Cops and Robbers - by Pho
part - 01
"PETER!" Strenlich's voice cleared the din of the squad room
without difficulty.
Peter Caine whirled in response to the Chief of Detectives' summons
and barely leaped out of the way in time to avoid the collapse of
the rickety table supporting the precinct's coffeemaker. "DAMN!"
He grabbed for the nearest available material and started mopping
his pants.
A slender hand yanked the cloth away, as an irate female voice
yelped, "PETER, that's my scarf!"
Turning as red as his pants were wet, Peter Caine mumbled an
apology, "Sorry, Jody."
"Thanks a lot Peter. This is silk! It has to be dry-cleaned."
"You dry-clean a scarf?" Peter was open-mouthed with surprise.
"Why not? YOU dry-clean ties."
"Valid point." The young detective conceded, "Bring me the bill,
I'll pay for it."
"Damn right you will." The blond grabbed her purse and left the
squad room. Peter sighed as he watched her leave, then started to
pick up the broken pieces of glass littering the floor.
Broderick wandered over and handed Peter a mop, broom and dustpan,
"It's all yours, Peter. Don't miss any glass."
"You're all heart, Sarge."
"Oh, and the new table, pot, coffee, and, let's see, yep, sugar
and creamer will be a welcome addition to the squad room."
"Sarge, surely you don't expect me to..."
"We all do, Peter, and get a larger pot this time. I hate it when
Blake makes the refills." Kermit didn't miss a stride as he vanished
into his office.
The young detective stared in shock at his 'friends', "B..But,
I didn't, it was..."
"CAINE!" The intensity of the summons grabbed Peter's attention.
"Coming, Chief!" Peter dropped the cleaning supplies and raced
across the room.
Strenlich looked at the young detective's pants, then raised his
eyes to the heavens, "Captain wants you."
Gulping, Peter nodded and headed for Karen Simms' door, desperately
trying to figure out what he'd done this time. Knocking, he winced
as he heard the angry voice call out, "ENTER!"
Bracing himself, Peter opened the door, "You wanted to see me,
Captain?"
"Yes, Detective, you're familiar with the...." Her voice faded
away as she saw his pants and her eyebrows arched. "Interesting."
"The table fell, Captain, but it wasn't my fault and the coffee
pot was full, and there's glass everywhere but I'm going to clean
it all up, as soon as I get out of here." "If I'm still alive,"
he added to himself.
"Yes, well, tell me if you recognize these people?" She thrust a
poor quality security cam shot towards her detective.
Peter stared at the picture for a moment, frowning. "I'm not
sure. It looks like THEM, sort of." His fist clinched involuntarily
as he glared at the image in his hand. The 'them' in question was
a team of thieves, who specialized in jewelry stores and terror.
They'd taken down six stores around town before disappearing completely. That alone would have put them high on the local wanted list, but
they'd killed a civilian in the last hold-up. The novice clerk had started work only that morning. Terrified of the robbers facing her, she'd panicked, knocking over a decorative planter in her efforts to
back away from the man holding the weapon. It had cost her, her life. Detective Peter Caine had been an unwilling witness to the aftermath
of the robbery.
Leaving work early to cash a check for a long weekend, Peter'd
walked past the jewelry store just as the robbers fled, stripping off
their masks as they ran. Barely avoiding taking a bullet himself,
he'd exchanged shots with the robbers, as they raced toward their
get-away car. The driver didn't wait, and the trio of robbers dove
through open windows, to a clean escape. Knowing he'd be unable to
reach the Stealth in time to pursue, Peter locked the tag number into his memory and raced into the store. To his mind he'd been unable to
do anything to help the mortally wounded clerk. The young Shaolin
cop had successfully transferred some of his chi to the dying girl,
allowing her to survive long enough to make it into surgery. She died
on the table less than thirty minutes after she'd arrived in the OR.
Peter's thoughts trailed back to his father's attempt to console him.
"Peter, you gave her the strength to reach the hospital, and the
time for her parents to say good-bye."
His fist slammed into the wall of his father's studio, "They shouldn't have had to say good-bye, Father. She was only twenty."
"Death knows no age, my son. It takes the old, and the young,
alike, without concern."
"Is that supposed to help, Father? More Shaolin 'wisdom'? What
good is my being able to transfer chi, if I can't do it right?"
"You did well, my son. Perhaps, your role was simply to allow her parents their final moments with a living child."
"It wasn't enough, Father, not nearly enough."
Internal Affairs had cleared him of any misconduct in the affair
but the beating he'd taken in the press had left a bitter taste in
his mouth. He wanted these vermin more than he could ever remember
wanting anything in his career. Peter blinked back the tears that
threatened to fall, cleared his throat and looked up to meet Karen
Simms' unwavering eyes.
"W..when?"
"Three days ago. I've received a formal request that you be
temporarily assigned to the case. You're the only one who's ever actually seen this crew, even if it was only briefly."
"Where?"
"San Francisco."
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part - 02 ↑
Peter Caine arrived at the airport two hours before his flight.
Nightmares had plagued what little sleep he'd had, the last one
sending him into his bathroom in a fit of vomiting. Collapsing
onto his sofa, he thought about the previous evening. Kwai Chang
Caine had been summoned to the side of the young emperor, three days
before. The lonely young man had grown weary of his advisors, and
guards, and had requested a visit from the Shaolin. Unfortunately,
his new safe house was many miles from the city. Caine, of course,
had been honored to be invited on such short notice. Peter could
not help but think that HE would have been annoyed, but then he was
not his father. With his father gone, he'd contemplated bypassing
a visit to Chinatown altogether, but quickly vetoed that idea. The
Ancient was not blood kin, but Peter felt obligated to tell the old
man he was leaving town for a while, on business. Besides, he'd
reasoned, Lo Si could tell his father about the trip if, when Caine
returned.
"Lo Si?" Peter knocked briefly before entering the old man's
home.
"Ah, Peter, you are in time for tea." Lo Si was in the process
of pouring two cups as Peter joined him in the living area.
The young detective could only grin, "Master, you are amazing."
"Of course! Cookie?" Lo Si slid a tray of chocolate chip cookies
toward Peter. Laughing the young man took three and joined Lo Si
on the couch.
"Ummm. These are very good. Home-made?"
"Yes," the old man sighed, "Mrs. Woo has decided she has been
a widow long enough."
"So, when's the big day?"
The old one shook a bony finger at the impertinence of the youth,
"It is not polite to tease your elders, Young Caine."
Peter popped a fourth cookie in his mouth, "Who's teasing?"
Lo Si slapped the young detective's hand away from the plate,
then sobered, "You are going away?"
Stunned, Peter stuttered, "Y..yes, M..master. I'm leaving in the
morning, on police business. I, uh, I don't know how long I will be
gone."
The Ancient nodded, "Your father will be returning soon, I will
tell him of your journey."
"P..Pop's coming back?"
"Your father was always returning, Peter, he was only visiting
our young emperor."
"Oh, I know that, Lo Si. I just didn't realize he'd be back so
soon."
The old man let the lie pass, "I will inform your father of your
journey, young Caine."
"Thank you, Master."
His good-bye to Annie had been another sore spot for Peter. Annie
Blaisdell was also out of town, visiting her oldest daughter and her
family. Peter'd called until almost midnight, but the answering
machine was the only voice he'd heard. Disappointed, he'd left a
brief message on the recorder and gone to bed, only to be plagued
by the demons of his past.
Peter leaned back against the sofa and resigned himself to wakefulness. Glancing around his living room, he suddenly felt boxed
in. The unusual sensations of claustrophobia almost overwhelmed him.
He rose from the sofa, and gave his luggage one last check, "Might as
well be awake at the airport as here."
Four hours later, he climbed wearily from the small commuter prop
plane, and raced from the D terminal to the A terminal in a frantic
bid to make his connecting flight. "Why the heck can't I ever get a
connection in the same terminal?" He knew that the thought was wasted,
surely there was something in the Tao that prohibited such convenience.
Sliding gratefully into the aisle seat he'd requested, he took the
pillow offered by the stewardess, buckled his seatbelt and braced himself for a long flight. The plane was unusually empty. He had
the entire row of seats to himself. The row across the aisle was also
empty, except for the window seat, which was occupied by a man about
the same age as Peter's father.
As the plane taxied down the runway, Peter's thoughts returned to
his previous stay in San Francisco.
"Sir, why don't you come back and get some food. You're obviously hungry."
"No, it wouldn't be right. I can't take food away from people
who need it."
"You're hungry, why don't you need it?"
He'd met his match in Helen Jones. The feisty retired schoolteacher
had practically dragged him back to the homeless shelter for a decent
meal, a good night's sleep, a job, and sanity. The older woman was
almost as dear to him as Annie Blaisdell. And her family, well, his
friendship with Helen's son Steve was closer than some who were related by blood. Steve's wife, Amanda, was equally dear to the young detective
and Peter was proud to tell anyone who'd listen about his goddaughter, Katy. He smiled suddenly as he realized that Amanda must be close to the end of her pregnancy and that Katy would soon be a big sister.
The dark hair and Asian features of the young stewardess brought
his thoughts back to the girl who'd been killed in the last robbery.
Peter knew he'd been unsuccessful in halting the flow of blood and
as far as he was concerned, he'd failed just as badly in his attempt
to transfer his chi. The dying girl's face hovered in his thoughts.
He desperately tried not to focus on how much the girl resembled M.. "NO! Don't go there." He mentally slapped himself, bringing the
present into focus once more. He took the breakfast tray from the smiling stewardess, thanked her and turned all his energies on determining what he was eating.
Finishing the meal, he handed the same stewardess the empty tray,
and settled down to try to sleep, praying all the while that his
latest nightmares would stay away for a while.
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part - 03 ↑
Steve Jones poured himself a large mug of coffee, gulped down
a sizable amount of the hot brew, and began to choke and sputter.
Amanda sighed heavily, and nixed the latest brand of decaf from her
shopping list. "That bad?" she asked, almost sympathetically.
"This, this is the worst, yet!" he groused as he poured the
remainder of the liquid down the drain. "Are you sure I need to
give up caffeine?"
"Not anymore," she thought. Aloud she responded, "The doctor
recommended it at your last physical. Your blood pressure was up
and he didn't really think twelve cups of coffee a day was good,
even for YOUR hyperactive personality."
"Six."
"What?"
"It was six cups of coffee, not twelve."
"Steven Michael Jones, you know very well that each of those mugs
you call a cup, holds at least two 'real' cups." Her eyes flashed
in anger as she absently rubbed her back.
The detective was no fool, he'd learned with Katy that one never
wins an argument with a pregnant woman, particularly one the size
of a condominium. Raising his hands in mock surrender, he replied,
"Sorry, darling. It's just that these jewelry store heists are making
me a little edgy, and no caffeine is making it worse." He moved
forward and began to gently massage his wife's lower back.
"Lower, oh, there! It's been six weeks since they started. Don't
you have ANY clues?"
"We got lucky in the last hold-up. The store was replacing its
old cameras with new ones. One of the old cameras was still active,
even though it was hanging out of the wall. The thieves thought
they'd killed all the pictures, but missed that one."
"Then you have their photos. Steve, that's great!"
He sank dejected into a kitchen chair, "I wish. They wore stocking
masks, of all things. We only got a distorted image."
"I'm sorry, Steve." She hesitated briefly, "How's the manager
doing?"
"Still in a coma. I have no idea why they pistol-whipped the
old man. He may yet die and the doctors aren't sure he'll ever come
out of the coma." He brightened, "We do have a slight edge, though."
"What?" Mandy laid a gentle hand on his arm.
"The descriptions combined with the bad photos, have almost matched
a gang of thieves that were operating in the mid-west. I'm told that
they vanished after they killed a clerk."
"Oh, God! That's an edge?"
"No, seems a cop was passing the store just as the robbers ran out.
They removed their masks as they left the store. The artists' sketches
from his descriptions are what we're passing out now. AND he's arriving
here later this morning. I'm told he's been temporarily assigned to
help us catch these creeps. Hopefully before anyone else is hurt or
killed."
"What's his name?"
"No idea. The powers that be haven't broadcast his name or description, even to us."
"Why on earth not?"
Steve frowned, "I'm not sure, but I think there's a leak in the
chain of command. The press has had too many details that we've
wanted kept secret. I'm guessing this guy is to be a 'secret
weapon', so to speak. I'm supposed to pick him up at the airport
at ten."
"How will you find him?'
He shrugged, "I'm supposed to get that answer at the airport."
***************
Peter slept fitfully, unable to get comfortable in the small
spaces known as seats in coach. The fact that he was able to
sleep at all spoke volumes about his exhaustion. He moaned quietly,
then snapped awake with a violent start. He glanced, wild-eyed
around him, then relaxed. It had just been a nightmare, another
damn nightmare. The dying girl's face had been seared into his
memory the moment he'd pulled her into his arms. Her eyes had
fluttered open only briefly, reflecting her pain, confusion and
fear. He'd locked eyes with her for a short moment as he passed
on his chi. She'd calmed in his embrace and he was almost sure
he'd been able to provide some comfort to the girl. "At least,"
he thought bitterly, "I could do that right."
Sighing deeply, he checked his watch and decided to watch the
inflight movie. As he unwrapped the headset, he once again wondered
about the scarcity of information about his new 'assignment'. He
didn't know where he would be working, or even, who he would be
working with. For that matter, he didn't know who was meeting him
at the airport. One thing was certain, however, Steve, Amanda and
Helen would be surprised. He'd call them as soon as he was able.
Smiling, he finally admitted to himself that he really wanted to
see Katy's face when he handed her the Millenium Beanie Baby that
Donnie Double D had managed to scrounge up. The little snitch had
even sworn that it was NOT a counterfeit. His last conversation with
the child had revealed a desire for the little bear and 'Uncle Peter'
had been determined to come through for his little angel. The start
of the movie signaled the end of all thought, good or bad. Peter
settled back into his seat, and allowed the comedy to drive away his
shadows for a time.
***************
"You were told not to move." The man brandished the shotgun in
front of the terrified patrons of Wong's Chinatown Jewelry Store.
His cohorts finished filling their bags with jewelry and headed for
the door.
A second male voice hissed, "Come on. It's time."
"You're right. It is time." Without a word or a hint of hesitation,
the gunman fired pointblank into the group of people huddled together
in the center of the room. Three collapsed, bleeding to the floor as
the trio fled toward the getaway car.
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part - 04 ↑
Steve Jones cursed to himself as travel once again slowed to a
crawl. Fortunately, he'd given himself some leeway in getting to
the airport, but he was definitely running out of time. For a
moment, he thought of using his siren to bypass the traffic, but
common sense, and the thought of what his Captain would say, changed
his mind. He huffed a deep breath, and settled back to 'enjoy' the
wait.
************
Peter looked up from his magazine as the pilot's voice came over
the intercom, "Ladies and Gentlemen, we've arrived at San Francisco
International Airport only a few minutes behind schedule. Local time
is 10:10. Unfortunately, we've been put into a holding pattern around
the airport. We expect to have you on the ground in about twenty
minutes."
"Give or take an hour." Peter stifled a laugh as the disgusted
businessman in the seat behind him interpreted the pilot's announcement
for his fellow passengers. The young detective reset his watch to
local time, leaving his national pager on his home time. He hated
wearing a pager but he'd been working a couple of reasonably high
profile cases and the Captain had made it quite clear that she wanted
to be able to reach him as quickly as possible. Thus he was not only stuck with a pager, but the loaner was a large alpha-pager, that somehow seemed larger than the pouch his father always carried. Wishing desperately that he could stretch his legs, or anything else for that matter, he settled back to wait some more.
************
Arrival parking continued to be full as Steve circled the airport
for the second time. This time he made sure he did not miss the turn
into short term parking. Leaving his car halfway to China, he ran
for the main entrance. His watch told him that the plane had touched
down thirty minutes before and, not only was he not there to meet the
loaner cop, he still didn't know who he was looking for. In an embarrassing moment of stupidity, his gun set off the security gates.
Grimacing, he pulled his badge and silenced the loud alarm before
reinforcements could arrive. He mumbled a breathless "Sorry" to the
infuriated airport cop and raced off to meet his charge.
To his relief, the passengers were deplaning as Steve arrived at
the gate. The young detective checked with the desk to see if he
had a message. The pretty girl in the airline uniform shook her
head and turned to help the next person in line. Puzzled, Steve
started to search the crowd for the cop, hoping he'd be able to pick
out the man by instinct.
************
Peter was trapped behind a three hundred pound man who'd insisted
on carrying on ALL his luggage. Not only did he not fit in the aisles,
neither did his baggage. Peter strongly suspected that neither of
the carry on bags would have met the size criteria, but fortunately for
the other passenger, and unfortunately for those behind him, the plane
was lightly populated.
************
A clean-cut older man emerged from the tunnel. Steve was just
about to approach the 'possible' cop, when the man was bowled over
by a child screaming, "GRANDFATHER!"
"OK," Steve thought, "So much for instinct." His eyes widened as
he caught a glimpse of a familiar head behind a really large, slow moving man. "Peter? Oh, my God, I should've known. PETER!"
"STEVE?" Peter's smile was as broad as the man's rear in front
of him. Peter managed to escape entrapment in the tunnel and was
enthusiastically hugged by his friend.
"YOU'RE the cop?" Steve asked with delight, then frowned and
punched his friend in the shoulder, "Why didn't you let us know you
were coming?"
"I got the word at the last minute and wanted to surprise all of
you." Peter laughed enthusiastically, "How're Mandy, Katy, Helen?"
"Just great! Mandy's a little moody cause she can't reach her
toes but they're all..." He grimaced as his pager went off. Peter
grinned as his friend glared at the equally hated device and moved
quickly toward a phone. The Shaolin cop watch his friend's face
with concern as the other detective returned the phone to its cradle.
"Problems?" Peter asked, fearing the answer.
"To quote a friend of yours, 'Oh, Yeah'. There's been another
heist, but now it's gone further than that; one dead, two critical.
We need to go now." He looked at the sports bag in Peter's hand,
"I don't suppose that's all you brought."
"Not hardly, but I'll leave my luggage unclaimed. It'll take too long to retrieve it. The important stuff is in this bag." Peter
mentally congratulated himself for putting Millenium in the carry
on. "Let's move."
************
News media had descended upon the murder scene like vultures on
road-kill. Steve was forced to park several blocks away. He then
led Peter through several back alleys and at least two stores to
reach the Chinatown jewelry store.
Peter watched helplessly as his friend worried about the victims.
Although Steve would have been concerned no matter who the injured
and dead were, this robbery had struck too close to home. Charlie
Wong was a regular contributor to Helen's Chinatown homeless shelter
and the two older people had been friends for years. Steve and
Peter dodged the press and interested onlookers to duck under the
crime scene tape. The ambulances had already left for the hospital
but the coroner's wagon was a grim reminder that not everyone had
survived this hold-up.
Steve's eyes surveyed the chaos of the scene and finally landed
on the object of his search, Charlie Wong. The old man was visibly
shaken, the Oriental calm shattered in the midst of tragedy. Peter
followed Steve as the young detective approached the man, "Mr. Wong?"
It took a moment for the older man to register the presence of
the younger ones. "Steven, you are here?"
"Yes, Mr. Wong."
"Why? Why did he shoot, Steven? The others had the jewelry. No
one was moving against them. Why?"
"I..I don't know, sir, but I promise you, I, we'll find out."
The traumatized man never heard the young cop's words, "He just
said, 'It is time' and fired. I don't understand, Steven, time for
what?"
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part - 05 ↑
The morning newspaper landed on the bed with a satisfying thud,
"Front page AGAIN! And photos this time, in color."
One of the occupants opened his eyes lazily and reached for the
paper. Sliding into a sitting position, he concentrated on the article,
savoring each detail of their escapades.
"Would you hold it down, I'm trying to get my beauty sleep?" The female voice was muffled, coming from underneath her pillow. She
yelped as the pillow was jerked from her head and slammed down on her
back.
"Won't help, Becca."
"Shut up, Sid!" She angrily flung the pillow at his head.
Dodging, he laughed, "I'm gonna wake up Mark. We oughtta celebrate."
Sid left the room, still laughing loudly.
Becca glared at his retreating back, "God, he's stupid!"
Carl never lifted his head from the paper, "Yeah, but he's so easy
to manage."
She snuggled into his shoulder, "Anything good in there?"
Becca found herself unceremoniously dumped to the floor as the
furious man leaped out of bed. "Mark! Sid! Get in here now!"
Sid popped immediately back into the room, followed more slowly
by the still sleepy blond. "What's wrong Carl?"
The angry man glared at his partners, "Did you look at the photo?"
Puzzled, Sid responded, "Yeah, I saw it, Carl. I pointed it out
to you, remember?"
"IDIOT! Did you LOOK at the photo inside the paper?"
"Just spit it out, Carl. Sid will never catch on." Mark's voice
contained a hint of amusement as he spoke.
Carl jerked the paper into the air. Snapping it open, he pointed
to an image captioned with 'Store owner Charlie Wong and two unidentified police officers'. "Recognize anyone?"
