yet.
STARSKY
They will be---we had a flight plan registered.
As soon as we get too far past the time we're supposed
to he there, they'll check with the airfield. We can't be
too far off course. They'll see the fire...
He glances outside the window at the
wood.
STARSKY
...if I can get one started.
He leaves.
DISSOLVE TO: INTERIOR DOBEY'S OFFICE
DAY
Dobey is on the intercom with his
secretary.
DOBEY
--supposed to let me know when they got back.
(pause)
OK. Listen, call the airport and see if you can find
out when their plane got in.
He glances up at the clock on the
wall.
DOBEY
Yeah, Starsky called just before they left,
said it would take an hour and a half, two
hours.
(pause)
Right.
He hangs up, frowning, and looks at the wall
clock again.
DISSOLVE TO: INTERIOR PLANE DAY
INSERT of leaping flames. Camera pulls back to
show a small fire built in an engine bowling on
the plane floor (bare metal; carpeting removed) between what's left of the front seats.
The
cushions have been pulled out of the front seats and used either to plug drafts or as a
makeshift
bed for Hutch, who's lying on the back seat, eyes closed. (subdued background sounds of
fire and
wind howling outside)
Starsky is rummaging around in the tail section
of the plane again. (NOTE Body of Pilot is no
longer visible; we shall assume he is buried in the show outside the plane.)
STARSKY
Hey, hey!
There is a rattling noise and he pulls out a
metal lunch pail.
STARSKY
Party time!
Hutch's reaction is feeble---opens his eyes,
attempts a smile, nods.
Concerned with Hutch's lack of interest,
Starsky quickly looks back into the lunchbox and goes
into a carnival-barker routine.
STARSKY
AND let's see what we haw here. One ham
sandwich, a piece of cake, an orange....
He takes but a silver thermos, rattles it
experimentally, opens it, sniffs, and reacts favorably.
STARSKY
Coffee , too.
Hutch acknowledges with a small nod, not
bothering to look. Frowning, Starsky climbs out from
the tail section, carrying the lunchbox.
STARSKY
Want same coffee?
HUTCH
(mumbling) No, thanks.
STARSKY
C'mon, it's good for ya, build yourself up,
chase away the chills....
He pours out half a cup, starts to prop Hutch
up so he can drink.
HUTCH
Look, Starsk, I don't---
STARSKY
Got to keep up your strength in case the bears come out.
He holds the cup at an angle that gives Hutch
the choice of drinking the coffee or wearing it.
Hutch give up and takes a sip.
HUTCH
No bears. Wolves, maybe. The bears
are hibernating.
STARSKY
The bears are smart. Want something to eat?
HUTCH
(indifferent, too tired to argue) OK.
You want to have lunch, we'll have lunch.
Better save some for breakfast, though.
STARSKY
Right
He props Hutch up with the seat cushions,
unwraps the sandwich and hands Hutch half, then starts
in on the other half himself.
STARSKY
So, tonight we turn in nice and early, get up with
the sun tomorrow, call a cab, and get home in time
for dinner.
HUTCH
Sure.
He takes a bite, forcing it while Starsky
continues.
STARSKY
Why not? I can go up there and set fire to one
of those trees. There's a couple off by themselves
that won't start any forest fires, and they're
bound to have search planes out by then. You
know how Captain Dobey is about signing in late.
Hutch nods and Starsky continues, relentlessly
cheerful.
STARSKY
... and I found one of those tinfoil blankets back
there, too. ...
To pulls out a survival "space
blanket" from one pocket.
STARSKY
All the comforts of hone.
HUTCH
Your home, maybe. When did you move into
the ice box?
He's beginning to shiver intermittently; looks
disinterestedly at the sandwich,
STARSKY
Well, you knew the old saying---home is
where the food is.
HUTCH
Yeah. Here.
He passes Starsky the remains of the sandwich,
holding up one hand to forestall argument.
HUTCH
You eat it (Starsky reacts negatively) ---
or put it away, or something. I just don't---
He shakes his head and lies back down, huddling
toward the fire.
Starsky watches him worriedly. Anxiety and the
strain of keeping up an optimistic front are
beginning to show---they're in real trouble and he knows it.
He helps Hutch to get comfortable and looks
around outside as he unfolds the reflecting blanket,
then reaches across to lock the doors. Leaving his pistol within easy reach, he settles
down near
Hutch and spreads the second blanket over them both. As he leans back, resting but not
really
intending to sleep, the sound of the wind outside becomes more obvious.
Starsky listens, leans forward to peer out a
window.
HIS PoV: Icy blue-white terrain. The moon
disappears behind racing clouds and the wind
continues. He rises unsteadily on one elbow.
STARSKY
Hutch, what was that you said about wolves?
Hutch is apparently sleeping. Starsky glances
toward the gun again, then outside, and lies back
down....
FADE OUT
ACT TWO
FADE IN DOBEY'S OFFICE NIGHT
It's fairly late---10 or 11 p.m.---and Dobey
has stayed long past quitting time. He's back on the
telephone....
DOBEY
Well, so far we've established that they took off but never arrived.
(pause)
No, of course I haven't heard from them.
If they haven't even landed, how---
Another pause while the other party explains at
length. Dobey becomes visibly annoyed as the
explanation drags on.
DOBEY
Why didn't you---whose jurisdiction is it, then?
Yet another pause. Dobey nods, rubs at an
incipient migraine, and signs.
DOBEY
Right.
He hangs up, glares at the phone for a moment,
then picks it up and buzzes his secretary.
DOBEY
Rita, get me the National Park Service.
DISSOLVE TO: INTERIOR CRASHED PLANE
NIGHT
The scene is fairly dark --- the fire has
dwindled to bits of charcoal. It's very late, around 2 or 3 in
the morning.
CLOSE SHOT of Starsky, sleeping. He jerks awake
at the sound of clanking, looks over to where
Hutch is trying to drag the lunchbox away from the edge of the fire.
