*Part One*

Peter Caine looked over at his passenger.  "We need to stop where?" he asked incredulously.

Kwai Chang Caine shrugged.  "A public library."

"Pop, why?"

"As I told you, I am searching for a...particular kind of herb.  I need to find a ... photograph of it."

"Okay, okay, I know about the herb," Peter said with a small frown,  "...but you're an apothecary.  Shouldn't you know what the herb you're looking for looks like?"

"Yes."  The older man agreed.  "I do know what it looks like...but *you* do not.  That is why we must stop."

Peter rolled his eyes.  This trip was not turning out to be anything like what he had anticipated.  Last weekend, when he had volunteered to help his father replenish the apothecary supplies, he had expected to drive him from shop to shop, with time to talk along the way.  He had *not* expected to be tramping through the woods all around the suburbs of the city, gathering roots, leaves, stems and berries.  Being with his father was interesting, and he was learning about his life, but enough was enough!

"Okay Pop, one public library coming up."  Peter tried to remember where the local library would be.  They were currently in Rosedale, one of the wealthiest communities surrounding Sloanville.  That wealth, which led directly to the abundance of public conservation land, was the reason his father had picked the town as a good place to find herbs.  Peter had been to the Rosedale PD for some training classes, and thought he could remember passing the library on the way there.

"Peter," his father said, interrupting his thoughts.  "If we are going to the library, should you not follow the signs?"  He pointed to a blue sign at the crossroads ahead.  'Library' it read.  The arrow pointed to the left.

"Right Pop.  I mean, Father."  Peter grinned.  At the stop sign, he turned the Stealth left, following a yellow rental truck up the hill and into the library parking lot.  The truck darted into a parking spot, but Peter stopped at the crosswalk as a young dark-haired woman ushered a group of small children off a schoolbus and across the parking lot.  Most of the kids ran ahead, but four were clustered around the woman, each talking to her non-stop.  She smiled as she listened; waved and nodded to Peter, to thank him for stopping.

"Boy, she has her hands full."  Peter said, watching the group push through the library doors.

His father smiled.  "A bit like Master Lowry at the Temple."

Peter laughed as he remembered how the boys used to follow Master Lowry, each talking as loudly as possible to gain his attention.  Somehow, the man always seemed to hear each one of them.  "Yeah," he agreed. "I don't know how they do it."

He got out of the car and stretched his arms over his head.  His father watched at him over the roof of the Stealth.  "Will you come in, my son?"

"Sure, why not?  While you look up plants, I'll read the local crime report or something.  Not that there's much crime around here," he added.  Peter followed his father into the building.  As they reached the doors, he opened the right one for his father.  A man in a long leather trenchcoat pushed rudely past Caine and entered the building.  "You're welcome!"  Peter called after him sarcastically.

The man looked back at him, expressionless.  His eyes were shadowed by the sunglasses he wore.  The hackles on Peter's back rose.  "Uh Pop...."

Caine put a restraining hand on his arm.  Two more young men in trenchcoats and sunglasses pushed past them, heading for the Children's Wing.  Father and son exchanged a glance.  Caine started after the men.

Peter ran to the Reference Desk.  The librarian looked up from her computer.  "May I help you?"  she asked pleasantly.

"Yes," Peter pulled out his badge and showed it to her.  "Call the police. I think you're about to have a big problem."  He followed after his father, cursing the fact that his gun was in the car.
*****
 

*Part Two*

Jessie settled into the rocking chair and looked at the eager faces surrounding her.  "Does everybody remember where we left off last week?"  she asked, holding up a copy of 'Help! I'm a Prisoner in the Library'.

"Mary Rose and Jo Beth just found the lady on the floor upstairs," Matthew volunteered.

"They were scared." Anthony added.

"The blue lights were one," Molly said, shivering.  "And the snow kept on snowing."

Jessie grinned.  This group always remembered everything, unlike the Wednesday group.  She bet they could probably recite the dialogue word for word.  "Okay, let's start chapter six."