Sid and Mark stared for a moment at the picture, then Mark said
carefully, "Isn't that the cop from..."
"Yes, it is." Carl spoke through clenched teeth.
"What's he doing here?" Sid asked curiously. Becca moaned and
lay back down on the bed.
Carl took a deep breath before he answered, "Well, if I had to
guess, I'd say he was looking for US!" Carl moved forward suddenly
and slammed Mark into the wall, "I told you we should kill him before
we left town. He's the only one who's ever seen me, us."
Mark gulped, "I..I'm sorry, Carl. I just thought that killing a
cop...."
"Well, you were WRONG! He's HERE. He can ID us, gentlemen. What
do you say now?"
Becca smiled up from the bed. Reaching for Carl's hand, she stroked
it gently, "I think you kill him. Come back to bed, baby. Please?"
She trembled with anticipation, sex with Carl was sooo much better
when he was angry.
Glancing down at his lover, Carl grinned. "Mark, Sid, I suggest
you find out where he is. He's a loose end that needs to be tied up,
quickly. Now leave!"
*************
"Goddammit to HELL!" Steve was livid, flinging the newspaper
down on the kitchen table.
All eyes turned to him, but Katy was the first to speak, "Daddy,
was that two bad words or one real bad one?"
Peter concealed a laugh as the little girl leaned her head back
against his shoulder. Since his arrival the night before, the child
had followed him everywhere. The guest room had quickly replaced
his hotel accommodations and Peter had been quick to notify Karen
Simms of his new living arrangements.
"What? I'm sorry, pumpkin." Steve reached for his wallet. "It
was really one real bad word and one bad word."
"YES!" The child's enthusiasm only added to Peter's confusion.
Noticing their friend's reaction, Mandy laughed, "We have a rule,
Peter. No cursing. Bad words put a dollar in the 'word' jar and
real bad words put five dollars in the jar. When there's enough
in it, we do something special as a family."
Steve sighed, "So far, I'm the only contributor."
"Uh Uh, Daddy, Momma had to put two dollars in yesterday."
"Tattletale. Go brush your teeth and put your dress on. The
bus will be here in a few minutes." Mandy pulled the reluctant
child out of Peter's lap and pushed her toward the stairs.
"Can't I stay home with Uncle Peter?"
"Uncle Peter's got to work, baby girl. He'll be back at dinner
time. Now mind your mother."
"Yes, sir." The child raced up the stairs, leaving all the
grownups wishing for such energy.
"Word jar?" Peter asked curiously, "Guess I'll have to be careful.
What prompted this?"
"A string of words Katy picked up at school, a couple of months
ago." Mandy sighed, "Helen was quite shocked."
Peter laughed, "That bad?"
"YES!" The young mother smiled at her friend. "Daddy had a
long talk with her when he got home that night. Grounded her for
a week, without TV."
Steve sighed, "Yeah, why do I always get punishment duty anyway?"
His wife smiled, "Cause you do it so well." Ignoring his grimace,
she went on, "Any rate, we decided to reinforce cursing not being
a good thing to do by starting the 'word' jar."
Steve spoke softly, to avoid little ears, "Of course, it only
counts if SHE'S around, thank God."
"What only counts if who's around, Daddy?" The child appeared
around the corner, "Momma, these buttons won't go."
Mandy quickly straightened the buttons on the rose colored dress
as Steve said firmly, "None of your business, Katherine."
"Katy, hurry, I see the bus down the street."
The eight year old gave a quick hug and kiss to every adult in
the kitchen then grabbed her books and made a beeline for the door.
She paused, hand on the knob, then turned to look at the adults
in the room, "Uncle Peter, just so you'll know. Daddy's not always
mad when he says 'Katherine'. Sometimes," she grinned knowingly,
"Sometimes, he's just been talking 'bout me. Bye!" The child
vanished through the door before anyone could respond.
Steve could only stare stunned as his daughter disappeared onto
the bus while Peter and Mandy dissolved into fits of laughter. The
exasperated father looked at his wife and friend, then shook his
head and grinned, "That child..." He caught sight of the paper
again and frowned, "D.. I almost forgot. Check out page seven."
Mandy moved to stand behind Peter as the young detective fumbled
with the pages. He gasped as he saw the picture with Mr. Wong. Mandy
looked confused, "OK, I give. It's a picture of you and Peter with
poor Mr. Wong. What's the problem?"
"Mandy, I saw the thieves back home."
"Right and?"
"They also saw me."
"OK." She still looked puzzled, then her eyes widened, "OH!"
"We better go in. They left town when I saw them the first time.
I hope they don't run again. I want these scum."
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part - 06 ↑
Peter's eyes widened as Steve pulled his Ford into the parking
lot of the Chinatown precinct. The office building was old, older
even than the ancient monstrosity housing the 101st. The main
difference he spotted was that this building had been built by an
architect with a flare for design. Steve turned to speak and saw
Peter eyeing the building.
"Great, isn't it?"
"Yeah, is the inside as nice?"
"You'll see in a few minutes."
The pair exited Steve's red Taurus and climbed the stairs to
the front entrance. Peter was chattering non-stop about how great
it was the way some areas held onto their history when his jaw
dropped to the floor. Steve started to laugh, "Hit me that way
the first time I saw it, too."
Peter openly gaped at the spectacle before him. While the
Chinatown precinct's exterior was late 1890's, having been one of
the structures to survive the great San Francisco earthquake of
1906, its interior was strictly 1990's. Glass bricks separated
the main reception area from the rest of the building. Steve pushed
Peter's jaw back in place, then spoke to the guard at the door.
"Hi, Tom, this is Peter Caine. He's an out of town cop on loan to
us to catch these jewelry store bandits. Here's the paperwork on
his weapon."
The older man smiled, "Nice to meet you. Hope you can do something
with these assholes." Without waiting for Peter to reply, he turned
his attention back to Steve, "Captain left word that he was to be
given a temporary id. Take him to Kevin but watch out. Tax season's
over and Suzy's been celebrating again."
Steve smiled then ushered Peter around the security check. Peter
frowned, "Metal detectors?"
"Yeah, sign of the times. Had a crazy get in here a few years
ago, with a 22. No one killed, thank God, but one of the secretaries
took a bullet in the shoulder."
"Poor girl."
"Guy."
"Huh?"
"Peter, this is San Francisco. The secretary was male, and quite
good. He's since become a court reporter." He stopped outside a
door labeled Photo Lab. "This is where the id's are made but Kevin
also does the mug shots. It's hard to tell the difference sometimes."
"The guy at the door said to watch out. Watch out for what?"
Steve grinned broadly, "Oh, Kevin's wife Suzy's a tax accountant.
Every year on April 16, she goes into celebration mode which means
that Kevin usually doesn't get a lot of sleep, for one reason or
another."
Peter started to laugh but was loudly shushed by his friend,
"Unless you want your id to look like you're on the ten most wanted
list, Peter, we both need to be perfectly serious when we go in."
************
"Lacey, line one."
"Who is it?"
"Some nut complaining about those robbery photos in the paper
today."
"Special, why give 'em to me?"
"Cause you wrote the story on the jewelry story robbery, stupid."
"Great, thanks." Picking up the phone the young journalist
quickly said, "Can I help you?"
["I certainly hope so. Are you responsible for my picture
being in the paper this morning?"]
"I'm not sure. Who are you?"
["Name's Martin Alberts. If you were going to put my picture in
the paper, the least you could do is put my name in too."]
"Which picture are you referring to?"
["Why the one on page seven, of course, I was one of the men
comforting poor Mr. Wong.]
"Sir, are you a cop?"
["No I'm not. That's another thing you have wrong. I ought to
sue."]
"Mr. Alberts, I can assure you that you were not in that photo."
["Humph. The caption says 'unidentified'. Well, I'm telling you
that the guy on the right was me."]
"Sir, we didn't have the names before we went to press, but the
gentleman on the right is Steve Jones, Chinatown precinct and the
other man is Peter Caine, temporarily assigned to the Chinatown
precinct to work with Jones."
["It certainly looks like me. Are you sure?"]
"Yes sir, I'm quite sure."
["Oh. I'm sorry I wasted your time."] The line went suddenly dead.
Lacey stared for a moment at the number on his caller id box. "Marcy?"
"Yeah Joe?"
He quickly wrote down the number and passed it to the young woman.
"This number didn't have a name attached. Can your 'friend' downtown
find out where the call came from?"
She smiled, "No problem. When do you need it?"
"No rush. It just seemed a little strange to me. Tomorrow's
fine."
************
Peter followed Steve through rows of double cubicles. Low cube
walls provided each work station with a separate feel, while leaving
the area open for easy communication with fellow workers. Steve
introduced Peter to each person on his aisle, then plopped wearily
into his chair. Motioning Peter to the extra chair in his cube, he
said, "Well, that's some of them out of the way, at least."
"Huh?"
"Introductions, my friend, you've got another, oh, twenty or so
to go yet."
"Terrific..."
"JONES - Captain Heller wants you, and your buddy, yesterday."
Steve leaned back in his chair and shouted, "On the way, Chief."
Peter laughed, "What - no fancy intercoms?"
"Yeah, but we seem to like the traditional methods better. You
know, bull horns, carrier pigeons, that sort of thing. Better not
keep the Captain waiting."
A heavy shock of salt and pepper gray hair was leaning back in
a chair behind a standard executive workstation desk. The phone
he held appeared to be implanted in his ear.
"Yes, Commissioner, No Commissioner. We are... Yes, Commissioner.
Three days... thank you, sir. I'm sure... yes, sir, shutting up...
Thank you Commissioner."
The two young detectives exchanged nervous glances as the obviously
frustrated man hung up. He turned and glared at the two men in front
of him. "Peter Caine, isn't it?"
"Yes, sir."
"Welcome, your Captain has told me a great deal about you."
"Uh, she has?" Peter moaned inwardly, wondering what Karen Simms
had chosen to say.
"Yes, she has," Captain Heller emphasized every word, "Now down to
business. That was the Commissioner, gentlemen. We have three days
to stop these jewelry store heists, then he brings in the FBI."
Steve spoke up quickly, "Three days! Sir, how can he do that?"
"Once Caine here positively id's these jokers, then they've crossed
state lines.
"I understand that, Captain, but three days! I realize that the
press has been hounding him on this case but he's held up much better
in the past. What's different this time?"
Both young cops blanched at Captain Heller's next words. "The
second victim died thirty minutes ago and the third's taken a turn
for the worse. She isn't expected to make it through the day."
----------------------------------------------------------------------
part - 07 ↑
"Well?" Sid nervously twirled a key chain as he waited for the
answer.
"Got it. Steve Jones, Chinatown precinct and our visiting cop
finally has a name, Peter Caine. We left town so fast I never did
know who the guy was and stop rattling that THING!"
Sid quickly dropped the keys into his pocket, "Let's go tell
Carl."
"Are you nuts Sid? Carl and Becca are, well, they're busy."
"Doing what?"
"Surely you can't be THAT stupid!" Mark glared at the other man
with undisguised disgust.
"I am not...OH!"
"See. You can learn." Mark quickly looked through the phone
book. "Whoa - look at all the Joneses. We'll never find him in
there, but come to think of it, he's probably got an unlisted number."
"Well, how do we find him?"
Mark suddenly snapped his fingers, "IDIOT!"
"Look, I'm beginning to think..."
"Not you this time, me. We don't have to find him. We let him
find us."
"Are you NUTS?"
"Hear me out. We need to wax the Caine character right?"
"Right." Confusion was evident in Sid's voice.
"From what the reporter said, Jones and Caine are working together
on this case so if an anonymous informant calls in a tip...."
"Oh, I get it, they'll go where we want them to go. How're we
gonna get an informant to call, Mark?"
"God help me. Sid, Becca's gonna to the calling."
"Oh. What's she gonna say?"
"I haven't made that part up yet. Come on. Let's go talk to
Carl and Becca."
"But you said to leave them alone."
"That was before."
"Before what?"
"Jesus - before we had a plan."
****************
"Jones, line one. Some lady wants to talk to one of the cops
in the newspaper photo."
"Just a minute, Peter." Steve grabbed the phone, "Jones."
["Detective Jones, my name is Clarissa Rogers. I was shopping
across the street from Wong's Jewelry store yesterday but left
before the robbery. I didn't even realize until later that I was
just minutes away from being there when those awful people left."]
"Yes, ma'am. How can I help you?" Steve shrugged at Peter's
questioning gaze.
["Well, the TV reports said three men in black committed this
crime. Detective, there were three men in black in a car outside
the store as I was leaving the boutique where I'd been shopping.
There was a fourth man behind the wheel of the car."]
Steve Jones sat bolt upright in his chair, "Can you come in to
the precinct and..."
["I'm sorry, Detective, but I just don't have the leave time.
Yesterday was my day off. Unless I can give my boss a note or
something from the police that I've really helped them with an
investigation, he won't let me off without docking my pay."]
"We could come by your home after work, ma'am." Steve was
beating a steady rhythm on the desk with his pencil, while Peter
hovered around him mouthing "WHAT!"
["That would be lovely, thank you so much. OH! I have an idea.
I get an hour for lunch. Could you meet me somewhere and I can
at least give you some information?"]
Steve's voice registered his excitement, "Thank you, Ms. Rogers.
Where can we meet you?"
["We?]
"Yes, my partner will be coming along."
[Oh, was he in the newspaper, too?"]
"Yes, we both were."
["That's nice. I usually eat lunch on clear days in Washington
Square Park. Why don't I find a bench near Union and Stockton? I'm
wearing a red business suit and have brown hair."]
"That will be fine, Ms. Rogers. Noon?"
[11:30 will be better for me, if that's all right?"]
"11:30 it is. Thank you again." Steve hung up the phone and let
out a loud "YES!"
"What! WHAT? Steve, you better tell me quick."
"Chill, Peter, my friend. We have a witness who saw three men
in black in a car BEFORE the robbery. A four man was behind the
wheel. We're meeting her at 11:30." Steve whirled in a circle in
his chair.
"If her descriptions match mine, then we're right on target.
And if she can remember the car, that could be a major break!"
"Only if it matches the last car description we got. They
could be stealing cars just to use, then doing a dump and burn
on them."
"True, but let's hope for the best. What do we do now?"
Steve's mood sobered quickly, "I need to pay a courtesy call
on the victims' families. You know, to let them know we're doing
all we can to get these assholes." He paused, "You don't have to
go with me."
Peter nodded in understanding, "I'll go with you Steve. If we'd
been able to stop them at home, those people would be alive and
you wouldn't have to be making these calls at all." He didn't add
what he was thinking, "If only I'd been able to stop them."
****************
Becca burst into laughter as she entered the door of the dingy
apartment. She'd taken the bus to an office building across the
street from the park in order to make the phone call. Carl had
refused to let her call from anywhere else for fear the cops would
trace the call. "It worked like a charm. The moron bought it
hook, line and sinker. BOTH of them will be there."
Carl swept her into his arms and gave her an impassioned kiss,
"Oh, no, my dear. It was your acting abilities that sold the cop."
Mark laughed, "Great, a two for the price of one special."
"I don't get it, I thought we were gonna kill Caine, not sell
him something."
Three irritated voices yelled, "SID!" at the top of their lungs.
Carl continued quietly, "We're gonna kill both of them, stupid."
His attention was grabbed by the woman kissing his neck. "That
should, uh, send a message, uh, that we..we're..."
Mark dragged Sid from the room, as Carl and Becca dropped onto
the bed, again.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
part - 08 ↑
The meeting with the family of the first victim proved tougher
than the two experienced detectives had anticipated. The old man
had died instantly, a bullet shattering his skull. His wake was
just beginning as the young cops arrived, the closed coffin a grim
reminder that a last 'viewing' of the deceased would not be possible.
The mass of vehicles in the driveway and on the street almost
dissuaded Steve and Peter from attempting to speak with the widow.
A sudden opening in parking convinced them it was fated that they
go inside. Steve knocked on the door and braced himself for the
ordeal to come.
A young priest opened the door slowly. Frowning at the two men,
he asked, "You're not reporters, are you?"
Steve quickly flashed his badge, "No, I'm Steven Jones and this
is Peter Caine from the Chinatown precinct. W..We're trying to
stop these a..killers."
The priest stood firmly rooted in the door, "Mrs. O'Brien is not
up to questions, gentlemen."
Peter broke in quickly, "No, Father, you misunderstand. We wish
to offer our condolences for the loss of her husband." He didn't add
his fear that she might not want to see the man whose failure had cost
her husband his life.
"Ah, yes. Please come in. Your help will be most appreciated."
The two men glanced at each other in confusion, then Steve responded,
"I'm afraid we don't understand."
"Mrs. O'Brien wants to see her husband one last time." He glanced
over his shoulder, "I was hoping you could persuade her otherwise."
Peter briefly patted Steve's shoulder as they were allowed into the house.
The O'Brien visitation had taken nearly forty minutes, but Peter
had finally convinced the grieving woman that her husband would not
want to be seen as he was. Driving away from the home, Peter said
sadly, "That was rough, she looked so, so lost."
"Yeah, I didn't know what to say. You, however, were great."
"Thanks, Pop may be rubbing off, after all. Where now?"
"Don't have an address on the second victim yet. Do you want
to risk the hospital? The third victim's still alive, for now."
Peter sighed, "'Want to' is not the right phrase, 'Need to' is
more like it. Let's go."
The young cops arrived at the hospital depressed and on edge.
The third shooting victim was a young woman, mid-twenties. The
nursing staff directed Steve and Peter towards the small meditation
room outside of the critical care unit. Peter froze as he followed
Steve through the door. A young man sat in a wooden rocker, quietly
humming an out-of-tune lullaby to the toddler in his lap. The little
boy wriggled restlessly in his father's arms even as his eyes struggled
to stay open. Steve introduced both himself and Peter to the young
father.
The man said nothing for a few moments more as his child finally
drifted off. Never varying the rocking motion, he said, "She's
dying, you know."
"Yes, sir. We're, we're very sorry."
He seemed not to hear, "We were trying to give Joey a little
brother or sister. Didn't want him to be an only child, you know.
Now, he'll be an only child without a mother. Oh, God, Emmie!"
His voice choked with sobs and he struggled to control them. His
pain almost overwhelmed the detectives as he met their eyes, "You'll
catch them, won't you?"
"Yes, sir. We'll catch them."
He simply nodded, then looked away in obvious dismissal as he
snuggled the sleeping child more tightly into his arms. The two
detectives crept quietly from the room. Peter paused at the door.
Looking back he no longer saw a stranger, but his father in similar
circumstances, holding the long vigil while his wife lay dying.
"Yes, sir," he whispered, "We'll stop them."
****************
Becca quickly gave herself the once-over in the mirror. The red
business suit fit perfectly and her short curly brown hair was styled
just right for the role she was to play. Sliding on the designer
glasses, with fake lenses, she gave Carl one last passionate kiss
as they joined Sid and Mark in the hall. It was almost time for
her star performance.
****************
Peter was unusually quiet as they left the hospital. Steve watched
his friend in silence for a moment, then asked, "Peter, want to talk
about it?"
The Shaolin cop looked down at his hands then said, "I'm sorry,
Steve."
"About what?" The San Francisco cop was more than a little
confused.
"If I'd caught them back home, you wouldn't be going through
this. THEY wouldn't be going through this."
"Peter, this was NOT your fault. Good as you are, you can't
stop all the bad guys. There're just too many."
"But..."
"NO, Peter. No misplaced guilt. We simply do not have the time
to waste on it."
The shocked Shaolin cop stared at his friend, "W..What?"
"It's almost 11:15. We've got to get to the park." To himself
Steve added, "We'll deal with misplaced guilt after we catch these
scumbags."
It took ten of the fifteen minutes to get to the park and another
five to locate the brunette in the red suit. Recognition swept her
face as they walked down the sidewalk toward a bench near the street.
"Mrs. Rogers?" Steve called across the square.
She waved, rose and went to meet them. Steve picked up his pace
as Peter's slowed. Something was wrong. Peter's eyes scanned the
crowds and traffic as his best friend closed in on the potential
witness. As Steve reached out to take her hand, Peter suddenly
screamed, "Steve, trap!" Throwing himself toward his friend, he
barely noticed as the young woman in red flung herself away from
the cops. All he had eyes for were the shotguns aimed in their direction
from a nearby car window.
The blasts were accompanied by the screams of nearby pedestrians,
scattering for safety wherever possible. The screech of tires indicated
the retreat of the shooters, and Peter quickly pulled himself off of
his friend. "Damn it. I should have known." Disgust was replaced
with horror as he saw the blood on his hands. Screaming "STEVE!" at
the top of his lungs, he ripped Steve's cell phone from his pocket, dialed in a frantic 'officer needs assistance," then pulled his young friend into his arms and desperately attempted to stop the bleeding.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
part - 09 ↑
"What's taking so long?" Tears streamed down Peter Caine's face
as he held his friend. He'd managed to get the bleeding under control,
but had found no exit wound. Steve's breathing was labored and Peter
suspected that one lung had collapsed. The Shaolin cop forced himself
to relax as he concentrated on passing life-sustaining chi to his
friend.