STARSKY
What're you doing?
Hutch looks up, focusing with difficulty. He's
developed chills and a fever and seems dazed, voice
and movements unsteady.
HUTCH
Just thirsty .... Thought you were melting
show in here.
He rattles the lunchbox again.
STARSKY
Yeah. Hold on a minute, I'll get it for you.
He scrambles up and gets Hutch back under the
blankets, pours same water into the thermos cup
and helps him drink, then turns to add wood to the fire.
STARSKY
What's the matter? How're you feeling?
HUTCH
Cold ... too cold. We can't stay here.
He glances around distractedly, shivering and
holding his shoulder. The tone and delivery of his
words catch Starsky's attention and he turns , frowning uneasily.
STARSKY
(tentatively) Sure. But we have to stay
'til it's light out, remember? Just hang on,
partner. They'll be looking for us.
Hutch shakes his head, looking toward the
sky.
HUTCH
We've got to get out of here.
He grabs Starsky's sleeve and tries to get
up.
STARSKY
What? (holds him down.) You can't go out
there, man. It's too cold.
HUTCH
(urgently) Have to get out and signal the plans!
Starsky looks outside, listening. only sound is
that of the wind.
**STARSKY
What plane?
CLOSE TWO SHOT
HUTCH
Listen!
His grip on Starsky's arm tightens and he
stares at him, puzzled, then glances upward again.
HUTCH
There's a plane up there. Looking for us.
We have to go out and make a signal so
they'll see us.
Starsky closes his eyes a moment, shakes his
head.
STARSKY
There's nothing out there, Hutch.
HUTCH
But....
He also shakes his head, as if to clear it,
realizes he's not in the best of shape and had better trust
Starsky's ears.
HUTCH
Nothing? (a beat) You're sure?
ANOTHER ANGLE
STARSKY
Yeah. It's too dark, and there's clouds all
over the place. They won 't send anybody out
'til they can see where they're going.
Hutch relaxes again, looking rather
forlorn.
HUTCH
No plane?
STARSKY
Not yet.
HUTCH
(bemused) I'm hearing things?
STARSKY
Happens to the best of us. Go back to sleep.
HUTCH
(nodding vaguely) good idea.
He pulls up the blanket and rolls back toward
the fire. Deciding to stay awake for awhile and keep
an eye on him, Starsky starts to dismantle the radio with his pocketknife. Hutch mumbles
something, barely audible.
STARSKY
What?
HUTCH
Funny. When I told my folks I was moving to
California, my mother kept asking me why.
STARSKY
That's funny?
HUTCH
No...I finally told her I couldn't take those
Minnesota winters my more... in California I
might get shot but at least I wouldn't freeze
to death... now she won't be able to say "I told
you so."
STARSKY
'Course not. We aren't going to freeze. (waves
a hand in general direction of the trees) Plenty
of wood.
HUTCH
Yeah. A whole forest of it ... but if somebody
doesn't show up pretty seen it won't make any
difference. (yawns, starting to get groggy) You
should've gone after Wally.
STARSKY
He's probably as lost as we are. We've got the plane
and a fire, and that's what they'll be looking for.
Get some sleep.
When Hutch doesn't reply, he looked up from the
radio to find Hutch had dropped off again.
Starsky watches Hutch closely for a moment to be sure he's still breathing, concerned now
whether he'll make it 'til morning. He looks cut at the sky again, then back to
Hutch,
STARSKY
(muttering) Hang on, buddy.
He looks at his watch, which of course
registers the same time it did just before the crash.
STARSKY
Damn!
He pulls the watch off and hurls it to the
other end of the plane.
DISSOLVE TO: DOBEY'S OFFICE
NIGHT
It's between three and four a.m. Dobey's tie is
askew, his desk is in disorder, and he looks like he
hasn't slept in a week. We break in on another phone conversation...
DOBEY
How early can you send them out, then?
(pause)
Right. You'll keep me informed? Thanks.
He hangs up and leans his head on me hand,
stifling a yawn as Sally Hagen enters with two cups
of coffee. (She is a recently appointed detective, a friend of Starsky and Hutch, who
appeared in a
2nd season episode.)
Dobey accepts the coffee with a grateful nod,
completing his yawn behind the other hand, and sips
at it.
DOBEY
Thanks, Sally. I thought you were off-duty.
SALLY
(shrugs) I am. How's it going, Captain?
Dobey shakes his head regretfully.
DOBEY
Not too good. They finally tracked down a
report of a distress call with their letters,
but that was twelve hours ago, and no one's heard
from them since.
SALLY
Then they know where to look?
Dobey points to a map on one wall, the area
where the plane disappeared is circled in red. It's a
pretty large circle.
DOBEY
General area, yes. Trouble is, they can't send
up planes until six or seven, and then they can only
stay up a couple of hours.
Dobey nines mother yawn and rubs his
eyes.
SALLY
Why's that?
DOBEY
They tell me there's a low-pressure system
moving in on the tail of that other me.
SALLY
(puzzled) Sir?
DOBEY
They're gonna get a snowstorm up there, Sally.
A big one.
DISSOLVE TO: INTERIOR PLANE DAY
MEDIUM SHOT of Starsky, wrapped in his coat and
asleep. Angle widens to include Hutch, who
stirs, opens his eyes, and peers around curiously, collecting his thoughts. He's rational,
but still
feverish and fairly weak. He starts to speak, comes out with a hoarse croak, then swallows
and
tries again.
HUTCH
Hey, Starsky!
Starsky opens me eye about halfway, giving the
impression, that he fell asleep very recently.
Grubby and unshaven, he closes the eye and mumbles under His breath.
HUTCH
(louder) Starsky, it's morning.
Starsky opens both eyes and looks woefully at
the cloudy sky.
STARSKY
Sun's not out. Am you sure?
HUTCH
I think that's all the sun we are going to get.
STARSKY
Terrific.
He gets up reluctantly and revives the fire,
puts more snow into the lunchbox to melt, then hunts
for the food. Finding the thermos, he pours out some coffee, takes a sip, and offers it to
Hutch.
STARSKY
You still thirsty?
HUTCH
A little.
He tries the coffee and coughs, favoring
shoulder; by his expression, we gather the coffee has not
improved with age.
HUTCH
That's awful. Got water melted?
STARSKY
So the coffee's cooled off a little....
He shrugs and finishes it, pours water into the
cup, hands it to Hutch, and studies the food supply.
STARSKY
How about some orange juice? Plenty of Vitamin D---
HUTCH
Vitamin C, Starsk. ---Where'd you get orange juice?
In reply Starsky tosses up the orange from the
previous night's scavenging.
STARSKY
Out of the orange, where else? You want it all
in one piece, or squoze?
HUTCH
Better not waste any of it. Split it with you.
STARSKY
No, I had half the cake last night. You take it.
He drops the orange in Hutch's lap. Hutch picks
it up, looking from the orange to his immobilized
arm with a mildly martyred air.
HUTCH
Starsky, you can't peel an orange with one hand.
He tosses the orange back. Starsky catches and
holds it for a moment, trying to figure out how to
peel it single-handed.
STARSKY
Think you my be right. (he proceeds to peel it.)
HUTCH
Besides, you're going to have to go out and
make a signal. If you catch pneumonia, there's
no way they're going to find us before the spring
thaw. (accepts half the orange) Just be glad it isn't
yogurt.
STARSKY
(grimaces) If it was I'd take the pneumonia. How're
you feeling?
Hutch shakes his head uncertainly.
HUTCH
Don't know. Kind of foggy--- don't think it's
really as warm as it feels. (shakes his head again)
Got some kind of cold, I guess.
Starsky checks his forehead.
STARSKY
I think you've got a fever. Maybe there's
aspirin
in the first-aid---
HUTCH
No.
Reaching for the box, Starsky
stops.
STARSKY
What? Why not?
HUTCH
Thins your blood... (nods toward the
bandage) Got my of those phony aspirins in there?
Starsky rummages through the contents, shaking
his head.
HUTCH
Don't Worry about it. (leans back) There'll be
somebody looking for us pretty soon, anyway. Kept
dreaming all night about that, that there were planes
out up them, looking for us.
Starsky looks apprehensive---not that
again!
STARSKY
(cautiously) I didn't hear anything.
HUTCH
No, I guess I didn't, either. (rubs his head)
That reminds me. Signals. You can't set fire to a tree.
He waves his hand to indicate something heavy
falling.
HUTCH
The show on top would just melt and put it out.
STARSKY
Yeah, I know. I thought of something else,
though. Learned it in the Scouts.
HUTCH
You were a Boy Scout?
STARSKY
Just until I found out it was more fun to go
camping with the girls. (looks belligerent) What's
wrong with the Boy Scouts?
HUTCH
Nothing. But knowing you I had to wonder what
happened to thrifty, clean, reverent---
STARSKY
I can't remember everything.
HUTCH
I can believe that. What did you remember?
Starsky is busily ripping the cover off one of
the seat cushions and wrapping it around me of his
feet. He finishes with it and starts on the other foot as he talks.
STARSKY
Shadow letters. You walk around in the snow and
make 20-foot letters and an arrow pointing to
where we are.
Hutch nods, looking critically at the sky. His
concern is obvious; if the show starts again it will
probably cover the letters before anyone can see them.
STARSKY
There's too many trees here, so I'm gonna put them
down in that clearing. It might take awhile, so just
stay put, okay?
Hutch obviously does not remember last night's
"search planes" as anything more than a dream,
nor his own efforts to get out. He gives Starsky an odd look and nods
HUTCH
Sure.
Starsky puts the gun on the seat, within
reach.
STARSKY
And if Wally stops by, ask him in. See ya.
HUTCH
Yeah.
He leans back again, pulling the blankets up,
and looks out at the sky.
HIS PoV: The clouds are getting heavier. Camera
holds for several seconds-snowflakes gradually
start to fall....
DISSOLVE TO: MOUNTAINSIDE DAY
MEDIUM SHOT of Starsky, tramping around in the
show. He appears to have been out for some
time---his pants are snow-caked and sodden past the knees, and a light layer of snow has
accumulated on his head and shoulders. Camera pulls back for a LONG SHOT of his project:
we
see he has completed the letters SOS and most of an arrow. Camera pulls in closer, and he
looks
up uneasily at the increasingly rapid snowflakes. He scowls up at the clouds ... and his
attention is
caught by something just beyond the ridge.
HIS PoV: A thin trail of smoke is edging up
toward the sky....
ANOTHER ANGLE: Starsky's first thought is that
the smoke is from Benson's fire and stealth is
necessary. Camera follows as he climbs carefully up the ridge.
When he reaches the top he's stymied---the
smoke appears to be coming out of the snow behind
him. Starsky frowns; and starts down the slope. The seat covers give very poor
traction---halfway
down he slips and rolls, flying the last few yards as if off a ski jump.
Starsky lands awkwardly, rolling over a couple
of times. Picking himself up, he wipes the snow,
out of his face and looks up.
HIS PoV: A grizzled old man whose eyes, nose,
and scraggly beard are all that's visible above
onion-skin layers of clothing is holding a shotgun with a very long barrel ... pointing
directly at
Starsky.
FADE OUT.
ACT THREE
FADE IN EXTERIOR DAY
Scene is as we left it Starsky staring at the
mountaineer, who is regarding him with equal curiosity.
Slowly, hands raised, Starsky gets to his feet. He and the old man are silent, sizing each
other up.
Finally the stranger speaks.
OLD MAN
You'll have t' excuse my nosiness, young feller,
but how in blazes did you get all the way up here
dressed like that?
Starsky, half-frozen , blinks in
surprise.
STARSKY
We...we were flying back...
His teeth are chattering and he's not very
coherent.