"Sir, sir, please sir, we need to treat him. You'll have to let
go." The young paramedic forced Peter's hands from Steve's body.
Turning to her partner, she said, "Pulse, weak and thready, let's get
an IV started." She started to speak to Peter, then frowned, "Sir,
are you all right? You're very pale."
"I...I'm fine, just see to my partner, my friend. Pl..please
don't let him die." Peter sank slowly to the ground, nervously
watching for any sign of movement from Steve. The paramedics worked
swiftly to stabilize the injured cop. Soon, but not soon enough for
his worried friend, Steve was loaded into the ambulance for transport.
The young paramedic physically blocked Peter from climbing into the
back with Steve.
"Sir, you cannot ride back here."
"He's my partner!"
"Then let us help him. We have to transport now." Pushing Peter
backwards with one hand, she slammed the door shut. The stunned
detective backed away as the ambulance disappeared without him.
A middle-aged patrolman who'd spent as much time in the donut
shop as he had on patrol, grabbed Peter's arm. "Detective Caine,
sir, Captain Heller said he'd get Detective Jones' mother and meet
you at the hospital. He assumed you'd go get his wife."
Horror replaced the shock in Peter's eyes, "Oh, God, Mandy. I'll
have to tell her. Captain Heller's gone for Helen?"
The older cop gave the shaken young man a sympathetic pat on the
back, "Yes. I'm sorry, son, but it'll be easier coming from you."
Peter took a deep breath, "I..I know. I'll go get her. I, uh,
I..." He turned to look helplessly at the local cop, "I don't know where they're taking him. I..I don't even know how to get to any
of the hospitals around here."
The other man looked surprised, then said, "Damn I'm getting old.
You're that out of town cop that's helping with this gang of jewel
thieves, aren't you?"
Peter nodded slowly as he ran his fingers nervously through his
hair.
"Son, I'm Harry Matthews. Get in. I'll take you where you need
to go." He eyed Peter's blood-covered clothing with dismay, "But
first we need to get you cleaned up."
***********
Amanda Jones stood in her front yard, surveying the beginnings of
the landscaping with satisfaction. Between her job, volunteering at
the shelter and keeping up with Katy and Steve, she'd had no time to
do anything more than a few window boxes of annuals every year. The
shrubs in front of the house were fine, but she dearly loved the
vibrant colors of the perennials she found in the catalogs. This
pregnancy had been a blessing in more ways than one. Steve had finally taken the time to till the beds that she'd wanted for so long. "Now,"
she sighed, "if I can just get him to plant the rest of the flowers."
She rubbed her protruding belly as the occupant elbowed its way
into a better position. The problems she'd had early on seemed to
have ended but her obstetrician had recommended she stop work early.
Smiling, she spoke lovingly, "Not quite three more months little one,
then we'll work on the plants."
The sound of a car pulled her attention toward the street. They
lived at the end of a cul-de-sac, with very little traffic except
for the standard early morning and late afternoon rush. Mandy looked
puzzled as the patrol unit slowed to a stop in front of her house,
then went ghost-pale as Peter climbed slowly out. He'd removed his
blood-covered jacket, but the expression on his face gave him away.
"Oh, God, oh God, NO! STEVE! Peter, please..."
The young cop moved swiftly to catch the young woman as she stumbled.
"He's alive, Mandy. He was shot but he's alive. We need to get to the
hospital."
She took a few tentative steps toward the car, then looked at Peter
with indecision in her eyes, "Peter, what about Katy? She can't come home to an empty house. I have to..." She looked helplessly at her friend, torn between rushing to her husband and getting to her child.
Turning her gently toward the car, Peter responded, "It's not twelve
thirty yet. She doesn't get out of school for another couple of hours.
We'll go to the hospital, find out how S..Steve is, then take care
of Katy."
She nodded, almost successful in her attempts to hold back her
tears and allowed him to help her into the patrol car.
*************
Carl was pacing the living room of the dingy apartment when Mark
returned. "Did you get rid of the car?"
"Yeah, it's burning along with an abandoned warehouse."
"Fine." Carl suddenly slammed his fist into the wall next to Mark. Sid jumped at the sound while Mark froze where he was. Carl grabbed Mark by the shoulders and slammed him into the wall, "What went wrong? They should both be dead!"
"I..I don't know, Carl. That Caine dude seemed to know it was a
trap."
Carl glared at the man, "Well Caine's not hurt at all and he's the
one we've got to worry about. He saw us."
The motion of the door temporarily ended the argument as Becca
entered the room. She released her long blond hair from its clips
and started to unbutton the white uniform, "Damn this thing's
uncomfortable."
"Well?" Carl turned all his attention toward his lover.
"Caine wasn't hurt but Jones is in critical condition. He was
in surgery when I left."
"Did anyone recognize you?"
"In this get-up? Not a chance. I left before Caine got there, but
I bet I could've stood next to him and he wouldn't have recognized me."
Carl kissed her eager lips, "Didn't want to put you at risk, my dear.
Besides you gather intelligence so well. Where's Caine?"
"Gone to fetch the wife. Some other cop brought in an old woman
that turned out to be Jones' mother."
"How sweet. Anything else?"
She grinned wickedly, "I got to comfort Mommy, and did the old
biddy want to talk. Seems our Detective Caine is very close to the
Jones family. He's even the godfather to their little girl."
"Who gives a shit, Becca, we need Caine silent or dead, preferably
dead!" Mark's tone was bitter and Sid looked frightened.
Carl smiled, "THEY may not get it, Becca, but I do. The damn
cop's friend has been badly injured so we've got him off balance.
Now all we have to do is keep him that way, at least until he dies."
----------------------------------------------------------------------
part - 10 ↑
Peter kept a close eye on Mandy as they reached the front door
of the hospital. She stopped suddenly, staring at the entrance as
if it were a monster waiting to pounce. "Mandy?"
Her voice was low and calm, too calm, "I'm OK. I'm just g..getting
ready."
Puzzled he asked, "For what?"
"To l..lose him."
The Shaolin cop felt his own heart freeze at her words. Shaking
his head he put a gentle hand under her chin and forced her to look
at him. "You are not going to lose him, Amanda. I promise."
"But what if he's already g..gone, Peter? What will I tell Katy?
And the baby, what about the baby?"
"He's still alive, Mandy. I..I'd know if he weren't."
"Oh," she replied, never questioning his assertion for a moment,
"Then we'd better find Helen."
Peter smiled briefly as he held the door for the pretty wife,
praying all the while that she would not be a widow by the end of
the day.
*************
Kermit Griffin whistled almost merrily as he entered his office.
His testimony had proven to be the deciding factor in the Gilbert
sentencing, and the little piece of slime had received the maximum
sentence. "Yes," he thought, "All is right with the world." His
smile turned into a frown as he stared at his PC screen, "What the
hell?" He quickly entered some commands and the information speeding
its way into the unknown stopped abruptly. His frown intensified
as he perused what had already been transmitted. Without moving
his eyes from what he was reading, he lifted his phone and dialed,
"Come here." Hanging up he entered a few more commands and sat
back to wait.
The door to his office opened and Karen Simms entered, "It usually
works the other way around, Griffin. What've you got?"
"Sorry, K..Captain, someone has been doing a background check on
one Peter Matthew Caine."
"WHAT! Who? Why?"
"You left out 'when' and 'where'. Answer is 'I do not know' to
all of the above, but I sure as hell intend to find out."
*************
His reunion with Helen Jones had not been the joyful meeting Peter
had been anticipating. He held back as the mother and wife fell
weeping into each other's arms. Helen was the first to halt her
tears and stood silently stroking her daughter-in-law's hair for a
moment. Mandy struggled to regain control and pushed away from
Helen. "Steve?"
"Nothing yet. Captain Heller's gone to bully the staff, again."
Helen Jones turned compassionate eyes on the young man standing
helplessly near her. Holding out her arms, the softly spoken,
"Peter," sent him into her embrace.
"Helen, I'm so sorry. It's all my fault. St..."
The older woman put her hand over the distraught young man's
mouth, "Hush, Peter. It is not your fault. The emergency room
physician says that you saved his life. That he would have bled
to death if you hadn't gotten it under control."
"It is my fault, dammit. I should have stopped these, these people
back home!"
Helen closed her eyes against the pain in the young voice. Bracing
herself, she responded, "I see. So now what, the Jones family should
hate you forever for failing them?"
Stunned, Peter drew back, "W..what?"
She gently touched his cheek, "Darling Peter, always trying to
carry the guilt of the world on his shoulders. Baby, put the blame
where it lies - on the jerks that pulled the trigger, not on yourself.
YOU are one of the good guys, I know it, Mandy knows it and Steve
knows it. You give the world much, much more than it has ever given
you."
Peter swallowed back his tears, "But, Helen..."
"No 'buts', young man. Captain Heller needs to speak with you.
Remember you have a job to do. Catch these assholes."
Twin voices chimed out, "HELEN!"
"What youngsters? I was married to a cop. I'm the mother of a
cop AND I work in a homeless shelter. Did you really think I didn't
know the words?" Helen Jones gently turned Peter to face down the
hall. Giving him a firm but gentle shove, she commanded, "Go, do your
job and rescue the nursing staff from Martin Heller in the process."
"Yes Ma'am."
*************
"Shit!" Joe Lacey angrily hit the desk with his fist.
"What's wrong?" An older reporter moved to stand behind Joe.
"Oh, I just got shut out of a query I was running."
"On what?"
Joe hesitated, "Uh, never mind."
"Protecting a source?" The older man grinned knowingly.
The young reporter smiled, "Something like that."
*************
"Yes, Captain, that pretty well sums it up. I caught the guns
in the window out of the corner of my eye. I thought they were
shotguns, but...."
"But Steve was definitely hit by a 22 slug. That matches with
the videocams on the hold-ups, as well as the wounds inflicted in
the last robbery. Two suspects with shotguns, a third always has
a pistol. We've got an APB out on the car but I'll bet it's long
gone."
"Yes, sir. I'm sure it is."
"You didn't by any chance see the shooters?"
"No, sir. I..I saw the guns and dove for Steve. He..."
"Excuse me, Detective Caine?" A middle-aged nurse approached the
pair.
"Yes?"
"You have a phone call. Line three, you can take it at the desk."
Peter looked puzzled, "Thank you. Who the heck?" He moved quickly
to the phone, "Caine."
["Sorry we missed you today, Detective."]
The detective's hand tightened on the headset, "What do you want?"
Hand signals to Heller got a trace started on the line.
["You were supposed to die today."]
"Sorry to disappoint you."
["It's OK. I'll make up for it. I've already decided on the next
target."]
"I'm all ears."
A sadistic laugh came through the wire, ["I'll bet you are. I'll
be in touch."]
Peter slammed the headset into the cradle and whirled to face
Captain Heller, who shook his head, "Not on long enough. Get anything
useful?"
"NO, Dammit!" Peter took a deep breath, "But I've got a real bad
feeling about this."
----------------------------------------------------------------------
part - 11 ↑
"Mandy, pacing is doing you no good. Your feet are already starting
to swell." Helen gently chided her nervous daughter-in-law.
"I know, but these chairs are not very comfortable."
"Try this." Peter pushed an oversized office chair into position
by the expectant mother.
"Where on earth? Peter, does anyone know you have this?"
"They will when they try to sit down."
"PETER!"
The young detective smiled, "Of course I told someone before I
took it, Mandy. Matter of fact, the head nurse told me which office
to requisition it from."
Sinking gratefully into the soft cushions, Mandy breathed a sigh
of relief, "That's much better. H..how long has it been?"
Helen looked at her watch, "It's been almost three hours."
Mandy sat bolt upright, "It's almost two-thirty?"
"Why yes, but, Oh my God. Katy!"
Amanda shoved herself upright in a panic, "I've got to get to
her, she can't ride the bus to an empty house. Oh, Steve..."
Peter gently pulled her into his arms and stroked her hair,
"Mandy, calm down. Call the school and tell them that I'll be
picking her up. Let them know what's happened. I'll explain it
to Katy."
Mandy choked back more tears, "Peter, I can't ask you to do that."
"Hey, what are godfathers for?"
Helen took over, "Amanda, go call the school. I'll give Peter
directions."
As Mandy disappeared in search of a private phone line, Peter
slapped his head in dismay, "I don't have a car."
Captain Heller had listened to the conversation quietly, not
willing to intrude on the private conversation. At Peter's words,
he spoke up, "Yes, you do, son. One of my officers brought Steve's
car here. Figured someone would need it. I'll go bring it up front."
Turning, the older cop disappeared, grateful at last to have something
to do other than wait.
As Helen was writing down directions to the elementary school,
Mandy returned, "I've spoken to the school councilor. They'll get
Katy to the front office and keep her there until you pick her up.
You're not on the sign-out list, Peter, so you'll have to give the
councilor Katy's school password."
"Password? You mean a code word only you and Katy know?"
"Well, you'll have to know that too but this is the school's
requirement. I wrote it down for you." She handed him a piece of
paper with a number on it.
"Thanks, now you mentioned a code word?"
Amanda and Helen both grinned. Mandy replied, "Well, I don't
have to write it down for you. It's 'Kermit'."
Peter almost laughed, "Kermit?"
"Yes, it needed to be something she wouldn't forget and that a
stranger couldn't guess. When Steve told her that she couldn't use
'Peter', she selected 'Kermit' instead." The mention of her husband's
name brought tears to her eyes once more. "I..I checked when I was
using the phone. Steve's still in surgery. They don't know how long
he'll be there."
Peter gave both women a quick hug, took the directions and headed
for the elevator, wondering what he was going to say to the eight
year old girl that he adored.
*************
"Oooh, I love Saturns." Becca was extremely cheerful as she slipped
behind the wheel. "This one smells new. Do we hafta dump it?"
"Yes. From now on, only one job per car." Carl slid into the
passenger seat. "Are we ready?"
Sid's enthusiastic, "Yes" was accompanied by Mark's more subdued
"I guess."
Carl turned in his seat to glare at the other man, "Mark, I thought
we had this worked out. I choose the targets. I decide how it goes
down."
"What about the cops?"
"I've told you before, no one is going to expect us to strike so
soon after putting a hole in that cop. Becca's been watching this
store for weeks and their regular delivery is scheduled at three
today. The haul should be worth it."
"And I suppose we have to kill the armored car guards?"
"I thought we'd already discussed this. We've already killed
four people, they can't electrocute us more than once. Besides,
with his partner injured, Caine will probably stick close to the
hospital. More deaths is a sure way to draw him out."
"What's so special about Peter Caine?" Mark's anger showed in
his voice.
"Idiot! He saw ME. HE's the reason that those artist sketches
have been showing up all over town. HE's the reason we can't stay
in San Francisco much longer and believe me, we haven't even come
close to hitting all the stores we could have. HE's cost me money,
time and sleep. Besides I just don't like him."
Mark sat silently for a moment as Becca skillfully steered the
car through the maze of one-way streets that made up the downtown
area. Finally he spoke again, "Carl, I'll go along with you for now
because I agree that Caine's the only one who can positively id us.
BUT, after he's dead, I want my share and out."
Carl remained surprisingly calm, "Sure, Mark, no problem. You'll
get yours after we kill him."
*************
The buses, school as well as day-care, were already gone from
the parking lot by the time Peter arrived at the elementary school.
Some parents still sat waiting patiently for straggling students
in the circular drive-way that dominated the front entrance to
the school. Peter slipped Steve's Taurus into an open slot and
climbed slowly from the driver's seat. Bracing himself he walked
to the front entrance and went in search of his little angel.
An excited, "UNCLE PETER", echoed down the halls seconds before
a small whirlwind launched herself into the young cop's arms.
Chattering full-blast, the child pulled herself out of his tight
embrace and taking his hand, tugged him toward the office, "You
have to sign me out, Uncle Peter. Mrs. Crowley would call the
cops if you didn't. Mrs. Crowley, this is my Uncle Peter. He's
really neat. I just KNEW you were gonna pick me up when Momma
called. I'll get my stuff. Let's go. Are we gonna do anything
special?"
The school councilor's sympathetic eyes met Peter's as she
interrupted the child, "Whoa, Katy. Your Uncle's got to give me
the right password and sign you out before you can go anywhere."
She pointed Peter toward the desk and the log book. As the young
cop filled in the pages, Katy started to frown.
"What's wrong, Katy?" Mrs. Crowley asked.
"I forgot something." She slipped up to Peter's side and
tugged on his sleeve, "Uncle Peter, I forgot. You've got to
whisper the code word to me or I can't go with you. Daddy
would be real mad."
Smiling, Peter responded, "Wouldn't want that, now would we?"
Kneeling, he whispered, "KERMIT" in the child's ear.
"Cool, NOW we can leave."
"Just a minute, baby. Uh, Mrs. Crowley, is there..."
"My office, Mr. Caine. Third door to the left. I'll be out
here if you need me."
He nodded his thanks and turned back to the child, "Katy, I need
to talk to you for a moment. Let's go to Mrs. Crowley's office."
As the confused child took her beloved godfather's hand, he once
again pondered the words that would break her heart.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
part - 12 ↑
Little arms encircled his neck as sobs shook the tiny body. Peter's eyes were
squeezed tightly shut in response to the child's pain. He really thought he'd been
prepared to handle the situation. Once again he'd been proven wrong.
"Katy, honey, I need to talk to you." Peter sank into the sofa in the councilor's
office and pulled the little girl toward him. "Why don't you sit next to me?"
She pulled loose from his grip and met his eyes. "Is something wrong with the
baby?"
Confused, he responded, "Oh, no, baby. Why would you ask that?"
"Cause the doctor made Momma stop working. She and Daddy were real worried
about the baby. I'm not sure why, but they talked about it when they thought I
wouldn't hear."
Peter was stunned. He'd known Mandy wasn't working but neither Steve nor Mandy had let on that there was a problem. He gulped and continued, "I see. No nothing's
wrong with the baby." He paused and touched her hair, "Sunshine, your daddy and
I went to try to stop some very bad people today and your d...daddy got hurt."
The child's face paled and her voice trembled, "Hurt? You mean, shot, don't
you?"
"Yes, Katy, I mean shot. He's at the hospital now, in surgery and your Momma
and Grandmomma are waiting there."
Tears started to fall and she lunged for the only comfort available, Peter's arms.
Her tragic wail of "Is my Daddy gonna die?" would haunt the young detective for
years to come.
He held her until the worst of the tremors subsided, gently stroking her baby-soft
hair and providing mute comfort with his touch. As she choked back her remaining
sobs, she pulled away from Peter's arms. "Can we go to the hospital now? I..I want
my Momma!" Katy scrubbed her eyes with tiny fists as she struggled to keep her tears from starting to flow again.
Peter rose quickly, wiped his own eyes and took her hand, "Yes, sunshine. I think
that's a real good idea."
**************
The armored car pulled into the lot at Clark's San Francisco Gold Exchange. Originally built to handle the multitude of gold claims during the gold rush years,
the old building had gradually become a very high-class jewelry store. It specialized
in, of course, gold and had the finest selection of gold and platinum jewelry west of
the Mississippi. Upwards of a million dollars in goods could be found in the vaults
at any given time.
In addition to the armored car guards, Clark's employed plain clothes security
staff, who functioned as surplus sales staff as needed. Today, however, security was heavier than normal. A special shipment of antique gold coins, destined for a collector
in the Caribbean, was stopping at the store for an insurance appraisal.
Becca parallel parked the Saturn near the front of the store, checked her hair and
make-up one last time and climbed out of the little car. She straightened her very
short skirt, took the briefcase that Carl handed her, and walked casually past the
armored car. The auburn curls from her wig cascaded around her face, partially concealing her features as she entered the store. She wandered up and down the
rows of displays for a few moments, then stopped and studied a display of diamonds
near the main cash register. Placing her briefcase on the floor, she asked to examine
one of the rings on display. Reluctantly returning it to the clerk, she wandered
about the store for a few more minutes before exiting as quietly as she'd entered.
**************
Peter made sure Katy's seatbelt was securely fastened, then started Steve's car.
The police radio in the car crackled into life as the pair left the school. As the
young detective listened with horror, the dispatcher related the facts involving an unexplained explosion in an uptown jewelry store. As he listened to the details, he suddenly 'knew' that his thieves had changed their mode of operation. Listening to
the dispatcher request additional support for possible casualties, Peter realized that
no one else yet understood this. Furious, he automatically reached for the siren then remembered the child beside him. 'Justice', and his theories, would have to wait until
she was safely with her mother. Mentally he reviewed the images he'd seen in the robbery back home, studying the faces of the murderers he'd seen. One way or another, he would stop them; he owed it to the victims.
**************
Police, fire and ambulance sirens screamed in response to the alarms going off in Clark's store. Frightened patrons fled the premises as confused security staff attempted
to ascertain the seriousness of the situation. Thick, rancid smoke filled the store and
many of those attempting to stay in the building were forced to flee, tears streaming down their faces.