OLD MAN
Well, don't stand around out here. Too blasted
cold. Come on in.
He latches onto Starsky's elbow and pulls him
toward the cabin.
QUICK PAN of cabin, barely visible under a
heavy blanket of snow. A long skid mark in the
snow on the roof documents Starsky's arrival.
As the old man pushes the door open and propels
Starsky inside, camera pans the cabin interior. It
is dimly lit, the only sources of light being a kerosene lamp on a table opposite the door
and a
well-stocked fireplace to its right. To the left are a row of shelves holding various
supplies, and a
closed door. A loft that's supported beneath peaked beams , with a ladder running up to it
from
beside the fireplace. A fat iron stove sits to the left of the table, and a pine-frame bed
is in the
corner next to the fireplace, to catch the heat. The general impression is that of a
long-tenanted
den, somewhere spartan but snug and warm.
The old man gets a cup from the shelf, takes it
over to the stove, and pours a cup of coffee. Starsky
stands just inside the door, rubbing his hands together and stamping his feet to restore
circulation,
trying to convince himself he's not dreaming. The old man hands him the cup and he just
holds it,
absorbing the warmth.
OLD MAN
Well? You going to tell me how you got up here?
STARSKY
We flew. Crashed yesterday, down the hill that way.
(nods) Didn't you hear it?
OLD MAN
Nope. Got home yesterday, just 'fore dark. (peers at Starsky) You hurt?
STARSKY
No. No!
He remembers Hutch, puts the cup over on the
table and looks around the cabin.
STARSKY
Listen , do you have a sled, or a heavy blanket or
something? My friend's back in the plane--
he was shot just before we---
The old man backs off warily, retrieving his
gum .
OLD MAN
Shot? Just how did he happen to get shot,
young fella? You in a holdup or something?
Shaking his head, Starsky digs carefully in his
pocket, cold hands causing same fumbling. He
carefully brings out his ID and holds it up so the old man can see it.
STARSKY
No. We're police. We were flying back to
L.A. with a prisoner and had some trouble--
The old man checks the ID closely; we can see
him comparing Starsky's face to the picture.
OLD MAN
De-tective, eh?
He decides Starsky is on the level, lowers the
gun and sticks out his hand.
OLD MAN
Pleased to meet you, Starsky. Woodrow Wilson McCoy.
They shake hands; McCoy trots ever to the
closed door at the left, pulls it open, and extricates a
small wood-sled.
MCCOY
Now, where's this friend of yours?
DISSOLVE TO: EXTERIOR DAY
MEDIUM SHOP of Starsky and McCoy, pulling Hutch
on the sled. It's snowing heavily and
getting on toward evening. Hutch is sleeping or unconscious; Starsky checks on him
intermittently. McCoy is giving what seems to be his life story.
MCCOY
---one of the best trappers these parts've ever
seen But nowadays it's illegal to catch half the
critters --- guess it's just as well, ain't many of
'em anymore, not like the old days. Anyhow, I been
takin' in summer boarders for five year, now. These
big, important exeytives come up here and sleep in
my loft, tear holes in them fancy outfits, and freeze
their feet lookin' for trout-- (chuckles---
great joke an them) and they pay me---more'n
I ever made trappin'. Them cities must be gettin'
near unbearable.
STARSKY
Yeah, sometimes.
He's worried---had not expected Hutch to be
unconscious.
MCCOY
Now, don't fret 'bout your friend here. He's
still breathin' All the mayhem them summer
fellers in-flict on theirselves, ain't lost a
patient yet.
Starsky nods gloomily as the camera pulls far
back until the sled and moving figures are just a
dark blur in the snow: REVERSE SHOT of Benson, watching them from the tent. He nods to
himself, starts to get his supplies together, and zips the tent shut.
DISSOLVE TO: CABIN INTERIOR NIGHT
MEDIUM SHOP of the cabin interior, including
the door. McCoy pushes it open and Starsky
carries Hutch inside, depositing him on the bed as McCoy puts the sled away.
ANOTHER ANGLE on Starsky from the far side of
the bed, with McCoy visible background. As
he finishes with the sled he comes forward into the frame. Starsky's first move is to
check the
shoulder wound, listening absently to the monolog that McCoy has continued since they
entered.
MCCOY
(at storeroom) --luckier than you think,
young fella. That line shack was beginnin'
to look mighty cozy.
STARSKY
Line shack?
MCCOY
(walking over) You sure are a city boy. The
line shack's a glorified lean-to eight mile up the
ridge. Used to sleep, there when I was workin' the
trap line. I was on my way back from hunting' rabbits
yesterday, wasn't sure if I could outrun them storm clouds.
STARSKY
You think we're gonna get a lot of snow?
McCoy's expression is that of someone
explaining rudimentary facts to an uncivilized savage.
MCCOY
That's a blizzard but there, son. Time it's through
there won It be a speck of that little plane of yours
showin'. I'm too old to run around in a
storm like that. Don't get your little
flatland flurries up here. When it snows it snows.
Hutch stirs and looks around blurrily,
mumbling.
HUTCH
Starsky?
STARSKY
Yeah, buddy, What is it?
HUTCH
Benson ... where's Benson?
STARSKY
He's still hiding out someplace with the
survival stuff. We'll go find him when it
stops showing.
MCCOY
Like some water, son?
Hutch looks at him curiously, trying to place
him, then at Starsky, questioning.
STARSKY
This is Mr. McCoy---
MCCOY
Woody.
STARSKY
(shrugs assent) we're still up in the mountains.
he lives up here.
Hutch nods. McCoy folds his arms.
MCCOY
Well? You thirsty?
HUTCH
Yeah. Thanks.(closes eyes.)
McCoy heads for a small water pump in the
corner near the window, picking up a cup along the
way and indicating with a jerk of his head that Starsky should come along. Camera follows
them.
MCCOY
Who's Benson?
STARSKY
The guy who shot him. I'll have to go look
for him in the morning.
MCCOY
I wouldn't worry too much 'bout that. He won't
go far in this show.
He pumps water into the cup and lowers his
voice.
MCCOY
Your friend's had that bullet in him
since yesterday?
Starsky nods.
MCCOY
Well, I can't say for sure he'll get blood
poison, but I don't like the look of that
wound or the shape he's in. We better get the
bullet out.
STARSKY
Isn't there some way to get help? A radio or
something?
MCCOY
Antenna blew down last week. Could be two,
three days before the wind lets up enough to
put it up. You want to risk waiting that long?
Starsky looks over toward Hutch, lets out a
held breath, and shakes his head reluctantly.
STARSKY
Guess not. Can you---?
MCCOY
Son, I'm a trapper, not a doctor.
Starsky gives him an incredulous
look.
STARSKY
I thought you said--
MCCOY
It's been a while. I don't know---
He gets an unrelenting stare from
Starsky.
MCCOY
Well, all right ... but you'll have to help.
STARSKY
(nods) I'll tell him.
He takes the water over to Hutch and explains
(in the background, inaudible) as McCoy goes
through his medical supplies, sets a pot of water on the stove, and checks the first-aid
kit they
brought with. Camera follows McCoy as he washes his hands at the pump and returns to the
bed.
MCCOY
(to Hutch) Now, first off I just want to See if I can
find the little devil.
He starts to probe for the bullet with
fingertips, but hits something the wrong
way. Hutch jerks up with a strangled cry. Starsky holds him down, wincing.
STARSKY
Easy, easy.
MCCOY
Sorry about that, son. That bullet got bent outta
shape when it bounced off your radio.
STARSKY
This isn't gonna work. I can't keep him still
enough...(eyes the door) Are you sure we can't
get help?
MCCOY
You might get half a mile 'fore you start walkin'
in circles. Then you'd freeze or walk over the
side of a cliff.
Hutch shakes his need, resigned.
HUTCH
He's right, Starsk. (to McCoy) Go ahead.
MCCOY
Just a minute.
He goes through his pockets, pulls out a
bandanna, folds it, and offers it to Hutch.
MCCOY
Here, bite on this.
Hutch eyes it suspiciously
MCCOY
(exasperated) It's clean.
Hutch bites down, scowling at Starsky, who
looks mildly amused.
MCCOY
Brace yourself, now.
The humor vanishes. Hutch tenses visibly and
Starsky tighten his grip on the uninjured shoulder,
both watching McCoy.
The old man turns as if to reach for something,
then snaps around with a short, fast jab that catches
Hutch on the chin, knocking him cold.
Starsky reacts equally fast, grabbing McCoy's
am and pulling him away, off balance.
STARSKY
(shouting) What the hell did you do that for?
He drops McCoy's arm, glaring. McCoy regains
his footing and regards Starsky sourly.
MCCOY
Anesthetic.
Starsky's anger vanishes and he
nods.
MCCOY
Get me the alcohol off the table, would'ya?
Starsky complies. McCoy uncorks the bottle and
pours alcohol over his hands, Hutch's shoulder,
and a knife from his equipment. Looking rather reluctant himself, he takes a deep breath,
mutters
something inaudible, and goes to work.
CLOSE UP on Starsky, watching over McCoy's
shoulder. He winces as McCoy begins, looks
mildly sick, and turns away for a moment to look into the fire.
INSERT OF FIREPLACE
DISSOLVE TO: INTERIOR CABIN DAY
It's early the following morning, and one of
the window's shutters is half-open showing blue sky
and sunshine--the storm has stopped.
Hutch is propped up in bed, looking a little
better. He's chasing bacon and scrambled eggs around
his plate with his left hand, since the right is still immobilized. He's not having much
luck and is
becoming annoyed.
Starsky and McCoy are sitting at the table, and
McCoy is rambling on again.
MCCOY
--so I asked 'em what they stuffed it with,
an' they said, "What?" ---durn fools
didn't know it wasn't empty. They just
shot the bird, plucked it, and stuck it in
the oven 'thout cleanin' it. Almost let 'em
eat it that way, too, just to teach 'em.
Starsky chokes on a mouthful of eggs, but
there's no response from Hutch. He is still in pursuit of
breakfast, getting more irritated by the minute. Finally he feels himself being watched,
looks up.
HUTCH
Starsky could you wrap some toast around these
(indicates plate) so I can get a grip on 'em
Starsky makes a quick sandwich and hands it to
him, than sits back down to finish his own
breakfast. McCoy collects the empty plates, rinses them off at the pump, and sets them on
a shelf
to dry.
MCCOY
(to Starsky) You hang up the pan, son. I'm gonna see
if I can dig out that antenna.
As he rummages around in the storeroom, Starsky
picks up a cast iron frying pan, finding it much
heavier than he expected, and inspects it closely.
STARSKY
Hey, we used to have stuff like this when I was a kid,
'til we got my ma a set of aluminum---
Drugging the antenna out, McCoy
snorts.
MCCOY
'Luminum's no darn good up here --- handles
melt right off when you try t'bake in 'em.
(directing Starsky, who's looking for a place
to put the pan) Just hang it up by the fireplace.
The hook is an the side of the fireplace, above
Hutch; Starsky hangs up the pan, retrieves his coat
from another hook, and heads for the door.
STARSKY
Once we get that antenna up I think I'll go
look around for Wally.
McCoy looks at him and shakes his
head.
MCCOY
(to Hutch) He from Canada?
HUTCH
No. Why?
MCCOY
Boy acts like one of those fool Mounties.
He sits down and starts to pull on his
boots.
MCCOY
Always has to go trompin' around in the snow,
lookin' for trouble. Talked him out of it twice
'fore you woke up...
(to Starsky) No need for it, son. If he's not
already froze stiff you'll find him when we
get some help up here. Just a waste of time
to look for him now.
He picks up the antenna and starts trying to
straighten a bend in the wire.
Camera follows Starsky to the
door.