Three off-duty firefighters were the first rescue personnel on the scene. Pushing
their way past the crowds, they raced through the open doors. The lone guard who'd
remained on duty never saw the man who killed him. Callously kneeling by the still
figure, Carl placed an envelope on the dead man's back and turned to fill his bag with
valuables. The coin collection joined an amazing assortment of jewelry in the thieves'
sacks. As the sound of the approaching sirens grew louder, the three men slipped
unnoticed out the back door.
As they climbed into the Saturn, Sid commented, "Not bad. Didn't take more than
fifteen minutes."
**************
Katy clung to Peter's hand as they exited the elevator on the surgical floor. Helen
Jones held out her arms and the child abandoned Peter immediately. Helen scooped
her granddaughter into her arms and held her tightly. Katy pulled away from her
grandmother and asked tearfully, "Where's Momma?"
Peter turned ghost pale as Helen replied, "Momma's resting. The baby decided
that he wanted to try to come a little early."
"He's here?" Katy's voice expressed excitement, confusion and concern
simultaneously.
"No, sweetie. It's not time for him to be here, so the doctors are giving Momma
medicine to make him not come just yet."
Turning to Peter, the eight year old said accusingly, "You said nothing was wrong
with the baby, Uncle Peter!"
----------------------------------------------------------------------
part - 13 ↑
Helen did not miss the flash of pain that crossed Peter's face at the
child's accusation, "Katy, sunshine, the baby was fine when Peter left.
He really didn't know."
The little girl flung herself at Peter, "I'm sorry. Don't be mad."
Peter hugged her tightly and kissed her head, "It's OK, Katy, I'm not
mad." Turning to Helen, he said quietly, "Steve?"
Tears filled the older woman's eyes as she thought of her only child,
"Nothing yet, but I...."
"Detective Caine?"
Releasing Katy to her grandmother's care, Peter turned to face Martin
Heller, "Sir?"
"You're with me. Helen, if you need anything..."
"Thank you, Martin." Years of being married to a one cop and mother
to another enabled Helen to quickly pick up on the Captain's desire to
be alone with Peter. Kissing the young man gently on the cheek, she
took Katy's hand and said, "Let's go see if Momma can have visitors,
yet."
"'Kay." The little girl smiled and waved to Peter as they went down
the hall.
Captain Heller watched them leave, "That's a good family."
"Yes, sir, they are. Sir, about the explosion that just occurred..."
"That's why I..."
"Captain, I think the..."
"Caine, if you'll let...."
"store was robbed and..."
"It was..."
"our jewelry store assholes are respons..."
"They are..."
"Sir, if you'll just hear..." Peter paused as the Captain's words sank
in, "You know?"
"Son, do you listen this well when you're home?" Heller held up a
well-tanned hand, "No. Don't answer that. Caine, one guard was killed."
Peter moaned in dismay and slapped his fist into the wall.
Heller placed a hand on the younger man's shoulder, "I know.
This is a real bad crew."
"Police band said there was an explosion. How'd they find out it
was our guys so fast?"
Captain Heller's face grew grim, "They left an envelope, for you.
Come on, son. We're needed on the scene."
Twenty minutes later Peter and Heller arrived on the scene. The
fire trucks had long since left the area, leaving a plethora of police
cars to handle the chaos. The majority of the injuries were minor,
resulting from either the rancid smoke or the haste of the exodus
from the store.
The officer in charge of traffic control waved Heller's car on through
the barricade. The two men exited the vehicle and walked toward
the store. The coroner's wagon stood awaiting receipt of the lone
fatality. A body bag was being loaded as the pair approached.
"Wait!" Peter moved toward the bag. "Open it, please."
"Caine, you don't have to do this." Heller held up his hand to stop
the technician.
"Yes, Captain, I do. I owe it to the victim." Peter met Heller's
eyes for a moment. Sighing in defeat, the Captain nodded his
consent to the waiting tech.
Peter stared morosely at the still form then gave the signal to close
the bag. Captain Heller watched closely as a wide range of emotions
played across the younger man's face. An approaching officer caught
the veteran's attention, "Captain, how's Steve?"
"No word, yet, Dickson. He's still in surgery. What do you have?"
"Tear gas. The explosion was designed to drive people out of
the store. Witnesses describe three 'firemen' rushing into the store.
Only, when the fire trucks arrived, they were no where to be found,
one guard was dead and the store had been liberated of some of its
inventory."
"How much did they get?"
"Unknown, sir. The manager's still taking inventory but she knows
they made off with a coin collection that had just arrived for an
insurance appraisal. Probably worth..."
"Excuse me," Peter could wait no longer, "but there's an envelope
for me? At least that's what the Captain said."
"Ah, Detective Caine? The lab crew should be about finished with
it. Harry!"
"Yeah, Dickson?"
"Clear that envelope yet?"
"Yeah, it's clean."
Peter eagerly snatched the paper from the other man. His face paled,
then flushed red with anger at the document he held. A newspaper
clipping was the lone item in the envelope. Peter's rage grew as he
stared at the picture of Steve and himself, the red X over Steve's
face another reminder of his failure to save his friend.
*************
"MOMMA!" Katy started to dash to the bed but was restrained
by Helen.
"Baby, you need to be quiet."
"It's all right, Helen, Katy come sit by me, please." Mandy eased
herself upright in the bed and pulled her little girl close to her. Brushing
the child's hair out of her eyes, she said, "I'll bet you're scared, aren't
you pumpkin?"
Katy played with the corner of a blanket and reluctantly nodded
her head.
"Well, it's ok to be scared. There's some pretty scary things happening.
The baby got excited but he's calmed down, now. I want you to believe
me when I tell you that I believe that everyone's going to be ok."
"Daddy too?"
"Daddy too. Uncle Peter made sure that the bullet didn't kill Daddy
right off."
"Momma, I..I think I hurt Uncle Peter's feelings." The child looked
up and her words came out in a rush, "I thought he knew about the
baby and wasn't telling me. I said I was sorry but he looked so sad.
Do you think if I draw him a picture it will make him feel better?"
Mandy kissed her daughter gently, "I think that's a good idea."
"I'll draw Daddy one too for when he gets out of surgery."
"That's good baby. You go with Grandma, now. Momma's got
to sleep."
Katy hugged Mandy tightly and slipped off the bed. Helen leaned
over and kissed her daughter-in-law, "You sleep, now. Katy and I
will be outside."
****************
As Peter stared at the newspaper clipping, the world around him
vanished. The essence of the man who'd made the X was so strong,
it almost overwhelmed the Shaolin cop. Oblivious to the concerned
inquiries of the San Francisco cops, Peter found himself transported
through a terrifying collage of blood. Each robbery revealed itself
to the young cop, complete with all their horrific details. As his
'vision' progressed Peter suddenly saw the woman in the park, but
with different hair and in a different setting. His eyes widened as
he realized that somehow he'd now been 'blessed' with a psychic
connection to these madmen. He knew, without a shadow of a
doubt, that he was seeing through a killer's eyes.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
part - 14 ↑
"Caine? Son, are you all right?" Captain Heller and Detective
Mark Dickson had watched with concern as Peter's face drained
of color. They each took an elbow as the younger man started to
sway and helped him to a near-by patrol car. Convinced that Peter
was about to faint, Heller pushed him into the passenger seat and
forced Peter's head to his knees. "Breath deeply, son. Try to relax."
As usual when 'returning' from a vision, Peter was disoriented.
Allowing the Captain to assist him, bought time to regain his composure.
Peter knew that there was no way these strangers were going to buy
his story. "Hell," he thought, "This one even I'm having trouble with."
With the completion of his Shaolin training had come a new awareness,
one immediately apparent with the Eagleton visions. Even those who
knew him well had had difficulty with those. He could only imagine
the kind of ridicule and outright suspicion that would exist among
those who'd only just met him. He huffed in a couple of deep breaths
and slowly raised his head, "Thanks, Captain, I'll...I'll be all right now."
"Peter, I know it's been a tough day for you. Hell, I feel pretty damn
bad myself. Why don't you go back to the hospital? Come to the precinct
tomorrow morning. Maybe by then things will be looking better."
The young detective opened his mouth to protest, but managed to get
out a "Thank you, Captain, I really appreciate that" instead.
"I'll have someone take you back to the hospital."
"Thanks, Captain."
Heller nodded and walked away, leaving Peter to his thoughts.
He thanked the Immortals for whatever insight had caused him to
agree with Captain Heller. While he hated deceiving the older man,
he desperately needed to act upon his vision. He'd return to the
hospital to get Steve's car. Then he'd go on his own search for these
killers.
************
"Lacey." Joe Lacey balanced the phone on his shoulder as he
continued to type his version of the latest robbery. His sources
downtown had revealed to him that the explosion was merely a
cover for another theft by the 'Marauders'. The name had been
coined by a local TV station, needing to boost its ratings, but had
proven to be all too accurate.
["Mr. Lacey. Your paper is well-known for its support of the
local authorities. Your articles are no exception."]
"Thank you. We always try to give the police a fair shake."
["I imagine you have some very well-placed friends on the force."]
Lacey paused, puzzled, wondering where this bizarre conversation
was heading, "I know some people, yes."
["Well, let them know that as long as Peter Caine is involved with
this case, more people will die."]
"May I ask how you know that?" Every reporter's instinct Joe had
was firing warning shots at him. He checked caller-id, and snapped
his fingers to get the attention of one of his co-workers. Handing her
the number, he mouthed, "Police. Now."
The young woman nodded in understanding and flew to her phone.
Lacey's attention returned to the voice on the phone.
["Because, I'm one of the robbers."]
"I see. How can I be sure?"
["Check with your buddies downtown. You'll find that we left
Caine a present, on the body of the guard."] The line went dead.
Lacey cursed under his breath and dialed his sources downtown.
************
Kwai Chang Caine was home. Cheryl had taken good care of his
plants and the Ancient had kindly tended to his apothecary duties.
Still he felt a certain unease. His link with Peter told him that his
son was deeply troubled, but Caine was unable to glean any reason
for Peter's anxiety. Sometimes the older Shaolin regretted that
Peter had progressed so far in his training. The son's natural abilities
often interfered with the father's desire to always protect him.
"Hello, Kermit. Please come in."
The ex-mercenary shook his head, "Caine, you're the only person
I know that I can never sneak up on. Not that I was trying to, you
understand."
"I understand. You have come about Peter."
"Yeah," Kermit hastily added, "He's not hurt. But you already
know that, don't you?"
"I do, but he is deeply disturbed. Why does he not come here
himself?"
"Cause he's in San Francisco. He was sent out there on special
assignment. I got word a little while ago that Peter's friend, Steve
Jones, has been shot."
Caine closed his eyes in dismay. He was well aware that Peter
and Steven were kindred spirits. Steven's injury would explain the
anxiety his son had been feeling. "Steven is still alive?"
"Oh yeah, but he's still in surgery. I came to offer my company
when you go to San Francisco."
Kwai Chang Caine looked deeply troubled, "I cannot go."
"Why not?"
"Peter has not asked me to come."
"So? That's never stopped you before." Kermit winced as he
realized belatedly how the words must sound to the priest.
Caine whispered, "I know, but that was before..."
Frustration laced Kermit's tones, "Before what?"
In a voice almost to soft to be heard, Caine responded, "Before
he completed his training."
"I don't understand."
"Peter is Shaolin, even though he chose not to take the brands. To
interfere, to rush to his aid without his consent, this I cannot do."
"But..."
"No, my friend, Peter will seek my aid when, and if, the time is
right. Then I will gladly honor his request and join him. Not before."
************
Peter thanked the young patrolman who'd taken him back to the
hospital. The young detective watched the patrol car disappear as he
walked toward the building. As soon as the car was out of sight, the
young man headed for the parking lot and Steve's Taurus. He unlocked
the driver's door and slipped quickly behind the wheel. Glancing at the
hospital where Steve and Mandy were confined, he felt a momentary
pang of guilt. Peter sternly reminded himself that his friends were in
good hands; that he was not abandoning them. As he started the car
and drove away, his mind's eye could see Helen Jones and Katy keeping
vigil in the waiting room. "I'm sorry, Helen, Katy, I...I've got to stop
these people before they hurt anyone else. Please understand."
----------------------------------------------------------------------
part - 15 ↑
Peter Caine drove slowly through the San Francisco streets, trying
to determine his next course of action. He'd received limited information
from his first glimpse through his adversary's eyes. The young woman
was obviously part of the team and was also skilled at disguising her
looks. He'd picked up little else - this time. The sun was setting into
the Pacific ocean as Peter suddenly realized he'd made a major decision.
Laughing out loud, he knew that the first thing he needed was a quiet
spot to meditate. Spotting a sign pointing the way to the Japanese
Gardens, Peter maneuvered the car into the correct lane and headed
for what he hoped was a peaceful location.
*************
"Heller. Yes, Commissioner.... Sir, I think that's a mistake....Yes,
sir. You are, sir.... NO! I'll handle it, sir." His fury was such that he
slammed the receiver back into its cradle, cracking the hard plastic.
"Martin? What on earth?" Sara Heller stared in astonishment at
the jagged crack in her kitchen phone.
"I'm sorry, Sara. THAT was the Commissioner."
"I see. You know, you've really got to stop letting that man upset
you so."
Heller grinned sheepishly, "I know, but damn he's stupid. I cannot
believe you used to date his brother."
"Well, if it's any comfort to you, his brother was stupid, too."
Lost in thought, Martin did not respond to his wife's comment.
"It's about those murdering jewel thieves, isn't it? And possibly
Steven Jones?"
"You're too perceptive sometimes, Sara." He sighed heavily,
"Seems an anonymous source, claiming to be one of the robbers,
has threatened more deaths if Peter Caine isn't removed from the
investigation."
"Peter Caine?" Sara looked puzzled, "Isn't he that cop you brought
in to help catch these guys? And isn't he a friend of Steve's?"
"Yes to both questions, but it gets worse. The Commissioner, in
his infinite wisdom, has decided that Peter Caine is no longer welcome
in San Francisco. He's to leave town first thing in the morning. The
airline tickets are on their way over here now."
Sara Heller stared in shock at her husband, "Can he really do that?
I mean, Detective Caine is a friend of Steve's. What if he wants to stay
until Steve's released from the hospital?"
Heller frowned, "I don't know if the 'get out of town' order would
hold up in a court of law, but if he stays and more people die, then I
can see the Commissioner placing the blame for everything squarely
on Caine's shoulders. That boy doesn't need that - he already blames
himself for not stopping the assholes back home, as well as for
Steve getting injured."
"Where's Detective Caine now?"
"At the hospital with Steve's family. I better get over there and
break the news to him. I wanted to check on Steve again anyway.
Haven't heard anything since just after Caine left to go back to the
hospital. Steve was in recovery then, in critical condition."
"The chicken's got another forty-five minutes to cook."
"And?"
"What will it hurt to wait another two hours to give that young man
his marching orders? Leave him alone for a while, Martin."
Martin Heller smiled at his wife of thirty years, "You're special, Mrs.
Heller." He reached for her slender waist.
"No, no, Captain Heller," she gave him a wicked grin, "none of that.
After all, you are going to have to get to the hospital tonight, you know."
*************
To his disappointment, the gardens were closed by the time he arrived.
Making a mental note to come back some time, he glanced across the
street. A group of people were gathered in an open plaza surrounded
by low trees. Knowing crowds were usually associated with bands or
speakers, Peter was pleasantly surprised when the group began doing
Tai Chi. He breathed in the air and realized that even locked out of
the gardens, this entire area offered a sense of tranquillity, enhanced
by the presence of the Tai Chi practitioners. Moving to a relatively
isolated location near the gardens, he breathed in the scent of flowered
shrubs and concentrated on centering himself.
Slowly the area around him faded away, to be replaced by a run-down
room, with graying paint. One man sat on the floor, eyes glued to the
TV. Another man sat on the couch with the young woman in his lap.
From the easy way they moved with each other, Peter guessed they
had long been lovers. He studied the men closely; frowning as he
recognized lover-boy as the man who fired the shots at him. The man
on the floor suddenly turned and began to speak. At first the words
sounded to Peter more like an insect buzzing in his ears than actual
speech. As he forced himself even deeper into the connection, the
sounds became clear. "... again. That last robbery has the cops shook.
But they don't say nothing about that cop you shot, Carl." Carl - Peter
now had a name to go with lover-boy's face. The Shaolin cop was
startled as the man who served as his eyes, began to speak. "We shot,
Sid. We all fired in that direction."
"Yeah, OK, but I still think Carl got him with the 22."
Carl spoke up, "Don't think Sid, your fucking brain might explode."
The girl in his lap started to giggle, "Yeah and even though it's very
small, it'd still mess up the walls."
Peter's 'host' spoke up, "We need to leave town, now. We've got
enough to last a long time. We could split up and ..."
Peter gasped and struggled to maintain his connection as his host
was slammed into a wall. Through the third man's eyes, Peter saw
Carl's face contort into an insane rage. "We leave when I say we
leave and not before and that won't be until that asshole Caine is
dead. Do you understand, Mark?"
Gasping for air, Mark could reply only a choked, "Yes."
Peter started violently at Sid's next words, "I don't get it. If you
want Caine dead, then why did you call that reporter and say we
were gonna kill more people if Caine wasn't pulled from the case?"
"Because that way, no matter what happens, dead people get
blamed on Caine, at least in the press. Should make his life
miserable." Carl laughed at his own ingenuity.
So horrified was Peter by the words he'd just heard, that he ignored,
at first, the fact that Mark had turned away from his companions. As
Mark fought to regain his composure, Peter suddenly realized that the
man was looking out a window. To the young Shaolin's absolute
delight, he knew where these vermin were hiding. Directly across
the street from Mark's window was Helen Jones' Chinatown Shelter.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
part - 16 ↑
So surprised was Peter at the location of the gang, that he found
himself forcefully hurled out of his connection with Mark. Without
knowing it, he fell backwards off the bench he'd sat on, into the
shrubs. He lay quietly for a moment, gasping and trying to reorient
himself. Realizing his location, the young cop quickly attempted to
rise. A stern voice caught his attention before he was able to stand,
"You know, most people prefer to sleep on the bench, or under a
bridge."
A burly hand reached down and physically plucked Peter out of
the bushes. An older cop kept a tight grip on the younger man's arm
as he asked, "What is it, son, drugs? I don't smell alcohol."
Peter blushed with embarrassment, "Oh, no, nothing like that. I,
uh, I got dizzy."
The patrolman studied the younger man's features, "Epileptic?"
"No, sir, not me." Peter prayed the man wouldn't ask for id. The
young Shaolin couldn't quite put his finger on why, but he was loathe
to reveal his identity.
"Inner ear problems?"
"Uh, my hearing has been a little out of kilter, lately."
"Did you drive over here?"
"Yes," Peter was puzzled, "The red Taurus over there."
"Let me see the keys."
Even more confused, Peter handed the man Steve's car keys. The
patrolman thought for a moment, before asking, "Car locked?"
"Yes, why?"
To the young Shaolin's astonishment, the cop pocketed the keys.
"HEY! You can't do that."
Eyeing the younger man closely, the cop smiled, "Apparently I
can. You obviously don't need to be driving, for whatever reason."
"How will I get back to town?"
"Just fixing to tell you. That tour bus over there will give you a
ride in. I'll do you a favor and make sure your car isn't towed."
"Look, there is nothing wrong with me. I am perfectly capable
of driving."
"If you drive as well as you sit, then you'll end up in the Bay.
Nope, either you take the bus or you spend the night in a holding
cell and visit Judge Estes in the morning. Your choice."
"Look, I'm a cop," Peter pulled out his id and showed it to the
older man.
"Son, that only means that you should know better than to mess
with whatever it is that you've been doing. Do us both a favor,
take the bus. I really don't want to have to run you in."
Sighing in defeat, Peter replied, "OK, OK. You win. Keep the
keys."
"Good boy." Releasing Peter's arm, the man headed toward his
car. "And get some help, will ya?"
Startled, Peter responded, "Yes, sir. Uh, about my keys?"
"Come to the 101st, ask for Officer Patrick Malone. I'll hold 'em
for you."
**************
Martin Heller took a deep breath and punched the button for the
surgical ICU floor. The doors slipped open and he headed toward
the waiting area. He passed the nurses' desk and was stopped by
a young woman just changing shifts. "Captain, they're not in the
waiting room. The little girl needed to sleep, so they've gone to her
mother's room."
"Where?"
"Two floors down. 407."
"Thanks. What's Steve's, uh, Detective Jones' condition?"
"Critical, but holding his own. His mother was able to visit
for a few minutes about thirty minutes ago. He's still unconscious
but I think she felt better just seeing him."
"Thanks." Heller opted to take the stairs rather than wait forever
for the elevator. Taking the steps two at a time, he shoved open the
door to the fourth floor, took note of the room numbers and headed
for 407.
He hesitated momentarily before he knocked, but hearing low voices
coming from inside, he rapped gently on the door. It opened a crack to
reveal an exhausted Helen Jones. Her face lit up when she saw her son's
commanding officer, "Come in Martin. Don't worry about waking Katy.