STARSKY
Okay. I just want to take a look around for smoke.
He's probably got a fire going somewhere to keep
warm ---
He pulls the door open and stops
short.
STARSKY
On second thought, it is a lot warmer in here....
He backs away from the door, which is pushed
open by Benson , who enters quickly and slams it
shut with one hand. The other is holding Hutch's pistol, and Benson looks cold, nasty, and
quite
ready to use it.
FADE OUT
ACT FOUR
FADE IN INTERIOR CABIN DAY
FULL SHOT of scene : Benson holding gun on
Starsky and McCoy, Hutch in bed bandaged past
the point of effective action.
McCoy looks like he's beginning to tire of
uninvited company. He nods toward Benson.
MCCOY
This your friend?
Starsky also nods.
STARSKY
Yeah, that's him.
Benson edges carefully into the room, keeping
them both covered, and a wary eye on Hutch.
BENSON
All right, old man. Just stay quiet and nobody---
MCCOY
Quiet! Listen, sonny, it's gonna take more
than a half-froze sneak thief with a popgun to---
McCoy starts forward; Starsky intercepts him as
Benson brings the gun up.
STARSKY
Hold it, Woody, he'll use it.
McCoy subsides, rebellious. Benson
smiles.
BENSON
You aren't too dumb, for a cop. If you've got
a gun on you, take it out real slow and drop it
on the floor.
Starsky carefully takes his pistol out and lets
it fall.
BENSON
All right, now lean against the table and don't move.
They do so and Benson quickly frisks them,
taking handcuffs and a small knife from Starsky's
back pocket and a surprising array of hardware from McCoy's clothing---fish hooks, half a
screwdriver, a pocketknife, a couple of links of chain---and a skinning knife from his
boot top. He
takes his collection over near the fire, pulling a chair along. Sitting down, he notices
McCoy's
shotgun on a rack over the fireplace. Fairly sure he's disarmed everyone, he tilts the
chair back and
unbuttons his coat.
Hutch moves around so he's able to keep an eye
on Benson and nods inhospitably.
HUTCH
'S the matter, Wally? Did it get too cold under your rock?
Benson aims at Hutch, giving the impression
that he would dearly love to shoot.
BENSON
I should've finished you off before. (turns
to Starsky, McCoy) Go ahead. Try something.
Give me a reason.
He gets no answer, and proceeds to lean back
and study the room. After a few moments Starsky
gets impatient.
STARSKY
Well, now that we're all nice and cozy, what' re you
gonna do?
BENSON
What?
HUTCH
He's right, Wally. What are you going to do
now? There's no place for you to run out here.
(NOTE: Camera has moved so that Benson, seated
at the fireplace, is centered between Starsky
and Hutch, physically in the middle of the verbal crossfire. He isn't consciously aware of
this, but
is uncomfortable; he knows he has nowhere to go and doesn't like being
reminded.)
STARSKY
(continuing)...and now the weather's cleared
up there's gonna be search planes out pretty soon.
HUTCH
And one of 'em will see this place and send out a
ground crew...and here you are...
STARSKY
No place to go.
Benson shifts uneasily on the chair,
defensive.
BENSON
I've still got the gun.
HUTCH
You'll have to sleep sometime, Wally.
He turns on Hutch angrily.
BENSON
And you're gonna sleep a lot sooner if you
don't skit up. And a lot longer.
Hutch relaxes for the moment---he's tired, and
the point has been made, and Benson is no longer
as confident as before.
Benson looks around the room again, spots the
antenna.
BENSON
What's that in here for?
STARSKY
We were thinkin' about having a marshmallow
roast.
Benson ignores him.
BENSON
You haw a radio, old man?
McCoy looks over to Starsky, who
shrugs.
MCCOY
I have one. Can't say for certain it works.
BENSON
How far out does your signal get?
MCCOY
Depends. (a beat)
BENSON
On what?
MCCOY
(shrugs) Clouds. Weather. You'd most likely get
the ranger station down the line.
STARSKY
What is it, Wally, you gonna call home and
let everybody knew you're okay?
Benson shakes his head slowly, quite pleased
with himself.
BENSON
No, cop, not me. You are. You'll call in and tell
them to stop the search planes and send a helicopter
to pick you up. Then, when it gets here, I leave.
If you're real polite I might even leave without
wasting any more bullets.
HUTCH
That's real big of you, Wally.
BENSON
Or I might not. (turns to Starsky) All right. You
two go put up that antenna and get back in here. And
I don't want any tricks---like you said, there's no
place to go. I'll give you half an hour.
MCCOY
Hold on there, sonny. I just got through tellin'
You I don't knew if the radio's gonna work.
BENSON
We'll find out about that when we hook up
the radio. Stop stalling.
Muttering, McCoy puts on his coat.
STARSKY
It might take us a little longer, y'know.
It's kind of cold out.
BENSON
And I might get tired of waiting (nods toward
Hutch) and put another bullet in him. Half
an hour.
Starsky and McCoy head for the door, collecting
the antenna on the way. Hutch looks at his
watch. (a beat) Reacts.
HUTCH
Starsky!
Starsky turns, as does Benson, who's
suspicious. Hutch fumbles with his watch, hooks it on his
right thumb (all that's visible outside the bandage) and holds it up to
Benson.
HUTCH
His watch is broken, remember?
He tosses the watch to Starsky, who nods and
puts it on.
Benson's expression hardens and he motions with the gun.
BENSON
Get moving. You've only got twenty-eight minutes now.
As they leave he goes over and closes the
shutter, then listens for and finally hears footsteps on the
roof. He spots the loaf of bread on the table, picks it up, and looks at Hutch
calculatingly.
BENSON
You wouldn't want to spoil my breakfast, would you?
Hutch regards him bleakly.
Benson shrugs and starts to tear the bread
apart.
DISSOLVE TO: DOBEY'S OFFICE DAY
Dobey's on the phone again with the Park
Service---better news this time, as he seems encouraged.