That child could sleep through an earthquake."
As the older man slipped into the room, Mandy startled him by asking,
"Where's Peter?"
Recovering quickly, he responded, "I'm not sure right now. Why?"
"Oh, I just haven't seen him since earlier today and wanted to let
him know I'm all right. Keeping him busy, eh, Captain?"
"You could say that. Well, I can't stay, but I did want to check on
both of you. Call me if you need anything. I'll see you later." Making
a hasty exit, Heller forced himself to get down to the lobby before he
called his precinct. "Adams, any word from Peter Caine?... Great....
He was supposed to come to the hospital, but never got here.... I don't
know.... The thieves were gunning for both Steve and Caine. I hope
they didn't get him... On the other hand, that young man had better
NOT be tracking these guys alone."
******************
Peter's developing Shaolin skills were being sorely tested. Desperate
to leave the garden area, he'd finally managed to unlock the car. "Just
like Pop," he thought with satisfaction. Checking the owner's manual,
he'd found the emergency key. "Why is it," he wondered, "that people
leave these in the glove compartment? Good thing though, I don't
think I could start the car without a key," he grinned to himself,
"at least, not yet."
The streets of Chinatown were basically deserted by the time Peter
drove through the ornate gates marking the entrance to the primary
tourist area. He continued down the road, turned and slipped the car
easily into a parking place near the shelter. As he pulled the emergency
brake into position, he wondered again how the locals coped with
parking on the hilly streets. Carefully surveying the landscape, he
settled on the old rundown hotel across the street as the probable
location of his thieves. Peter hurriedly entered the hotel, keeping a
close watch for the people he pursued. He grinned as he spotted
the elderly desk clerk snoring softly, newspaper dangling from one
hand. Not wanting to startle the old man, Peter spoke quietly,
"Excuse me."
Nothing. His next attempt was louder, "Excuse me!" Still nothing.
Finally, in exasperation, Peter tried a third time, "EXCUSE ME!"
"What!" The startled man jumped, dropping the paper to the
floor. Glaring accusingly at the young man, he snarled, 'You didn't
have to shout."
Acknowledging his guilt, Peter smiled agreeably, "I'm sorry, I
wasn't thinking. Look a friend of mine is supposed to be staying
here, with three friends of his. Could you check?"
"Name?"
Peter took a chance, "That's the problem, Mark left me a message
that Carl had checked them in, but didn't leave me Carl's last name.
It's Carl and his girlfriend, another man and Mark."
"Friends of yours, eh?"
"Yes, they are. Can you tell me what room?"
"329."
Peter could barely contain his excitement, "Thank you very much,"
was all he said as he started for the stairs.
"They're not there."
Peter whirled, "What?"
The old man checked his watch, "Yeah, left about an hour and a half ago.
Made enough damn noise."
"But...but, I just saw...I thought..." Peter's thoughts were spinning wildly.
"Not them you didn't, all four stormed outta here like the devil himself
was after them."
----------------------------------------------------------------------
part - 17 ↑
Still stunned by the discovery that his prey was gone, Peter left
the hotel and sank gratefully into the driver's seat of the Taurus.
Slamming his fist against the steering wheel, he winced as he
inadvertently hit the horn. "Damn it! We were connected. I was
seeing through that Mark character's eyes. Or..or..." Peter tried in
vain to calm down, "Or was I seeing what had already happened?
What the hell good is that, Pop? I can't find them if my 'visions' are
of the past. But if it was the future, then where..." Running his fingers
through his hair, he focused for a moment solely on calming himself.
Slowly but surely his breathing leveled out and he regained his center.
"That's better. OK, the clerk didn't say they'd checked out so with any
luck, they'll be back tonight. I'll just do a stake-out here." Suddenly
he realized that not only did he have no backup, no one knew where he
was or what he was doing. "But," he reasoned, "they wouldn't believe
me anyway. I can just see Heller assigning a stake-out here because
I had a vision of the past, present or maybe the future. Yeah, they'd
lock me away. Hopefully, I'll have something for the Captain in the
morning. I wonder how Steve and Mandy are?" Peter stared for a
moment at the car radio, then shut it off, feeling more than a little guilty
as he clicked the knob. That avenue for information was closed for
a while.
******************
Mark sat gloomily in the smoke filled bar. He couldn't believe
that Carl had made him do this. It was getting late, he was tired and
tomorrow would be a busy day, if Carl's plans were to be believed,
and Mark had learned from long experience that Carl rarely changed
his mind. "Damn," he thought, "Bed would feel so good." He glanced
worriedly around the room. It helped a little to know that Carl and
Becca sat across the room, in case this turned out to be a trap. Sid
manned the car for a fast get away if need be. Mark hurriedly put out
his fifth cigarette in less than an hour, wondering again about the safety
of meetings arranged on the Internet, particularly those arranged on
the spur of the moment...
"MARK!"
The young man jerked away from the window and whirled around,
"What?"
"Now that I've got your attention, you have a new job."
"And that would be?"
"These coins need to be unloaded. My buyer can't use them, too
easy to trace."
"And the jewelry isn't?" Mark's confusion was evident in his voice.
"God, Sid's rubbing off on you. The gold gets melted down and the
stones get broken apart or cut. Completely untraceable."
"I see. You want me to find a buyer on the Internet."
"You're finally catching up with me."
As Mark opened his laptop, he muttered, "I'm thrilled."
A tall man in jeans and a brightly colored shirt sank into the empty
seat at his table. Mark smiled as he saw the purple carnation in the
man's pocket. One of similar color rested in his own.
"You have something I want." The man spoke softly, obviously
afraid to be overheard.
"I'll just bet I do. Come outside."
"Outside?"
"You didn't really think I'd have the stuff in here?"
A hesitant, "No", then the man rose to follow the young thief.
A young waitress plopped a couple of drinks down on the table in
front of Carl and Becca, her eyes never leaving the slender figure of
the man leaving with Mark.
"Something wrong, honey?" Becca asked curiously.
"Huh, oh no, sugar. It's just Jacko never ceases to amaze me."
"Jacko?"
"The tall guy walking out the door."
"Why? What's so special about him?"
"Oh, half the neighborhood knows he's an undercover cop, but he
still manages to get drug dealers off the streets." She took their money
and wandered away. Checking her customers a few minutes later,
she noticed that the pair was gone, leaving their drinks untouched,
and to her disappointment, no tip.
******************
Peter climbed out of the car and headed for a near-by pay phone.
Dropping his change into the slot, he asked the operator to connect
him with the hospital. He spent the next few minutes being bounced
from one information area to the next. After depositing his second
quarter, he was finally connected to the correct room.
Helen's voice answered the phone, ["Hello?"]
"Helen? This is..."
["Peter. I know your voice, son. Where are you?"]
Knowing the older woman would instantly detect a lie, he opted
for the literal truth, "On stake-out. How are Steve and Mandy?"
["Mandy's asleep, but she'll be fine with bed rest and less stress.
Steve's in ICU but is beginning to improve."]
"Katy?"
["Being eight. She's sound asleep. Don't worry. Kids are tough."]
"How are you?"
["Better now that Steve's starting to improve and Mandy's OK. Are
you all right?"]
"Fine, just busy."
["Martin didn't say what you were doing when he came by tonight."]
"Captain Heller came by?" Peter cringed, thinking, "I'm dead."
["Of course. Steve is one of his officers."]
"Oh, yeah. Well, Helen, I've got to go. I..I'll check in later." He
quickly disconnected the line and returned to Steve's car. He glanced
at the hotel for a moment longer to remind himself that his task was
important. The powers that be could have his hide later. As he settled
back for what might be a long wait, his eyes never left the front door
of the old building.
******************
Helen quietly placed the receiver in its cradle. She stared thoughtfully
at the phone, her mind reviewing the conversation with Martin Heller and
the young man she loved like a son. Shaking her head she thought, "Peter,
baby, what have you done now?"
----------------------------------------------------------------------
part - 18 ↑
A faint haze hung over the night as Peter thrust open the dirty
door and walked quickly out of the delapidated building. A neon
sign, hanging loosely over the door, blinked an uninviting welcome
to J_KE's, the A having burned out long ago. He led the way up
the alley toward his car. The Saturn sat isolated in darkness,
shadows concealing the fact that a figure sat behind the wheel.
He could sense the tension in the man that followed him. Turning,
he spoke softly, "Over here, if the price is right."
"I'd like to see the merchandise."
"No problem." Peter fumbled clumsily with the keys for a moment
before he threw open the trunk.
"Hey, COP!" Peter whirled in unison with the tall man and stared
with horror at the business end of a 22. The gun fired in what appeared
to be slow motion...
"NOOOOO!" Peter screamed as he leaped forward, jamming his
abdomen into the steering wheel. Breathing heavily, he glanced wildly
around him and grabbed for his chest. Finding no blood, he struggled
to gather his thoughts. "Vision. That was all, a vision." He gasped
in relief, then froze, "Oh, God. The cop. The tall man was a cop.
Carl was shooting the cop." He started the engine and jerked the
Taurus away from the curb. "There may be time. Please, God, let
me be in time. OK, think, THINK Dammit! Where were they?"
He frantically replayed the chain of events in his vision, until he
focused on the sign over the bar door. "J_ke's, Jake's. I know that
place. Where? Four blocks. It's four blocks from here. No, the other
way." He quickly made an illegal U-turn and jammed the pedal to the
floor. Cutting on the car radio, he broadcast a hasty, 'Officer Needs
Assistance' call. Arriving at his destination, he slammed on brakes
and bolted from the car toward the alley. The tall man was following
a young blonde man up the alley, away from Peter and toward a parked
Saturn. A man and woman exited Jake's just ahead of the young
detective. Running as fast as he could, Peter screamed a warning as
the man in front of him pulled out a gun and took aim at the figures
retreating up the alley. The shout of, "Hey, COP!", echoed in the
Shaolin cop's ears as he tried to avert disaster.
Startled Carl whirled and got off a single shot, at Peter. The intended
target drew his own weapon and started forward, only to be forced to
leap to one side by the motion of the Saturn. Sid, for once, had been
paying attention. At the first sign of trouble, he'd thrown the car into
reverse and plowed backwards up the alley. Mark raced after the car
and helped Becca force a furious Carl into the back seat. He then
flung himself into the front as Becca slammed the back door shut.
Mark screamed, "Drive!"
"NO! FUCK YOU! I WANT HIM DEAD!" Carl raged and tried
to open the door. A near miss from the undercover cop's weapon,
calmed the angry man's temper, "Not backwards, stupid, forwards.
Get us the HELL outta here!"
Sirens in the distance closed on their location as Jacko raced
toward the recumbent form of his mysterious benefactor.
***********
The ringing phone pierced the night and Sara Heller groaned as
Martin answered sleepily, "Heller." Sitting bolt upright, he swung
his long legs out of the bed, "WHEN? ... How is he?" The latter
question pulled Sara completely awake. "I'll be right there.... No,
I'll make the call." He disconnected, then hurled the phone across
the bedroom.
Sara gently rubbed her husband's shoulders, "Martin?"
"I'm getting too old for this, Sara."
"What's happened?"
"Peter Caine took a slug meant for an undercover cop."
Horrified, his wife asked, "How is he?"
"Unconscious and bleeding. That's all I know. Look, go back to
sleep. I'm going to the hospital." Sara lay quietly as she watched
her husband dress.
"Be careful, Martin."
"Always." He smiled as he kissed her good-bye. "I'll keep you
posted."
***********
The ambulance had already departed for another run as Martin
Heller arrived at the hospital. The Captain raced into the emergency
room just as the young loaner cop disappeared behind the elevator
doors. Jack O. Lawrence paced the halls as his Captain approached.
"Jacko? What the hell happened?"
"Damned if I know, Captain. I got a nibble on the Internet chatroom
I set up and decided to reel it in. Met the guy at Jake's Bar and Grill."
He grinned sheepishly, "The next move was stupid on my part. I
mean the whole thing smelled to high heaven. I went with blondie
to the alley in front of Jake's to get the merchandise, which I don't
think was drugs. Any rate, I was getting kinda nervous then I hear
this scream of 'Nooooo'. Blondie and I turned in unison and I saw
another man with a 22. He had it raised, I'm sure it was at me, but
he whirled and fired at the other guy. The rest you know. Captain,
his id says his name is Peter Caine and that he's a cop but not from
San Francisco. Who is he?"
"The only man who's ever really seen the Marauders. They gunned
down Steve today."
"I heard." Jacko's voice was grim, "I also heard he's improving."
"You heard correctly. At any rate, are you sure these punks were
gunning for you?"
"Yes. Caine saved my life. If he hadn't screamed a warning I'd be
history now. Why, what's going on?"
"The thieves are gunning for Peter also. I thought maybe... oh well,
get with the police artist and put together pictures of this crew. I've
got phone calls to make."
"Captain, not that I'm not grateful for my life, but why was Caine
there tonight?"
"I wish I knew, Jacko, I really wish I knew."
----------------------------------------------------------------------
part - 19 ↑
A scream of "Peter" pierced the tranquil darkness of Kwai Chang
Caine's home. The priest's eyes shot open as he tried to dispel the
dream which he knew was not a nightmare. He slipped quickly off
his cot and settled into a full lotus position on the floor. Pain coursed
through his body as he fought to control his breathing. As the older
man regained his center, the pain faded away until nothing remained
but echoes, too dim to register with normal senses. To the worried
father, however, the glimmer of pain meant his son was injured, how
badly he was not sure, but the boy was unconscious. "Boy!", Caine
laughed bitterly at the thought. Peter had long since left boyhood
behind him, but try as he might, Caine often could not see his only
child in any other way. The destruction of the temple had stolen all
other memories from him. To Kwai Chang Caine, Peter was too
frequently still that twelve year old boy screaming for his aid. The
remainder of the night was spent in lonely vigil, praying for a sign
that the youngest Caine was all right.
*************
Helen Jones found herself in a hospital waiting room for the
second time in less than twenty-four hours. Martin Heller started
to greet the bleary-eyed woman as she walked through the door, but
she was in no mode for the normal pleasantries, "Martin, how's
Peter? What happened?"
The Captain replied, "I'm told he'll be fine. The bullet just grazed
his head."
"Thank God! Where is he?"
"He was unconscious at the scene. Jacko said he took a hard hit
to the head when he went down so they're doing a catscan to make
sure he doesn't have a concussion. Looks like he may be a resident
here for a few days too."
Helen smiled, "Martin, you don't know Peter Caine."
"I'm sorry?"
"That young man will be out of here as soon as he can stand up
without falling over."
*************
The sun was rising as Caine got the assurance he was so urgently
seeking. Kermit Griffin arrived with the dawn, and shook his head
in disbelief as the older man quickly asked, "How is my son?"
"He'll be fine, Caine. Just heard from San Francisco, a Captain
Heller. He was shot, but not injured severely. Bullet nicked him
but he was knocked out.
Caine breathed a sigh of relief, "He is still unconscious?"
"Yes," Kermit grinned, "Once they were sure he didn't have a
skull fracture or concussion, the doctor took some preventative
measures. Peter's reputation has preceded him. Based on his LAST
stay in the hospital out there, the doctor ordered a sedative to keep
him out for a few more hours. For some absurd reason, they want
to keep him there."
"How is Steven?"
"Improving but still in bad shape. Mandy's better, too."
The Shaolin was shocked, "Amanda has been injured?"
"I'm sorry, Caine, I just found out myself. Amanda's had some
problems with her pregnancy and the stress of Steve's shooting has
put her on bed rest." Kermit hesitated, "Caine, I know you didn't
want to interfere without Peter asking, but the Captain has ordered
me to San Francisco. I figured now that Peter's been injured, you
might change your mind and go with me."
Relief was plainly visible in the father's face, "I will go."
*************
Sid slammed the newspaper against the nearest wall, "I don't
believe it! Nothing. A cop gets shot in an alley and it's not even in
the paper."
Carl looked knowingly at Mark, "You see..."
"I suppose it's possible."
"I'm sure of it."
Sid looked from one man to the other in confusion, "What's possible?"
"That Caine's dead." Carl looked smug, "I told you I hit him."
Mark interrupted, "I hate to break it to you but it's just as likely that
the guy wasn't hurt at all."
As Carl slammed Mark into the wall, Becca muttered, "Stupid, Mark,
real stupid."
"I TOLD you I hit him. He's out of our hair now. San Francisco is
ours."
*************
Peter Caine groaned and slowly opened his eyes. An angel with white
hair smiled down at him. "Oh, hi Helen."
"Hi yourself, Peter Caine. How are you feeling?"
"Head hurts." He glanced around the hospital room, "What happened?"
A stern voice answered, "You were shot."
The instinctive sarcastic retort died on Peter's lips as he caught sight
of Martin Heller's face, "I see, that explains the headache."
"Is that ALL you have to say?"
"Sir?"
Helen quickly interrupted, "You two seem to have a lot to talk about.
I'll just leave you alone." She quickly kissed Peter's forehead, ignoring
his mute appeal to remain, and disappeared through the door before
her resolve was gone.
"Why didn't you do as I requested and come back to the hospital?"
"I...I needed to think," Peter rubbed his aching head gingerly as
he spoke, "so I went to the Japanese Gardens to meditate." Even
as the words slipped out he knew he'd made a mistake.
"The gardens are nowhere near Chinatown."
"No, sir. They're not."
"What were you doing in that alley?"
"I, uh, I ...." Peter for once had no idea what to say. Captain Heller
was a stranger to him. Simms had had major difficulty in believing
in Peter's 'flashes of insight' as he'd once heard her describe them,
Heller would probably have him moved to the psychiatric unit.
"Detective Caine! Why were you in that alley?"
Peter braced himself, "I knew the other cop was in trouble. Is he
OK?"
"Yes, you saved his life, and we're all very grateful. But you haven't
answered my question, how did you know he was in trouble?"
"I..I had a vision." Peter spoke so softly that Martin had difficulty
hearing him.
"Excuse me?"
Peter took a deep breath and, ignoring the little man with the jack
hammer that was trapped in his skull, tried again, "I had a vision that
showed the cop being shot in the alley. I knew where the place was
from my last stay in Chinatown, so I went there to try to save him."
"A vision?" Martin just stared at the young detective.
"Yes, sir." Peter continued hastily before the Captain could respond,
"Sir, I know it sounds funny, but it's really true. I was seeing through
someone else's eyes, someone named Mark. He was with the cop..."
Martin started to speak, but Peter continued in a rush, "and Captain,
these guys are our jewelry store thieves. You can call my precinct back
home, they'll vouch for..."
"Son..."
"my visions or better yet, talk to Helen..."
"Peter..."
"she knows about them..."
"CAINE!"
"Sir?"
"Two things, one - are you this much trouble back home? And two,
Peter, this is California, WE believe in visions."
----------------------------------------------------------------------
part - 20 ↑
Peter stared in disbelief at his temporary commanding officer,
"You believe me?"
Despite his obvious annoyance with the younger man, Heller had
to smile, "I think this disbelief thing is going in the wrong direction,
but, yes, Caine, to put it bluntly, I believe it's entirely possible that
you've had visions. I'm going to have several people interview you
and determine just how reliable yours are going to be."
"You mean shrinks." The disgust in Peter's tone only served to
widen the grin on Heller's face.
"As a matter of fact, a shrink, may even two, will be included in the
interviewer list. But our psychic phenomenon consultant will also be
involved."
Peter's mouth dropped open, "Your what?"
Heller laughed openly now, "You know, son, it's a good thing you
have second sight, cause I think your hearing's about shot."
************
Becca lay in the bed next to Carl and listened to him snore. The
near fiasco of the previous night had frazzled all their nerves, and
exhaustion had taken its toll. Mark and Sid had crashed a few hours
earlier, allowing the lovers ample quality time together. Now that she'd
awakened from her nap, Becca couldn't help but wonder about the
feeling of impending doom she'd had for the last several hours. Carl
was convinced that the cop was out of their hair for good, but she was
not so sure. After all, she reasoned, just because nothing was in the
paper, didn't mean he'd died and the cops were trying to hide it. Could
be just the opposite; that Caine jerk could be fine. A loud snort from
the man next to her released her from her state of lethargy. She slipped
quickly into the skin-tight jeans she preferred and opted against wearing
a bra under her light blue T-shirt. Bare feet tip-toed across the room
as she slipped quietly into the hall. It was almost time for the night
manager to come on duty, and for some reason she couldn't fathom,
Becca really wanted to speak with the old goat.
************
For over two hours Peter Caine was grilled by a wide variety of
personnel on his visions. Despite the Captain's avowal that visions
were acceptable in California, Peter strongly suspected that the second
and the fourth interviewers were shrinks. Interrogator number one was
a very attractive, middle-aged woman with extremely overt maternal
tendencies. She sketched his descriptions quickly and accurately, all
the while positively oozing sympathy for his ordeal. The second
individual to question him was male, about thirty-five, and asked all
the double-edged questions that Peter expected from a psychiatrist.
The young detective breathed a sigh of relief as the man departed,
still pouring over his notes. The third man to arrive was Jacko, who
cautiously pushed his head around the door before allowing his body
to follow, "Detective Caine? Good, you're between guests. I wanted
to catch you alone and thank you."
Peter looked up from the bed where he was imprisoned. He stared
blankly for a moment before memory kicked in, "Are you all right?
I don't even know your name."
"I'm fine thanks to you. Name's Jack Lawrence, middle initial 'O',
call me Jacko. That's a rough crowd you're playing with."
"Yeah, they're not... you know?"
"About the visions, yep, just about everyone in the Chinatown
precinct knows. Don't worry, only about a third think you're nuts."
"Terrific."
Jacko grinned, "Well I came by to thank you and to let you know
the bad news."
"Which is?"
"They've flown the coop. Captain sent a few of us to the hotel you
were watching..."
"He did?"
"Yeah, he told you he believed your visions. Anyway, the gang's
split, but it was obvious they left in a hurry. That coin collection
from the last robbery was still in the room, along with a few other
things. The manager's also being more than cooperative. He's rounding
up every piece of trivia he can on these guys."
"He didn't seem to be the public spirited type."
"He's not. They skipped without paying the bill."
Peter laughed, then moaned as his headache reminded him why
he was still in bed.
Jacko eyed him sympathetically, "Pain-killers wearing off?"
"Oh yeah!"
"I'll call a nurse."
"No! But thanks anyway. I'm better off without it. I'm being sprung
soon, I hope."
"Well, I better go. You've got more people waiting in line to talk
to you."
"Any of them the ones that think I'm nuts?"
Jacko grinned, "Probably, but you'd better know, the third that thought
you were nuts, well they thought that BEFORE the visions." Jacko
ducked out quickly, allowing the next visitor in as he left.
************
The green Suburban drove past the Chinatown homeless shelter,
its four occupants gazing curiously at the display of flashing lights
in front of the old hotel. Curiosity satisfied, the driver sped up and
disappeared into traffic. As they drove away, Sid commented, "Looks
like you were right, Becca. The guy that talked to the manager last
night had to be that cop Caine."
************
To his infinite relief, and that of the nursing staff, the doctors opted
to release Peter and certified him fit for duty. Martin Heller delivered
the good news personally along with sad news; Steve Jones had taken
a turn for the worse. Peter arrived in ICU as Steve was being wheeled
toward surgery. Helen Jones leaned against the wall, tears streaming
down her face. Peter stared with horror at the ghost pale face of his
friend as the gurney disappeared into the elevator. Turning to Helen,
he held out his arms and she folded into them, trembling, "H..He
started bleeding internally, Peter. They're going to have to o..operate
again."
"I'm so sorry, Helen." He glanced quickly around, "Where's Katy?"
"Martha took her to the shelter. Katy has friends there and it's a
much better environment than a hospital waiting room."
Peter nodded his understanding, then added "Helen, does Mandy
know?"
"Not yet, I'm going to tell her now. Will you come with me?"
"Of course, Helen. How's she doing?"
The older woman shook her head, "Not good. Peter, she's had
problems with this pregnancy all along. Her doctor's got her on heavy
medication now for toxemia. I...I'm afraid much more stress is going
to send her into premature labor. She'd lose the baby if that happens.
It's too early for him to survive."
************
As fate would have it, Peter Caine was officially discharged moments
before Kwai Chang Caine and Kermit Griffin walked through the front
entrance. The two men were force to dodge the local media as they
entered the old building. Caine looked surprised by the numbers of
men and women with press badges waiting with varying degrees of
patience on the front lawn. "There are so many news people here.
I wonder what they are waiting on."
Kermit sighed, "Probably Peter."
************
The green Suburban sat in the parking lot of the fast food restaurant
across the street from the hospital. Becca slipped into the front seat
next to Carl. Turning to the man, she spoke calmly, "Not only is he
alive, but I've been told that he's not even a patient."
He started to curse, but a finger on his lips silenced him, "But I
did get interesting news. That is if you want Peter Caine out of
our lives permanently." She gasped in pain as Carl squeezed her
wrists tightly together, then whimpered, "Carl, you're hurting me."
Carl loosened his hold but kept control of her wrists, "You know
I want him handled."
"OK, OK, well, it's amazing what you can find out from a young
reporter when you show a little cleavage. Remember, Caine's the
godfather of the Jones kid. I'm told," she added smugly, "that Caine
would walk through fire for her and the kid's staying at the Chinatown
Shelter, unguarded."
----------------------------------------------------------------------
part - 21 ↑
"Ms. Applebee, is it?" Martha O'Brien dried her hands on a dish
towel as she sized up the young woman standing in front of her. "What
can I do for you?"
"Actually, it's the other way around, my woman's auxiliary group
heard of the shooting of Mrs. Jones' son, and knowing she'd be away
from the shelter for an extended period of time, we thought you might
need some help. So here I am."
Martha smiled, "That's mighty kind of you, Ms. Applebee, but we're
doing fine, thank you." She was interrupted by the sound of running
feet. A herd of children dashed into the kitchen, led by a breathless
little girl, "Miss Martha..."
The fifty-something red-head held up her hand to silence the hoard.
"You kids know the rules, no running indoors and no one under ten
is allowed in the kitchen while a meal's being prepared."
"We're sorry, Miss Martha, but..."
"No 'buts', young lady, I'll be out in the main room in a minute.
Whatever you need can wait until then. Now scoot." The youngsters
grumbled to themselves as they reluctantly left the kitchen.
"Oh those poor darlings!" Ms. Applebee gasped as the door slammed
shut behind the last of the children. "It's so sad that they're all homeless."
Martha smiled and looked lovingly after the group, "Not all. Now as
I was saying, since Steve was injured, we've had a lot of volunteers
from the neighborhood, so you see Ms. Applebee, you'd be better off
helping out at a shelter nearer your home." As she spoke she walked
from kitchen to the main room, young visitor in tow, "Jesse?"
"Yes, Miss Martha?" A young teenager crossed the room to join the
pair.
"Please show Ms. Applebee out." Martha nodded briefly to the stunned
woman, then headed toward the group of impatiently waiting children.
"This way." The youngster weaved his way expertly through a maze
of people and furnishings.
"Jesse, is it?"
"Yeah?"
"Isn't that little brunette girl over there Mrs. Jones's granddaughter?"
"Naw, that's Margaret. Katy's the blond kid talking to Miss Martha."
Ms. Applebee smiled to herself as she fixed her sights on Katy, "Oh,
I see. Thank you, Jesse."
"OK. Here's the door."
****************
"Peter Caine's room number please. That's C-A-I-N-E."
"Yes, sir." The little brunette entered the name into her PC and
waited expectantly for its reply. She frowned as the words flashed
onto the screen, "I'm sorry, sir. Mr. Caine was discharged a few
hours ago. He's probably left by now."
"He has not." Caine's tone was soft but firm.
"Sir, I'm sure you're mistaken, he's been discharged..."
"Discharged, but still here. We need to find him." Kermit smiled
at the young woman.
"I really don't have any way of knowing if he's still in the hospital
or not." The young receptionist returned his smile and stared
curiously at his older companion..
Kermit Griffin took a deep breath, then replied, "Look, this is his
father, from out of town. We've only just arrived and need to find
him. Is there anyone else we could speak with?"
The girl looked momentarily flustered, "Sir, there's nobody here
who'll know more than the computer."
"Katherine, what seems to be the problem?" An older woman
approached the pair at the desk.
"Oh, Miss Johnson, these gentlemen are looking for a Peter Caine
who's not in the computer anymore. I was just explaining that we
don't know where he is."
"I see, perhaps I can help you gentlemen," she edged away from
the desk as the girl answered the phone, "Mr. Caine was discharged
but I believe you may find him in the surgical waiting area. I just
got word that the injured police officer has been rushed back to
surgery."
****************
"Mr. Caine, phone call, line 3."
Peter nodded curtly, gave Helen a warm hug, then moved to the
receptionist area to take the call. Martin Heller had been called
away to review new evidence from the Chinatown Hotel search
so the young detective was alone with his best friend's mother.
"Caine."
The voice on the other end of the line chilled him to the bone,
"She's such a pretty little thing, Peter. The Jones kid that is."
Keeping his voice low, Peter snarled, "What do you want?"
"You, Detective Peter Caine. You and don't get any ideas about
sending help to the shelter. She'll be long gone by the time it arrives,
and if by some mischance, it does arrive too soon, then all those
dead children will be your fault. Might even shoot Miss Martha for
good measure."
"Where?" The words were hissed rather than spoken.
"Gull Rock. Be there by nine and come alone."
"Where?" Peter was frantically trying to place the location.
"You're the detective, you find it."
The connection had barely severed before Peter was dialing the
shelter phone. It was no surprise to the young man that an automated
attendant announced that the line was temporarily out of service. Still
holding the handset to his ear, he struggled for control. He forced his
anger and fear down, allowing an air of serenity to mask his features.
Returning to Helen, he smiled, "I've got to go check something out,
Helen. Did Captain Heller happen to tell you where he left Steve's
car?"
"No, but I had Joseph bring Mandy's Escort from their house, it's
parked in lot A. Here's the keys and the parking stub. What's wrong?
"Oh. I, uh, I've just gotta check on a lead," he replied quickly, "I'll be
back as soon as I can." He turned and moved swiftly toward the door.
As he disappeared through the exit, Helen shook her head and sighed,
"Peter Matthew Caine, I see it's time I had the 'lying' discussion with
you again."
****************
At exactly the same moment that Kwai Chang Caine and Kermit exited
the elevator on the surgical floor, Peter Caine flew from the hospital toward
parking lot A. Kermit glanced at Caine's troubled face and asked, "What's
wrong?"
"I do not know, but my son is no longer nearby, and he is very angry."
****************
Carl smiled as he returned to the white Dodge van. Slipping into the
passenger seat, he spoke to Becca, "That's done, where are dumb and
dumber? They should be back by now with the kid."
The side door of the van flew open and a very frightened pair clambered
in. Mark yelped, "Drive!" at the top of his lungs.
Becca gunned the engine and swerved out into traffic, barely avoiding
a collision with a truck. Carl eyed his partners angrily, "What the hell
happened?"
Mark gasped for breath, "Sid let the kid scream, but he still had hold
of her, when some bald guy appeared out of nowhere and kicked the
daylights out of him. I tried to help but the guy could flat throw a
punch. What now?"
"Did you morons manage to cut the phone wires?"
"Yeah."
"Then we proceed as planned."
"But we don't have the kid."
Carl smirked wickedly, "Yeah, but Caine doesn't know that. Even
if he finds out, do you really think he won't show up at Gull Rock?"
"Well, yeah, but won't he bring back-up?"
"Not as pissed as he sounded. We made this personal when we
'grabbed' the kid."
----------------------------------------------------------------------
part - 22 ↑
Peter frantically raced across parking lot A searching for the teal
colored Escort he'd seen in the Jones' driveway. He finally found
two teal Escorts parked side by side in the third row. Naturally,
the key did not work on the first car. To save time Peter leaped
across its hood to reach the second. Viciously twisting the key,
he unlocked the door and dropped into the driver's seat. As he
started the engine, he opened the glove box, praying that Mandy
would keep a map of the area on hand. Finding one, he pulled its
fan folds apart and perused the index for Gull Rock. It took less time
than he'd expected to find the location north of San Francisco on
the Coast Highway. Dropping the map to the passenger seat, Peter
pointed the little car toward the Golden Gate Bridge. It appeared
to be quite a ways to Gull Rock and Peter knew that time was of the
essence.
A mental whisper brushed his mind and for a moment he thought
he'd heard his father call him. Anger overrode his natural instincts
as he shrugged off the idea. Taking a deep breath he concentrated
on making it out of San Francisco without attracting the unwanted
attention of the local police. Every cop instinct he owned told him
that the right thing to do was to call for backup, but he could not. Kwai
Chang Caine's words echoed in his ears, "The man is the same as the
boy, only more so." The man that he was dictated that his heart must
rule; the love he had for the Jones' clan forced his actions to take a
different tack. Peter knew that because of his failures, Steve was
fighting for his life while Mandy fought for the life of their baby.
Katy was the only bright spot in his entire visit and Shaolin or not,
he'd personally send anyone who threatened her safety straight to hell.
************
Kermit paused to stare at Caine, "Angry? Well that makes sense.
Look what he's up against here."
"You misunderstand. He has justifiable anger at the perpetrators
of these crimes. I have felt his anger and frustration, but always I
knew I could reach him if it became necessary. But now, his rage
has become a white hot entity that threatens to come alive with only
retribution in mind. I cannot reach him, Kermit, and I fear for the
safety of his body, and his soul."
Kermit's reply was interrupted by a soft voice nearby, "Kermit Griffin?"
Helen Jones' haggard face appeared in the doorway to the waiting area.
The ex-mercenary moved toward the older woman. "Helen, I am so
sorry about Steve and Mandy."
She acknowledged his sympathetic remarks graciously then looked
closely at Kermit's companion, "Kwai Chang Caine?"
Caine bowed deeply, "I am honored to finally be able to meet the
woman who saved my son so many months ago. I will forever be in
your debt."
"Peter is one of the special ones. Helping him did more for me than
it did for him."
Caine once again bowed and nodded, "Steven is also special, Mrs. Jones.
How is he?"
"It's Helen, and he's back in surgery to stop internal bleeding. I'm told
that this surgery will not take nearly as long as the last."
Kermit put his arm around her shoulder, "How's Mandy?"
Troubled eyes met his and her voice broke, "Not good. I..I'm afraid
she's going to lose the baby."
************
In his previous stay in San Francisco, Peter had not made it out of the
city, so he was unfamiliar with the territory north of his present position.
So great was his rage, that he completely missed the beauty around him.
The Golden Gate bridge, to his mind, was just another bridge, and the
towns along Highway 101 held little or no significance for him. By the
time he'd made the turn onto Highway 1, circumstance forced his mood
to change. He rounded one of the sharp curves for which the Coast
Highway is famous, and met a truck. Both he, and the other driver
quickly corrected the position of their vehicles and miraculously missed
each other.
Taking a deep breath, Peter muttered, "Whoa, that was too close.
Got to calm down." He slowed the speed of the little car and noticed,
even in the dimming light, the natural beauty of his location. As he
allowed the serenity of the hills to soothe his troubled spirit, he realized
for the first time that he'd had no vision of Katy, what-so-ever. "Why?
I've had visions of total strangers, but nothing on her. That doesn't
make sense." Frowning, he tried to visualize the little girl, and was
startled to find that he didn't pick up 'danger' in relation to the child.
Reaching a tourist scenic overlook, he pulled the car over and turned
off the engine. After a brief inner struggle, he succeeded in pushing
his anger and fear aside. Able to concentrate solely on Katy, he smiled
when he observed her blond hair bouncing as she played in the small
playground that stood behind the Chinatown shelter. From the amount
of daylight in his vision, Peter knew he was seeing the past. A ball
sailed over the fence, and Katy dashed to the gate, hesitating only
slightly as she undid the latch and chased it into the alley. "Your
daddy's gonna have fits, baby girl. You know better than that."
Peter muttered to himself. To his horror he saw the man known as
Sid pull the startled child into his arms.
A sudden haze appeared to blur the images in his mind, and Peter
knew his rising anger was affecting his ability to see what had truly
happened. Taking a short moment to center himself, the haze cleared
and he was able to see a man come out of nowhere to wrest Katy from
her abductor's arms. A second man, whom Peter recognized from a
previous vision, attempted to stop him but was likewise thwarted. To
Peter Caine's relief, the would-be abductors fled, leaving Katy crying
in the arms of a man he thought he recognized. His vision ended abruptly,
before he could get a good look at her savior. Knowing the child was
safe, he breathed a sigh of relief and shame. He'd allowed his emotions
to gain the upper hand, and was now caught between the proverbial
rock and a hard place. He had no way to communicate his location and
there was no time to stop. The vermin who'd been the bane of his
existence were waiting for a showdown.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
part - 23 ↑
Kermit's voice contained pure sorrow, "Oh, Helen, I am so sorry.
Isn't there anything the doctors can do for her?"
"They're treating her toxemia, but Peter's injury really scared her.
Even though she's seen him, she's worried about him being back on
the job so soon. Now the stress of Steve's being back in surgery...."
"Forgive my asking, but was it a good idea to tell Mandy?"
Helen sighed, "I haven't told her yet, but I'm betting she knows."
"May I see Amanda?"
"I'm sorry Caine, her doctor wants her to rest."
As Caine nodded his understanding, Kermit butted in, "Helen, Caine
is an apothecary. He's very skilled in healing and I think he'll be able
to help Mandy."
"But the doctors..."
"Forget the doctors, Helen, betting folks put their money on Caine.
You know, Come to Chinatown, Ask for Caine, He will help you."
Helen saw the sincerity in Kermit's face and turned to the Shaolin,
"Do you think you can help Mandy?"
Kwai Chang Caine shrugged, "I do not know. I would like to try."
"What about Peter?" Kermit asked, suddenly remembering that
the Shaolin's son was also in danger.
Caine tilted his head as if listening to something in the distance then
replied sadly, "I cannot help my son. He is not 'listening'. I must now
concentrate on helping his friends."
**************
Captain Martin Heller stalked into the Chinatown shelter. A young
patrolman stood just inside the door looking very grim. "Hortez,
what's the situation?"
"Some asshole, pardon me sir, tried to kidnap Katy Jones. Thank God
he didn't get away with it! The handyman was out back and stopped him,
uh, them"
"Any description on the perps?" Martin was struggling retain a professional
air.
"The handyman's with the artist right now."
"Where's Katy?"
"With Mrs. O'Brien in the office. She's fine, sir. Shaken up but fine."
"Thank you, Hortez. You've got the front door?"
"Yes, sir. My partner, Roberts, has the back." He added, "No one is
going to touch that child again, sir. At least not and live."
Heller stared at the young man for a moment, "While I agree with the
sentiment, son, I'd keep it to myself if I were you."
"Yes, sir."
**************
"Mandy, baby?" Helen spoke softly as she opened the door, not
wanting to disturb the young woman if she was sleeping.
"I'm awake Helen," a tearful voice replied. "Steve?"
"Back in surgery, darling, but I'm confident he'll be OK." She paused
for a moment, then added "Peter's father is here. Do you feel up to
seeing him?
"I..I guess so."
Kwai Chang Caine moved swiftly to the young woman's side,
"Amanda, I am very sorry you are having these troubles. May I
examine your chi and that of the baby?"
Mandy stared for a moment at the older man. Working in the
Chinatown area, she was very familiar with the Eastern concept of
chi. She'd also heard Peter tell stories that she'd dismissed at the
time as the exaggerations of a devoted son. But now her baby's life
was on the line and she'd sell her soul to keep the little one safe. She
tearfully nodded her consent. Caine gently touched her face, then
closed his eyes and went to work. As Amanda relaxed, Helen slipped
away to return to her vigil on another floor.
**************
Kermit nervously paced the surgical waiting room. It had been decided
that he would remain there in case news came of Steve. Helen was to
escort Caine to Mandy, then return as soon as possible.
A soft voice broke through his thoughts, "Excuse me, I'm looking for
Helen Jones."
Kermit turned to face a handsome woman in her early fifties. He
frowned, "And you would be?"
"Not the media." She smiled, picking up on his first concern, "I'm
Sara Heller. Captain Martin Heller is my husband. The hospital's
pretty well closed down to members of the press."
"Kermit Griffin, friend of Peter Caine's and the Joneses. Helen will be
back in a moment. Can I help you with something?"
The woman hesitated a moment, but was interrupted by another female
voice before she could speak, "Mrs. Heller? Is something wrong?"
"Oh, Mrs. Jones. No, not anymore." she took a deep breath, "Oh, dear.
I'm doing this badly. Martin thought this would come better from me."
"What would?" Both Helen and Kermit were now alarmed.
"Someone tried to kidnap Katy at the Shelter, but she's safe."
Helen Jones stumbled and would have gone to the floor had Kermit
not caught her. "Oh, God, Oh God."
"She's safe. The handyman stopped them and Martin's got officers
on duty there now. Martin says he'll bring Katy back here as quickly
as he can."
**************
Martha O'Brien was rocking the child as Martin entered the office.
The tearstains on the little face were almost dry and no new tears
threatened to fall. Martin strongly suspected that the physical contact
was now more for the woman's benefit than for the child's.
Nodding to the older woman, Martin knelt to be on eye-level with
the child, "Hello, Katy, do you remember me?"
"Ah ha. You're Daddy's boss. He likes you, you know."
Smiling, Martin cleared his throat, "That's good. Now, Katy, I really
need for you to tell me what happened."
"ALL of it?"
Fear almost cost the Captain his voice, "Y..yes, baby, all of it."
She sighed in resignation, "OK, but do you gotta tell Daddy? He's
gonna be mad."
"We'll see." Heller responded.
"OK. Well, the ball went over the fence, so I went to get it..."
Martha started to speak but a slight shake from Martin's head
stopped her.