He has apparently been home for awhile, as he has changed clothes and looks a little more
kept.
DOBEY
Yeah. Heard it on the weather report this morning...
No, don't call me. I'm coming up there.
(pause)
I don't care what you tell em .... Say I'm a stickler
for attendance.
He receives a negative suggestion and
bridles.
DOBEY
I don't care. What do you think I'm going to
do when two of my best men disappear into thin
air?
(pause)
Fine---see you in a couple of hours.
He hangs up. Camera follows as he rises and
collects coat, hat, and scarf (obviously brought with
this in mind) from his coat rack, and leaves.
DISSOLVE; TO: CABIN INTERIOR DAY
Benson is putting the finishing touches on the
knots holding McCoy to one of his chairs. ANGLE
WIDENS to show Starsky straddling a chair that is turned away from the table. He's
handcuffed to
the top bar, hands free enough to use the microphone on the table in front of him. Benson
stands,
picking up the reminder of the rope, and starts toward Hutch.
STARSKY
(heavy with sarcasm) On, yeah, he's real dangerous---
he's gonna jump up and bleed on ya.
McCoy hoots.
MCCOY
Yep, he'll wrestle ya to the ground and beat the
tar outta ya. Better watch it.
Hutch looks around curiously
HUTCH
Me and whose army?
Benson stops, frowning and suspicious, then
decides not to risk it and ties Hutch down. Obviously
unable to get a rope around his right hand, he ties it to his left wrist, then drops it
under the bed,
brings it up around the other side, over the headboard, and ties a noose around Hutch's
neck,
giving him limited freedom of movement as long as he doesn't try to get up or untie
himself.
Hutch watches the elaborate knot-tying for
awhile, intrigued. As Benson finishes up, he looks over
to Starsky.
HUTCH
I think we've got another Boy Scout over here,
Starsk.
STARSKY
He wasn't in my troop.
Scowling Benson returns to the table and,
keeping the gun well out of Starsky's reach, attaches the
radio to a car battery and turns it on..
INSERT of radio---dials light up, sound of
humming gradually replaced by static....
CUT TO: RANGER STATION DAY
MEDIUM SHOT of Dobey standing in front of a
wood-stove and just beginning to warm up. Two
rangers are also in the room, one at a desk near the stave and the other of
f-camera.
DOBEY
Is it always this cold up here?
RANGER SMITH
Only in winter, Captain.
Dobey doesn't appreciate the humor of this, but
does not reply. he's distracted by the radio on the
desk suddenly coming to life.
STARSKY'S VOICE
---day. Can anybody out there hear us? Mayday,
mayday. This is a distress call---
Smith's attention is also caught after the
first "mayday" and he reaches over to turn up the volume.
STARSKY'S VOICE
---we've crashed en route to Los Angeles...
Anybody out there?
DOBEY
Answer that!
Smith has been reaching to do so; he looks at
Dobey curiously.
SMITH
One of your men?
DOBEY
Will you---
He starts to grab the microphone; Smith lifts a
restraining hand and pushes down the "transmit"
switch.
DISSOLVE TO: INTERIOR CABIN DAY
MEDIUM CLOSE on Starsky, sitting at the table
and talking to Smith. ANGLE WIDENS as be
talks.
STARSKY
---here with Mr. McCoy for almost a day now. I'm all
right. Sgt. Hutchinson was shot but he'll be okay.
Our pilot...
He pauses, releasing the switch and frowning at
Benson, who's standing by the fireplace, holding
the pistol on Hutch.
BENSON
Go ahead.
Starsky presses the witch with obvious
reluctance
STARSKY
---our pilot and prisoner are both dead.
SMITH'S VOICE
Sorry to hear it. We have somebody here who'd
like to talk to you.
A crackle of static is replaced by Dobey's
voice.
DOBEY'S VOICE
Starsky? Where the hell have you two been?
Starsky is astonished.
STARSKY
Captain? Where are you?
DOBEY'S VOICE
Here at the ranger station, what do you think? I'm waiting for them to find me a seat on
the
helicopter. What happened?
STARSKY
We blew it. -You're not coming here, are you?
DOBEY'S VOICE
Yeah, I'm coming there. If you're not going to tell
me what's going on, put Hutch on.
Starsky looks to Benson again. Benson shakes
his head. Starsky looks
momentarily perplexed, then picks up the mike again.
STARSKY
Captain, he's sorta tied down right now...
I don't think it'd be very good for him to try to get up.
DOBEY'S VOICE
You sure he's all right?
STARSKY
He was pretty sick yesterday, but he's better...
How long will it be 'til you get here?
DOBEY'S VOICE
Just a minute.... (pause) They say about an hour and
a half. Does Hutch need a doctor?
Starsky looks over to Hutch who immediately
shakes his head---no point in bringing another
person into this mess.
STARSKY
So, he says he'll be okay. Mr. McCoy did a pretty good
job.
DOBEY'S VOICE
Fine. Looks like it's time to go, then. See you
in an Hour.
STARSKY
Okay.
Benson gestures urgently.
STARSKY
Wait a minute, captain. (releases switch) What's
your problem?
BENSON
Tell him your battery's going dead and you'll
have to shut off the set.
STARSKY
Captain? We'll have to turn off the radio for awhile.
Mr. McCoy runs it off a car battery, and it's almost
dead.
There is a volume switch on the
microphone---Starsky surreptitiously turns the gain up full,
contradicting his words.
DOBEY'S VOICE
...Right. The ranger says he knows the place.
See you later.
STARSKY
Okay.
He awkwardly sets the mike back on the table.
Benson disconnects it and puts it on his suitcase,
near the fireplace.
BENSON
That's so you won't get my more funny ideas.
You're just lucky he didn't catch on.
STARSKY
It won't make any difference.
BENSON
What do you mean?
STARSKY
You're not gonna make it. Even if you shot
everybody who shows up, you'll be a sitting
duck. This mountain is like a target, and that
one copter's gonna be right in the middle of it.