"That's why Daddy's gonna be mad. I'm not supposed to go down
the alley without a grown-up." She started to tear-up again, whether
from fear of punishment or fear of the actual event, Martin could
not be sure.
Martin touched her face gently, "Go ahead, Katy."
"Then this man picked me up and Mr. K came out of nowhere and
made him let go and then this other guy tried to hit Mr. K but couldn't
so they ran away. Mr. K really kicked their butts, didn't he Miss Martha?"
The older woman nodded as Captain Heller inquired, "Mr. K?"
"Our handyman, he's been with us since Christmas. Started working
here while Steve, Mandy and Katy were out of town visiting Uncle Peter.
Very nice man, quiet but nice. Name's Kahn and he's got these funny
tattoos on his arms - a tiger and a dragon, I think."
----------------------------------------------------------------------
part - 24 ↑
Mark restlessly paced the craggy slopes near Gull Rock. Becca had
lost track of the number of times the man had stopped and looked
over the edge at the drop into the sea and the rocks below.
"Mark, stop pacing, you're making me nervous." The man stopped
his restless motion but noted that her voice belied her words, she was
calm, too calm.
"Sorry, Becca, I just don't see how this is gonna work. Caine's gonna
know we don't have the kid and he's not gonna fall for this trap."
Carl glared at the other man, "Are you saying I'm stupid, Mark?"
Realizing his error, Mark backed up slightly, hands raised in
apology, "No, Carl, nothing like that. I'm just tired." He turned
and stared again into the depths.
"It's OK, Mark. It is a small problem, not having the kid, but
not an insurmountable one." Sid gave a small gasp as Carl pulled
out his 22 and put a bullet between Mark's shoulder blades. The
dying man turned slightly and gasped a faint "Why?" as he lost his
balance and fell over the edge. Even in the waning light, Sid could
see the fear and horror etched on his companion's face as he fell.
"Hand me the light, Becca," Carl commanded as he walked toward
the edge.
The young woman yawned and brought him the Mag-light. Snatching
it from her hands, he aimed its powerful beam down the ravine. Mark's
body was wedged between a couple of large boulders so that only his
head was visible. "Now that's what I call luck."
"W..What is?" Sid asked tremulously, fearing he might be next.
"Why, you don't have to climb down and reposition the body. When
Caine gets here, all he'll be able to see is a blond head. That should be
enough to send him over the edge, so to speak."
************
"You must drink it all," Caine admonished his patient.
"I'm sorry, but the smell..." Mandy tried in vain to pull the steaming
cup of herbal tea to her lips.
"Ah!' Caine reached into his ever-present pouch and pulled out a
leaf. Crushing it between his fingers, he held it under her nose. "This
will obscure the scent."
Looking skeptical, Mandy again lifted the cup to her lips. This time
she was able to drink the brew. "It doesn't taste too good, either, but
somehow that doesn't bother me."
Caine smiled and gently patted her cheek, "It would if your sense
of smell had not been dulled."
"I can't believe the doctor didn't argue with this herbal concoction."
"She is very wise and cares only for the welfare of her patient, not
her pride." Caine said approvingly. "I was able to convince her that
the ingredients in the tea would not hurt you."
"Will it help?" Mandy looked sorrowfully at the older man.
"It will, but you must drink it every two hours for the first day, then
every four for the next six days."
"Great," the young woman muttered, "With the way my bladder's
been doing lately, I'll probably drown."
************
Peter was just turning onto the coast highway, when back at the
hospital, Helen Jones was busy putting two and two together. "The
phone call." she muttered angrily.
"What phone call?" Kermit asked.
"Before he left, Peter got a phone call which bothered him a great
deal."
"And you think it was the people who tried to kidnap Katy?"
"I'd be willing to bet on it." Her remaining comments were halted
as a child's voice screamed down the hospital hallway, "Guess what,
Grandmomma, I got to ride in a police car." The excited eight year
old scampered away from a cringing Captain Heller and raced toward
a very pale Helen Jones.
Gathering the child into her arms, Helen clutched her tightly and
fought to keep from crying. Kermit almost laughed as the child spoke
loudly, "Grandmomma, you're hurting me."
"I'm sorry, baby, and please don't talk so loudly. There are sick
people here who need to sleep."
"Where?" Katy looked around curiously.
"What?"
"Where are the sick people?"
"They're in, oh, never mind, just don't talk so loudly."
"OK." The elevator doors opened and Kwai Chang Caine walked
toward them. The excited little girl turned at breakneck speed and
headed for the Shaolin, "Ohhh, Mr. Caine! I rode in a police car!"
"That is nice, Katy." Caine smiled at the child as he lifted her into
his arms.
"Ah ha, but they didn't use the horns."
"Sirens, Katy." Captain Heller corrected, barely able to contain his
laughter.
"Horns, sirens, whatever. Mr. Caine, is Uncle Peter gonna come back
soon?"
"I do not...." Caine stopped speaking and paused, listening to something
the others could not hear.
Kermit was concerned, "Caine?"
"His anger is gone." Caine smiled, "Peter can hear me now, if he
so chooses."
************
Initially, Peter had been too engrossed in reaching Gull Rock to notice
that the further north he drove from San Francisco, the more isolated the
area became. He was already well past the Muir Woods turn-off and
some sort of military reservation when he'd pulled over to the side of the
road. He really wanted a phone, but knew he'd passed none recently.
Hoping there might be one up ahead, he started the car and drove on.
************
"What do you mean, 'if he chooses'?" Kermit was clearly frustrated,
"Get his attention. Yell at him. Something, anything!"
"I am sorry, it does not work that way. It is more like a telephone.
I can call, but if you refuse to answer, we cannot speak. Peter will
hear the 'ring', but he may not decide to take the call."
"Great, then how do we get hold of him?"
"I will meditate and try to reach him. Otherwise, we can only wait."
Kermit looked troubled, "Caine, we may not have the time. Helen
thinks Peter was contacted by the would-be kidnappers. Knowing
Peter, he's probably on his way to meet them, without backup. And
he doesn't know Katy's safe."
*************
Peter stopped the car and turned on the map light. He'd traveled quite
a ways and still had further to go, but still hadn't seen a phone. These
maniacs had to be stopped. Peter knew he couldn't turn back and wait
for them to try again. They'd almost gotten Katy. There was nothing
to prevent them from doing something else to get to him. For a reason
he could not fathom, this group of slime wanted him badly.
If he was right, the criminals would be waiting on him, expecting him
to walk into their trap. They wouldn't know he knew the child was safe.
That meant he just might have a slight edge. "Oughtta be enough,"
he muttered to himself as he steered the car back onto the highway,
"It'll have to be enough."
----------------------------------------------------------------------
part - 25 ↑
Caine looked sorrowfully at Kermit, "He knows."
"Excuse me?"
"I believe that Peter knows the child is safe. I suspect that is why
his anger has receded."
"Then why the hell doesn't he call for back... Never mind, this is
Peter we're talking about." Kermit punched the nearest wall, hard.
"Yes," Caine sighed, "It is."
**************
Sid nervously chewed his lower lip. He couldn't believe Mark was
dead, that Carl had killed him. His thoughts kept circling to how much
longer he would survive. He knew that Carl always considered him
and Mark to be a set. He also knew he wasn't smart, not like Mark and
certainly not like Carl. Becca too was in a whole different league. A
jingle in his pocket suddenly reminded him that he had the keys to their
latest stolen vehicle. If he could get to the driver's side, without Carl
or Becca noticing, he might just get away with his life.
***************
Captain Heller had briefly greeted his wife, then went for the phone to
answer a page. Kermit noted out of the corner of his eye that Heller
made a couple of phone calls, alternating between frowns and smiles.
Disconnecting for good, Heller made his way over to where the two men were
conversing with Helen. "I apologize, gentlemen, I'm Martin Heller, Steve's Captain and you are?"
"Kermit Griffin, coworker of Peter's and this is his father, Kwai Chang
Caine."
"Ah yes, one of the messages I received said you were on the way to
check on Peter. He's, uh, a tad zealous, shall we say?"
"I would have thought stubborn would be a better description, but I'll
go with zealous."
Heller grinned, "Yes, well, gentlemen, I really hate to leave you here, but
we have a lead on the jewelry thieves that sounds really promising. I need
to check it out."
"I'd like to come with you, if I may?" Kermit asked.
"I'm sorry, Detective Griffin, but I have no clearance to take you. I
promise that I'll be back in touch as soon as possible." With that the
Captain left.
Kermit glared after the man for a moment, then hit the wall again.
Katy looked curiously at the ex-mercenary, "Why'd you hit the wall?"
Turning, Kermit touched the child's hair, "I'm a little upset right
now, Katy."
"Oh. Mr. K says that hitting stuff when you're mad, doesn't help.
He says you should, should metate."
Caine and Kermit looked bewildered as Helen translated, "You mean
meditate, Katy." The older woman smiled at the child, "Mr. Kahn is
teaching meditation and Kung Fu at the shelter. In between chores,
that is."
"Kahn is in San Francisco?" Caine's voice revealed his surprise.
"You know him?" Helen asked equally surprised.
"Yes, he is an old friend. I did not know he was here."
"He came to live and work in the shelter last Christmas, when all
that trouble was..." Helen's voice broke off in confusion.
"I do not understand." Caine's voice was also baffled.
Kermit grinned, "It's my fault. I, uh, asked him to look into things
at the shelter." Helen and Caine looked at him in astonishment. "Well,"
he muttered defensively, "someone had to make sure Helen was safe."
***************
Peter slowed the car and checked his location. He was still about
two miles from his destination, but only one as the crow flies. If he
was going to have any chance at all, the element of surprise would be
it. He worked to center himself, knowing he would need all of his
instincts to move silently through the woods in the darkness. "Pop,
I wish I had your night vision right now. I could sure use it."
["Peter?"]
The stunned young man dropped back into the driver's seat, "Pop?"
["My son, where are you?"]
"On the coast highway, Pop, heading for a place called Gull Rock."
["My son, you must..."]
"I know, Pop, be careful. I will. I'm leaving the car and going in on
foot."
["Peter, we..."]
"Sorry, Pop. Gotta run. Don't worry." With that the young Shaolin
shut down his connection. "That was strange," he muttered to himself,
"I didn't realize the it would be that strong with Pop so far away." He
ignored the tickle at the base of his skull as he quickly locked Mandy's
car and headed carefully off through the woods, his penlight and map
stuffed securely in an inside pocket.
***************
The little chapel where Caine had gone to meditate was too quiet for
Kermit's tastes. The ex-mercenary watched as the older man concentrated
on reaching his son. Without warning, Caine lunged to his feet, and
staggered forward, gasping out, "Peter, no!" as Kermit grabbed his arm.
"What's wrong?" Kermit maintained a steadying grip on the Shaolin's
elbow.
"Peter is pursuing the criminals to a place called Gull Rock. He told me..."
"You got through to him?" Kermit was thrilled.
"More or less," Caine replied tiredly, "he does not realize that I am here.
He told me that he was going in on foot and that he would be careful but
then he broke the connection."
"Where the hell is Gull Rock?"
"I do not know." Caine turned pain-filled eyes to face the ex-mercenary.
"I do not know and I do not believe that Peter will contact me again. He
is too engrossed in the hunt."
"OK, we have to get to him quickly. I'll find a map..."
A quiet voice came from the doorway, "That will not be necessary, I
know where Gull Rock is to be found."
Caine bowed low and Kermit grinned at the short, bald man in the
doorway. "Master Kahn, it is good of you to come."
"Young Peter is in trouble, again. We should leave now. It will take
some time to reach him."
"Not," Kermit commented, "the way I drive."
----------------------------------------------------------------------
part - 26 ↑
"A van! You really expect us to catch up with Peter in a van?"
"It is the only vehicle that the center owns. I must have it back
in time to pick up the children from school tomorrow."
Kermit glared at the brightly colored Dodge, "I should've known.
Gimme the keys, I'm driving. We might just get there in time to save
Peter from bodily harm."
************
"Sid!"
"Uh, yeah Carl?"
"Where are the car keys?"
"Gottem in my pocket."
"Let me have them."
"Huh?"
"God, are you deaf as well as stupid? Hand the keys over."
Sid gulped and passed the keys to Carl, "Sure Carl, no problem,
but..."
"But what?"
"I thought you wanted me to drive."
"Nope. Becca drives better." As Carl bent down to kiss the
woman, he failed to notice Sid's angry, panicked expression.
************
Peter stumbled over a barely visible tree root and went to one knee.
Realizing his headlong plunge into the woods was buying him nothing,
he huffed in an irritated breath, then opted to use the unexpected
delay to get his bearings. He slipped into a lotus position and felt
his tension fade away as a meditative peace slowly enveloped his body.
As he relaxed, to his amazement he became increasingly aware of
the sounds of the night. A sudden flap of strong wings was followed
by tiny feet scurrying into the safety of a den. Further off came
the light pad of feet rushing in pursuit of ... Peter worked to bring
the sounds into focus ... "Ah, a deer." The images of hunted and
hunter surrounded him, bringing new meaning to the task before him.
Frowning, he pushed back the anger that threatened to break his
concentration. Turning his head slightly, Peter concentrated on his
prey.
The sounds of the surf became louder in his mind and he soon became
aware that his quarry was laying in wait near the cliffs. The mental
image he received was hazy. He felt the hostility of the people he
pursued and was surprised to note that it was not completely directed
toward him. He was equally surprised to sense a large amount of fear.
The mental image cleared somewhat and he could almost see two, no three
figures near a tree shrouded cliff. "OK, where's number four?" Taking
a mental snapshot of the terrain he could see, Peter pulled back and
worked to return from his meditative state. He rose from the ground
and stretched, surprised at how refreshed he felt.
A tiny chirp caught his attention. Opening his eyes, a smile touched
his lips as he discovered a grasshopper at his feet.
************
"I cannot believe this." Kermit grumbled as the van back-fired
again, "We are never going to get there at this rate."
"Kermit, you must relax. Peter is as yet unharmed."
"Yeah, but for how long? You know his luck."
"Luck has little to do with it, Kermit." Caine replied ruefully,
"I believe it is more his lack of ... backup."
"Peter has always tended to be careless of his own welfare. It
was so even at the temple, wasn't it, my friend?"
"Indeed. It was considered cause for celebration when he went
six months without injury."
"What the hell???" As the engine sputtered violently to a halt,
Kermit wrestled the van off the road into a quickie food mart. The
ex-mercenary slammed both hands on the wheel. As the horn stuck, he
moaned, "Great, just great!"
************
"Grandmomma, there's an aquarium on the third floor! Me and Mrs.
Heller counted thirty fishes."
"Really? That's wonderful, sweetheart. Did you thank Mrs. Heller
for going to the canteen with you?"
"Yes, Ma'am." Katy paused, "Oh, we got you a Pepsi."
"Thank you darl..."
"Mrs. Jones?"
Helen's face paled as she turned to face the doctor, arms wrapped
tightly around her granddaughter, "Y..Yes?"
"Detective Jones came through the surgery just fine, ma'am. Barring
unforeseen circumstances, he should make a complete recovery."
************
"Kahn, doesn't anyone believe in tune-ups? OUCH!" Kermit grimaced
as he popped his thumb in his mouth. He backed out from under the
hood to look at his companion.
"The vehicle has always performed adequately."
"Yeah," Kermit tossed a rag angrily to the ground and slammed the
hood, "well it isn't going anywhere right now."
"You are concerned about young Peter."
"Oh, yeah. He's in way over his head. I can feel it." The
ex-mercenary glared at the van, "There has to be a way to get there."
"There is." Caine's quiet voice broke through the younger man's
anger.
"How? You got a Shaolin trick to fix the engine?"
"I do not. However, the owner of this establishment has kindly
offered to lend us his vehicle. I have the keys."
Kermit's jaw dropped in astonishment as the keys were deposited
into his palm. The ex-mercenary's expression changed to a grin as
Caine nodded toward the loaner car. A red Corvair stood beside the
building. "Now that," Kermit stated firmly, "is a car."
************
A loud thud echoed in the stillness as Carl slammed a fist angrily
into the hood of the car, "Where the hell is he?"
"Maybe he got lost?" Sid added hopefully from his position in the
trees nearest the cliff. The nervous man felt safe there. There was
plenty of cover if Carl suddenly decided he'd outlived his usefulness.
Twin glares from Carl and Becca silenced any further comment from
that quarter.
Carl hit the light switch on his watch and checked the time, "We
give him ten more minutes, then we..."
"Police, FREEZE!" Peter's voice called out from the shadows,
"The game is over. I'd strongly suggest you assume the position."
Carl and Becca stared in stunned horror in the direction of
Peter's voice, unable to gauge his position. Sid, however, found
himself for once in exactly the right spot at exactly the right
time. Drawing his own weapon, he fired without warning, and grinned
in satisfaction as a body hit the ground.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
part - 27 ↑
Master Kahn gasped and grabbed the dash for support as the Corvair
took a sharp curve. Kwai Chang Caine sat quietly, brow furrowed in
concentration as he attempted to breach the wall of silence erected
by his son.
"See." Kermit grinned in satisfaction, "I told ya this was a
real car. That ...van... would never have made the turn.
The Shaolin gulped then replied, "It was ...tight."
"Look at it this way, Kahn, we're going north. The cliffs are
on the other side of the road."
Kahn's reply was cut short by Caine, "Kermit, we must hurry."
The ex-mercenary attempted to view the older man in the rearview
mirror, "What's wrong?"
"I do not know, but I sense we must reach Peter quickly."
"Right. Kahn hold tight, we're gonna see what this little car
can do."
Kahn winced and screwed his eyes tightly shut as the voice from
the back seat continued, "Peter is in great danger."
As Kermit give the little car more gas, he muttered, "And this
would be different, exactly how?"
************
Helen Jones cautiously pushed open the door to Mandy's room,
hoping not to wake the younger woman if she was sleeping at last.
Her hopes were dashed as a limber little body shoved past her,
screaming, "MOMMA!" at the top of her lungs, "Daddy's OK, Daddy's
OK!!!!"
A startled gasp was replaced by a small groan as the child flung
herself bodily on top of her mother. Helen's horrified cry of
"KATHERINE!" was accompanied by the older woman's dash toward the
bed. Seizing Katy around the waist, Helen quickly pulled the little
girl to her feet and administered a single hard smack to the child's
backside. Blue eyes widened with astonishment and no small amount
of distress as the irate grandmother steered the little girl toward
a chair. As Helen pushed the child into a sitting position, her
stern command, "STAY PUT!" was followed by a concerned, "Mandy, honey,
are you all right? Should I get the doctor?"
The young mother smiled, "I'm OK. I don't think she hurt anything.
S..Steve?"
Helen breathed a sigh of relief, "He's going to be fine, darling,
just fine."
"Oh, thank God!"
"What about you and the baby?"
"I've been drinking Master Caine's tea and I think it's helping.
The doctor's ordered more tests in the morning, but I'm sure the
results will be good."
"Grandmomma?" A tremulous little voice broke into the conversation.
"Yes Katherine?" Helen's voice still held a note of irritation.
"Can I get up now?"
"May I, not can I."
"May I get up now?" The child slid toward the edge of the chair.
Helen winked at Amanda, then turned a stern face toward Katy.
"If you ever pull a stunt like that again, young lady, I will spank
you, understand?"
The stunned little girl gulped, "Yes, ma'am."
"Fine, now come hug your mother, GENTLY."
A smile like sunshine lit the room as the child raced to embrace
her mom.
************
"Way to go Sid!" Becca voiced her approval as a dull thud echoed
around them.
Carl strode quickly toward the sound, "It's about time he did
something ri... What the HELL?"
"Carl?"
The flashlight's powerful beam flickered in the darkness, "There's
nothing here! The dumb little shit missed."
"I c..couldn't have m..missed. Y..you heard h..him fall."
"IDIOT! We heard him duck." Carl now had Sid by the throat.
"Wait! Carl shine that light over here." Becca was struggling
to see in the darkness. "NOW, CARL!"
The stunned man did as the woman commanded and looked where she
was pointing. A wide grin spread over his face as he knelt and
picked up the police issue revolver, "My apologies, Sid, there's
blood here. Keep your ears open, children, our cop is unarmed, and
injured. Let's see if we can upgrade that to dead."
************
Martin Heller was furious as he left the shabby hotel in the
heart of the city. Five patrol cars had been wasted on the false
report. Slamming a palm against the roof of his car, Heller contacted
the precinct to report their lack of success. He then dialed the
hospital and was surprised to reach his wife, "Sara? I thought I'd
get Helen. Why are you still there? Where is everyone?"
["I was just about to leave for home, Martin. Detective Jones is
going to be fine. Helen's gone to tell his wife."
"Thank God. I was afraid I'd lose that boy. Do me a favor, hon,
let Griffin and Caine know that the thieves weren't here. We're
back to square one."
["They're not here, Martin. They left with someone from Helen's
shelter not long after you did."]
Martin Heller counted slowly to ten, "I see. Any idea where they
went?"