BENSON
I'll take that chance. You just shut up and
relax. All of you.
He sticks the gun in his belt. Camera follows
as he strolls over to the stove, pours himself a cup of
coffee, and wanders back to his chair by the fire.
BENSON
Like I said before, you just stay nice and quiet
and I won't have to shoot anybody.
STARSKY
That's nice, Wally. It won't get you my
farther, but it'll sound real good in court.
HUTCH
Yeah, add then you can tell them how sorry
you are that the pilot was killed when you
pulled the trigger.
Benson backhands Hutch, pulls the gun and
points it at him threateningly.
BENSON
Listen, cop, I've had enough of your---
He stops, hearing the slight sound of creaking
as Starsky shifts his weight in the chair, preparing to
move. Looking from one to the other, Benson realizes he's been tricked into turning his
back. He
smiles thinly and returns to the chair.
BENSON
No, that won't work, either. I'm just not
letting you get to me. Just me more hour...
I can wait.
DISSOLVE TO: CABIN INTERIOR DAY
The scene is nearly the same, an indeterminate
time later. Benson is by the fire, sleepy from the
heat and half-dozing. Keeping one eye on him, Starsky catches Hutch's attention and holds
up his
wrists questioningly, mouthing the word "key".
Hutch thinks for a moment, nods, looks toward
his shirt pocket. He tries to reach it but can't---the
rope is too short.
Slowly, trying not to make my noise, Starsky
starts scooting the chair over toward the bed. He's
about halfway past the table when he hears the sound of the helicopter. Both freeze as
Benson
wakes, jumps up, and runs to the window.
HIS PoV: LONG SHOT of a helicopter hovering
over the snow several hundred yards away, in a
clear area. Two men drop out with a bundle of aluminum bars and begin to assemble a
landing
bad.
CUT TO: CABIN INTERIOR
Benson turns to the radio as it starts to
chatter.
DOBEY'S VOICE
Hey, Starsky, you still awake in there?
STARSKY
It's for me.
Benson starts over to get the microphone. As
soon as he's close enough, Starsky lunges backward
off the chair, bringing it up and catching Benson in the solar plexus, knocking him to the
floor.
The gun goes flying.
Trying to get free before Benson, gets up,
Starsky drags the chair over to the bed to try to get the
key from Hutch. He doesn't have time---Benson starts for the gun again. Starsky slams the
chair
into the stove, reducing it to the back only, and dives for Benson. In the course of
keeping him
away from the gun, they both crash into the table and topple it. The radio drops to the
floor.
During the course of the battle, McCoy's
collection of pocket paraphernalia is kicked under the
bed with sufficient energy to bounce it off the far wall.
CLOSE SHOT of Hutch at this point; he notices
what has happened and begins to grope behind
the bed with his free hand.
As Starsky and Benson fight, McCoy keeps
scooting his chair out of the way, looking
progressively more dismayed as his housekeeping is demolished. The battle travels back and
forth
across the room for a minute or two, camera following. Starsky is hampered by the chair
just
enough to prevent a quick victory. The pistol they're both after follows an uneven course
from
near the table, past the stove, until it winds up near the bed.
Benson is knocked on his back near the bed, but
manages to get in a lucky kick that throws
Starsky several feet across the room. As he lands and regains his balance, Benson grabs
the gun.
Starsky freezes.
Sound of a knock on the door.
Benson motions Starsky to answer it. He shakes
his head---Benson can't afford the sound of a
shot. Trapped, Benson raises the pistol.
BENSON
Then you're dead---I've got nothing to lose.
Several things happen at once: Dobey and three
rangers pile in the door, McCoy shouts something
that is inaudible in the din, and there is the sound of a shot, which apparently hits no
one. Benson
drops to the floor.
DOBEY
What the hell--?
He looks at Hutch, who is standing unsteadily
behind Benson. Part of the rope dangles from his
left wrist as he holds up the frying pan with which he has just blunted their semi-escaped
prisoner.
Batch nods toward McCoy.
HUTCH
He's right. It does work a lot better than
aluminum.
The pan then falls, as does Hutch.
FADE OUT
EPILOG
FADE IN EXTERIOR CABIN DAY
Starsky, Dobey, and two rangers are carrying
Hutch to the helicopter on a stretcher. Benson,
handcuffed, is brought up in the rear by the third ranger.
DOBEY
---thought from the way you were talking
something was wrong, but I didn't want to
give you away.
STARSKY
You didn't, but it would've been nice to
know I got through.
DOBEY
I thought it'd be safer to play it straight,
but there was a homing transmitter in the copter
just in case he made it. (a beat) You know, what
really surprises me is that you two didn't
freeze. How'd you manage that?
(Dobey is well-bundled up, but obviously very,
very cold.)
STARSKY
As long as we kept the fire going it wasn't
too bad. I guess the plane's insulated to keep
the heat in up in the air
Dobey nods---sounds reasonable -and Starsky
continues, totally deadpan...
STARSKY
...but I think it was mostly that Bible verse.
Dobey frowns like a musician hearing a clinker.
He is reasonably familiar with the Bible. Starsky
is not---and Starsky does not go around spouting Biblical quotations.
DOBEY
Starsky, there's nothing in the Bible about
freezing to death.
Starsky assumes a lock of utter, guileless
innocence
STARSKY
Sure them is. Listen, when I was a kid, this
guy set up a platform at the end of the street
and started preachin' and one thing I remember
was when he got up, wavin' his arms, and said,
"Friends-"
Starsky waves his arms expansively, imitating
preacher.
STARSKY
"Friends, many are cold---but few are frozen."
CLOSE UP on Dobey. He will hot accept that
Starsky just said what he just heard. He starts to
shake his head.
CUT TO:
CLOSE UP Starsky. A snowball hits the back of
his head and splatters. Camera pulls back quickly
and freezes catching Hutch in the background lowering his arm from the toss.
FADE OUT
THE END