["You're angry - why?]
"Nonsense, I'm not angry. I just need to keep tabs on our guests."
["Martin."]
He sighed, "You know me too well. I'm afraid they may have gotten
a lead and are following it. Going without backup seems to be the
rule rather than the exception where they come from."
["Well, I did hear that nice Detective Griffin talking about Gull
Rock."]
************
Peter leaned against a large tree and struggled to suppress a moan
as he slipped out of his shirt. Blood streamed down his arm as he
ripped the material into smaller pieces. Using the largest piece as
a compress, he pressed it to his shoulder in a desperate attempt to
stop the flow of blood. Hugging his left arm against his chest, he
cursed his luck as he fashioned a makeshift sling. Shaolin senses
had warned of the impending ambush and Peter had thrown himself
sideways and down to escape a fatal blast but he'd had no way of
knowing that Sid was a terrible shot. The bullet had imbedded itself
into his shoulder and Peter prayed that it was not broken again. Waves
of dizziness caused him to close his eyes tightly as he listened
to his adversaries' conversation. Outnumbered, outgunned and injured
he knew he only had one chance, "Come on, people, please split up to
hunt for me."
----------------------------------------------------------------------
part - 28 ↑
"Captain, are you sure?"
"Yes, dammit, I'm certain."
"But Captain, it's a long shot."
"Not a betting man, McLellan?"
"Oh, no, sir, I ,uh, frequently visit the tracks, but not with
odds this bad, besides..."
"Besides?"
"Gull Rock is a little out of our jurisdiction, isn't it sir?"
Martin Heller's expression never wavered as he fought to make
himself heard over the roar of the helicopter blades, "Oh, I don't
know, from the air, it all looks alike."
***********
Caine gasped in pain as Kermit flung the little car around yet
another tight curve.
"Sorry, Caine, this road's a little tricky."
"Peter has been injured." The father's voice held more than a
trace of fear.
Kermit swallowed his own fear and concentrated on the road ahead,
"Can you tell how bad?"
"No. His pain at the moment of injury was great. Peter was unable
to block his reaction. He has since taken control of himself. I
will not sense him again, until he is ready." "Or," he added silently,
"he dies."
"Kahn, about how far do we have to go?"
The other Shaolin struggled to look at the map he held in one hand,
the other was tightly clamped on the armrest of the little car, "It
is not far now."
"Good. Didn't Peter say he was leaving the car?"
No reply. Kermit risked a glance in the mirror and frowned as he
saw a single tear trail down Caine's cheek. "Caine! Didn't Peter
say he was leaving the car?"
"Yes, but he was very close. He chose to go in on foot to gain
an element of surprise."
"He would. OK gentlemen, keep your eyes out for... What kind of
car?"
"I do not know."
"Great. OK, look for a car on the side of the road. Hopefully
it will be the one he left."
Kahn looked puzzled, "Why? Surely you do not intend for us to
follow Peter's route. We would arrive too late."
"Granted but we can go in slow, quiet, and with the lights off."
**************
The hunted had now become the hunters. As Peter maneuvered his
way through the underbrush, he wondered how things could have gone
so terribly wrong. He knew the answer even as he posed the question
and the fault rested solely with himself. He knew proper police
procedure as well, if not better, than anyone at the 101st. Peter
could not even begin to remember the number of times Paul Blaisdell
had lectured him on the subject, how often he'd been confined to
desk duty in his early years as a cop. Why did he have a problem
admitting he needed help, that he could not do it alone? He knew
that answer also, or thought he did.
A stray branch slapped his injured shoulder and Peter chewed his
lip to avoid crying out in pain. The reaction came in the nick of
time. His pursuers had not split up, they were searching as a team.
To his surprise, Peter found relief, not fear, in the revelation.
He ducked low and listened with satisfaction as the pair's footsteps
passed by his location. As the sounds faded, the young detective
doubled back toward the cliff with two goals in mind - disable the
vehicle and subdue the woman.
**************
A low moan was all that indicated that the young detective was
coming to. Helen leaned forward and gently stroked her son's hair,
thinking as she did so that he looked much too young to be the
father of an eight year old. To her biased eyes, Steve looked no
older than he'd been the day they'd lost his father to a gunman's
bullet. Blue eyes fluttered open and blinked wildly as the injured
man struggled to bring the face above him into focus. "M...Mom?"
"Welcome back, darling."
Steve opened his mouth again but no words would come.
His mother understood his need, "Mandy's fine, but she's been put
on bed rest, stress and all. She's not allowed up until the doctor
says it's OK. Katy's making sure Mommy stays put."
A slow smiled eased its way across Steve's face at the thought.
"K..Katy's l..loving that."
"Yes, she is. Go back to sleep, baby. Mandy and Katy will be
in to see you later." As she spoke she massaged her son's temples,
attempting to ease him back to sleep. The eyes fluttered slightly,
the shot open again, "P..Peter?"
Helen replied softly, "Peter's fine, darling." As her son's eyes
closed tiredly, Helen prayed that she had not lied.
**************
Becca paced nervously beside the stolen van. She could not believe
that the two men had left her armed only with a shotgun while they
went in pursuit of the cop. Carl had been gone much too long and
the shotgun was getting heavier by the minute. Furious, she yanked
open the side door of the van and shoved the bulky weapon inside.
Slamming the door, she grinned in satisfaction as the glass rattled
in the window. Glancing toward the woods, however, she shivered
slightly as she found she couldn't shake the feeling that someone
was watching her and wondered briefly if she should have abandoned
her weapon.
"Don't be an idiot, Becca. The cop's hurt and running. It won't
be too long before the guys take him out."
She gasped as her ribs were prodded from behind, "Don't be too
sure. As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, assume the
position."
"Y..You lost your gun."
"Right."
"I found it."
"Uh huh. I don't have all night."
"I could scream."
"Go ahead. They won't be in time."
Knowing what she would do if she had the advantage, the young woman
began to tremble violently, fearing for her life. She allowed one
wrist to be handcuffed without a fight. As the 'gun' was removed
from her ribs, Becca instantly recognized her mistake and started to
run. Gasping in pain, Peter raced after her, tackling her before she'd
gotten too far. This time, however, she was not willing to surrender
so easily. Screaming and cursing she began to punch and kick at the
young cop. Hampered by his injury, Peter dodged the blows as best he
could and fought to pull her to her feet. Trying to maintain a hold
on the woman was costing Peter precious time and energy. Finally
successful in getting her upright, Peter held her aloft with his good
arm, about twelve inches off the ground. The advantage did not last.
Gathering her strength Becca kicked the young Shaolin brutally in the
shin, even as she clawed for his face with her fingernails. Crying out
in pain, Peter lost his flimsy hold on the woman and she bounced away
from him, laughing at his distress as he dropped heavily to one knee.
"Carl's on his way back by now, asshole! I'm going to enjoy
watching you die!" She edged around him, heading for the van, "I may
even shoot you myself!"
----------------------------------------------------------------------
part - 29 ↑
Peter bowed his head in undisguised dismay as he took stock of
his limited options. He laughed at his optimism. "Limited, hell!
Try non-existent." The angry woman in front of him was more than a
little unstable. It served him right. Going in with no back-up,
what had he been thinking. With his Shaolin training going so well,
he thought he'd banished the hot-shot cop into his past. But once
again, he'd allowed his emotions to run amok. He was going to die
here, unless...
"We know who you are." Peter spoke softly.
"Liar."
"It's true. Mark told us everything. Carl's obsession with
you, for example."
Becca glared at the man kneeling in the dirt. "That little
shit. I'm glad Carl killed him."
For once, Peter was able to hide his astonishment, "Too bad,
Mark was willing to testify that you never killed anyone. Now,
well..."
"It's true. I drive the get-away cars. I'm a damned good
driver."
Peter shrugged, and rose slowly to his feet. "Doesn't really
matter, you'll get the death penalty along with your friends."
"Shut up!" The shotgun she'd retrieved from the van snapped into
position, pointing at his chest.
"California has the gas chamber, I believe." Peter edged closer
to her as he spoke.
"They won't get to use it. Carl's too smart for that."
"You forget. He's, you've killed a lot of innocent people."
"I haven't killed anyone. The guys did the killing. Don't move!"
The shotgun wavered slightly, then steadied itself in her grasp.
Peter halted his slow forward motion, watching her eyes, and
hands.
A shout of "Becca!" distracted her briefly, allowing Peter to
rush her. Shoving the business end of the shotgun skyward, he
followed through with a punch to her jaw. Automatically catching
her as she collapsed, Peter whirled in response to the footsteps
crashing through the underbrush.
Carl's eyes narrowed with rage as he saw Becca hanging loosely
over Peter's good arm. "YOU KILLED HER!"
Peter quickly scanned the area behind the man, searching for the
other one. The dead weight of the woman he held was limiting his
ability to act. "Just great," he thought bitterly, "Where the hell's
the other one?" He made an attempt to engage Carl in conversation.
"She's not dead."
"Fine. KILL HIM!"
The young detective caught a movement out of the corner of his
eyes and dove for cover behind the van, dropping the now semi-conscious
woman as he went.
***********
"How much farther?" Heller yelled at the pilot.
"About ten minutes."
Leaning back in his seat, Martin Heller silently prayed. "Dear
God, please let us get there in time. Amen." Turning to stare out
of the window, he muttered to himself. "Of course, if he's alive,
I'm gonna kill him."
"Sir?"
"Nothing, McLellan, nothing at all."
***********
Shotgun shells pelted the side of the van as Peter vanished from
view.
"Idiot! Don't hit the gas tank." Carl cocked his own weapon
and raced around the front of the van. Peter was nowhere in sight.
Becca groaned and dazedly reached for her shotgun. Sid ignored
the woman and rushed toward the back of the van. "What the hell?
Carl, he's not here."
"I can see that, stupid. Find him!"
Sid looked nervously around, hunting for any sign of the cop.
A stick cracked in the gloom. Whirling he fired, delighted to hear
a cry of pain, then a thud. Determined not to lose the body this
time, he rushed forward, "Got him Carl!" Closing on the still form,
the man groaned in terror as he recognized the mistake he'd made.
Becca's slender body lay still, her life's blood draining into the
sand beneath her. "Oh, shit."
"Is right." Carl spoke softly as he placed the twenty-two near
his partner's head and cocked the pistol. He stared morosely for
a moment at his lover's body. "She was a damn good lay."
"I..it was an a..accident, C..Carl. I w..wouldn't k..kill h..her
on p..purpose."
"No, you're not smart enough for that." Turning he screamed into
the darkness. "It's your turn, cop!"
Peter watched with horror as Becca died and Carl aimed his gun
at Sid. "I've got to stop this." Unarmed, he looked for something
to throw, anything to divert the lunatic's concentration. Carl's words
drew his attention and he realized that once again the two men were
looking for him.
"Damn!" He thought, ducking as Carl's flashlight beam turned
in his direction. He suppressed a moan as he landed on a rock. The
light passed on by, and Peter took the opportunity to toss the rock
toward the front of the van. Grinning he watched as Carl turned quickly
and motioned Sid to circle the van. "Time we played with my rules for
a change."
***********
Kermit slowed as his headlights caught an abandoned car on the
side of the road. "Kahn, how far?"
The quiet Shaolin studied the map carefully. "Very close."
"Caine?"
"Peter is in pain. More than that I cannot tell."
Kermit chewed his lower lip and made a decision. "Okay, then
from here on, we go without lights."
**********
Loud cursing could be heard as Carl tramped through the underbrush
in search of Peter. Meanwhile Sid stood motionless beside the van,
apparently oblivious to the search. Peter slipped away from the road,
thinking, "Gotta get Carl first. He's far more dangerous."
As the cop began to circle back toward Carl's location, he didn't
see Sid kneel quickly by Becca's dead body. The frightened thug qingerly
searched her body, cringing as he touched the blood. "Please, please
let them be here... Yes!" Withdrawing the keys to the van, he smiled.
"Now, to get the hell out of here. Carl's on his own."
It didn't take Shaolin senses for Peter to keep track of Carl.
"He's making so much noise, a rookie could track him." Frowning, he
realized his quarry was now moving away from him. "Great. Well, I'm not
gonna play this game all night." He once again moved in pursuit of
the man.
Carl had seen what Peter had not. Sid's kneeling beside Becca's
body had been out of character for the thug. A faint rattle quickly
gave away Sid's plan. Carl fired as his partner sought to open the
van door. His latest victim's grunt was drowned out by his own cry
as Peter hurled himself at the murderer.
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part - 30 ↑
Sid grunted in surprise as the bullet impacted with his chest.
As a red stain widened across his shirt, his eyes glazed over and
he collapsed to the ground without another sound.
Peter's attack took Carl completely by surprise. So much so that
the man never saw Sid collapse as he struggled for possession of the
gun with the injured detective. "You SHIT!"
Carl fought to free himself while Peter used his good arm as a
club, battering Carl's gun hand with repeated blows. The twenty-two
slipped from his grasp, falling uselessly to the earth. "Noooooo!"
Carl screamed and used both hands to lever himself away from Peter.
A direct hit to the detective's injured shoulder succeeded in wresting
a cry of pain from the cop. Peter fell backwards, dazed and bleeding
much more heavily than before.
Gasping, the other man cursed at the cop. "You.. dumb.. shit.
You're.. gonna.. die.. here!" Ignoring the gun at his feet, he
lunged for Peter's throat.
"I.. don't.. think.. so." Peter cringed as he spoke, his shoulder
protesting the abuse it was receiving. Diving aside, he barely escaped
Carl's outstretched hands reaching for his neck. A Kung Fu kick
successfully propelled Carl away from him.
The two men focused on the abandoned twenty-two simultaneously
and dove for the gun. The criminal reached it seconds before the
cop. "Oh.. no.. you.. don't!" Peter panted as he applied a hard blow
to Carl's hand before he could get a grip on the gun. Once again
the weapon was knocked away from the combatants.
Blood loss combined with exhaustion to severely hamper Peter's
fighting skills. Carl managed to twist around, breaking the other
man's hold on his body. The rapid motion succeed in throwing the
young cop onto his back. Carl took advantage of the situation and
flung himself on top of Peter, hands wrapping tightly around the
his throat.
***************
"What do you mean I can't see Steve?" Mandy strained to keep
her voice low, trying not to wake her sleeping daughter.
"Mrs. Jones, I know you're upset, but I've read the reports on
your husband and trust me, he needs his rest. Also, there's the
little fact that I do not want you up, even in a wheelchair until
tomorrow morning."
"You said the tests show I'm better, that the herbs Mr. Caine's
giving me are helping."
"The tests do show a marked improvement, but regardless of how
well that tea seems to be working, you are still confined to bed
rest until tomorrow. Clear?"
Mandy folded her arms angrily across her chest. "Fine, but it
better be early tomorrow."
Her doctor choked back a laugh. "Oh, there is one more thing."
"What?"
"Do you suppose Mr. Caine would agree to give us the formula,
uh, recipe for that tea?"
Mandy smiled thoughtfully. "I believe he would be honored."
***************
Waves of dizziness threatened to overwhelm him, as Carl tightened
his grip. Gathering his resources, the Shaolin cop put all his energy
into loosening Carl's grip. Throwing the thug backwards, Peter was
startled to hear Carl's scream turn from one of rage to one of pain.
"What the...?" Peter's eyes widened as the man fell over dead
at his feet. Looking past the body, Peter saw the twenty-two fall,
as Sid's hand went limp for the last time.
***************
"It is over." Caine's voice contained relief, tinged with concern.
"What? What's happened?" Kermit glanced into the rearview
mirror trying to see the older man.
"I am not certain."
"You're not certain of what?"
"Of the outcome."
Kermit counted silently to ten. "Peter?"
"Alive, but injured. You may drive faster if you choose."
"I can't drive faster without the ligh... Oh, it's safe to turn them
on."
"It is."
Kermit hit the gas pedal and pulled the light switch at the same time.
"Master Kahn. Was Master Caine this cryptic at the temple?"
Kahn smiled slightly, "Yes."
Kermit muttered under his breath as he cast a sidelong glance at the
other man. "It's got to be a Shaolin thing."
***************
Peter Caine dragged his weary body toward the van. His attempts
to use the door handle to pull himself upright had failed. Sighing in
defeat, he reduced his efforts to gaining a sitting position.
Leaning back against the van, he relaxed and allowed himself to
take in the carnage. The bodies of the three thieves lay cooling in
the night air. A night bird sang in the distance and Peter blinked
tiredly as he listened to the waves hit the shore. The sound of an
approaching car attracted his attention. He turned his head to face
the road, his body once again rejecting his attempts to rise.
The car slid to a halt, its occupants taking in the slaughter in
their own way. Master Kahn looked grave and said a silent prayer
for the dead. The ex-mercenary had eyes only for his injured friend;
the deaths of vermin counted for little in his world. The father
moved without hesitation toward his son. "Peter?"
"P..Pop?" The younger man's eyes showed his confusion, and his
pain. "H..how? W..when?"
Kneeling beside Peter, Kwai Chang Caine placed a gentle hand on
his face then pulled herbs from his pouch. "You must stay still my
son. This will be painful." As he spoke, he applied the herbs to
Peter's shoulder. Peter bit back a cry as tears rushed to his eyes.
Kermit stood above the pair, shaking his head in disbelief. "This
could only happen to you, Peter. Ever hear of backup in pursuing
those of the criminal persuasion?"
"T..they had to be s..stopped."
Kwai Chang Caine nodded Peter's shoulder, then at the dead, "But
at what price, my son?"
Anger overcame exhaustion as Peter responded. "Geez, Pop! You're
not feeling sorry for them are..." He caught the look in the elder
Caine's eyes. "I know, there is always another way, but..."
The sounds of a chopper drew everyone's attention. A spotlight
illuminated the surrounding area and the pilot skillfully landed on
the road. Martin Heller was first out, taking in the scene as he
strode toward his borrowed cop. Peter glanced at the angry face of
the captain, then at the severe expressions on the others surrounding
him. "OOPS."
He swallowed hard as his father silently tightened the poultice
on his shoulder. In true Peter Caine style, the young cop muttered a
contrite, "Sorry", before collapsing senseless into his father's
waiting arms.
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part - 31 ↑
"Welcome back, sleepyhead."
Peter's eyes slowly opened. "H..Helen?"
"Yes. It's about time you woke up."
"How long?"
"Three days."
"Three?" Peter glanced around, confused. "Pop?"
"He'll be back soon. We finally got him to leave for awhile."
"How?"
"He was abducted by blue eyes."
"Huh?"
Caine's voice came from the doorway. "Katy wished me to eat
breakfast with her at McDonald's. She sent you a teenie beanie baby."
He placed a tiny frog on the table beside Peter's bed.
Helen leaned over and gently kissed Peter's forehead. "I'll leave
you two alone, but Peter, we'll talk later."
Caine brushed long bangs from Peter's eyes, pleased to find no more
signs of fever.
"I can't believe I was out for three days."
"You pushed yourself too hard, my son. Exhaustion took its toll on your resources. You were fortunate not to be gravely injured, but
your actions were unwise."
"S..seemed like a good idea at the t..time."
"But without rest or backup?"
Peter's retort was stopped by the expression in Caine's eyes.
For once the younger man could plainly see the fear written there.
"I'm sorry, Father. I..I didn't mean to worry you so."
"He's not the only one you owe an apology to." Kermit waltzed
into the room to stand by Caine. Laughing at Peter's puzzled
expression, the ex-mercenary continued. "Let's see. Steve...'
"STEVE! How's Steve? and Mandy? The baby, is the baby okay?
and Katy, those jerks..."
Caine placed a hand over his son's mouth. "Steve is recovering
and will be fine. Mandy and the baby are fine. Katy is also fine."
Peter sighed with relief and visibly relaxed.
Kermit shook his head. "Now where was I. Oh yeah. Steve wants to
thank you for his life and kick your butt for trying to get yourself
killed. I am quoting you understand. Mandy's decided it wasn't
entirely your fault, you were just being Peter, BUT, and again I
quote, 'how dare you scare everyone like that'. Helen muttered something
about having that 'lying discussion again.' Captain Heller has been
working on his comments for three days, and Captain Simms wants you
in her office the minute you get home."
"Oh."
Caine and Kermit exchanged glances then Kermit spoke. "That's it?"
Peter nodded in worried silence.
"I did leave out one little thing."
"What?" came the dejected reply.
"The mayor and city council of San Francisco are gonna pin a
medal on you for stopping those murders."
"That's nice."
"My son, what is the matter?"
"Yeah kid, you've survived reprimands before. Both Blaisdell and
Simms have chewed your butt so often, I'm surprised you're worried
about it."
"Huh? Oh, yeah, they're just doing their jobs. I'll live."
Kermit tried again, "Okay, I know you're not worried about getting the medal. You gotten them before and you damn sight deserve this one,
even if you did break a few rules."
"No, that's nice of them. They didn't have to."
"Okay kid, give. What's bothering you?"
Peter sighed heavily, "YOU'VE never been on the receiving end of
one of Helen's lying discussions."
The End