She looked up with a trace of annoyance as the door opened.  "I'm sorry, we're in a program right now..." her voice trailed off as she saw the man standing silhouetted in the doorway.  Rising to her feet, she felt her heart begin to pound.  Something was not right.  "Can I help you?" she asked sharply.

The man in the doorway smiled.  It was not a pleasant sight.  He walked into the room, followed by two others.  "So sorry to interrupt sweetheart," he sneered, "But we have some important business here."

Jessie looked at the children, who were looking from the man to her.  "There must be a mistake," she said, her voice coming out in a breathless squeak.  Could they hear her over the beating of her heart?

"You've got that right."  One of the other men laughed.  "Only we're not the ones making it."  He pulled a gun out from under his coat.  Several of the children started to whimper. "You're all coming with us."
 

Kwai Chang Caine saw the men go into the small room at the end of the Children's Wing.  Suddenly, he heard children crying.  One man backed out of the room with a gun pointed into it.  As horrified mothers grabbed their toddlers and began running, the man walked the few steps to the emergency exit and opened it.  An alarm started buzzing.  The yellow truck that Peter and Caine had followed into the parking lot was right outside, backed up to the doorway.

The other two men were prodding the children towards the door.  Every child was clinging to or trying to touch the young librarian.  Some were silent, one or two were crying.  The woman looked terrified, but was trying to maintain contact with each child while walking in the direction of the door.  It wasn't easy.  Impatiently, one man yanked a child away.

Caine knew that he could not risk the lives of children by trying to fight, so he did what was, in his mind, the only possible thing.  Calmly, he walked up to the group and transferred some of the children into his own arms, including the little girl the gunman had grabbed.

"What the Hell do you think you're doing, old man?" that man demanded, poking Caine with his gun.

"These children are frightened.  I am merely trying to ease their discomfort," he answered calmly.  The child in his arms wrapped herself tightly around his neck and hid her face in his shoulder.

"Just move it," one of the others said, impatiently pushing the knot of children, librarian and Kwai Chang Caine through the door towards the back of the truck. "We'll take him too."

Peter raced into the Children's Wing just in time to catch one last glimpse of his father's calm face, surrounded by children, as the door to the truck slammed closed.  With tires screeching, it peeled out of the parking lot.
*****

*Part 3*

Peter ran out of the library to the Stealth.  He knew he had to follow the truck; if he lost it, the chances of finding the children, and his father, would be slim.  He started the car even before he closed the door, exiting the parking lot so quickly he almost ran down an unlucky pedestrian.  His hand touched the cherry under the seat, but he knew that a flashing light would attract the wrong kind of attention.

The truck was travelling the winding rural roads too quickly; almost loosing touch with the ground on one side as it took the curves.  Hating to think what was happening to the people in the back of the vehicle, Peter settled in for a long chase, trying to stay far enough back so that he could see the truck, but was out of sight of the driver.  Since the Stealth was so low to the ground, he was hoping that the truck driver wasn't aware of the pursuit.

As he followed the truck, he reached for his radio.  "Baker 1-9," he said into the mouthpiece.  Unfortunately, he was too far out of the city to reach the dispatcher.  Sure that the local police would be active on their channel, he started twisting the dial, driving one-handed, trying to find the correct frequency.  He knew he had reached the right spot when he started hearing excited voices over the air.

~...three men in long brown coats...~  Hearing a break in the conversation, Peter jumped in.

"This is Detective Peter Caine with Metro.  I am in pursuit of the truck which abducted the children."  The chatter on the line stopped.

A new voice came on.  "This is Captain McDonald, of the Rosedale PD.  Where are you located, Detective Caine?"

"I'm not sure, sir.  I don't know your streets.  I just passed a golf course on my left.  I'm on a winding road.  Uh, they're headed northwest," Peter added, looking at the angle of the sun.

"Keep them in sight, Detective. Can I have your badge number?"

Peter gave it, knowing that the Captain was going to check with the Simms.  "I tried to get the plate, but it's covered with mud.  The truck is a standard eighteen foot rental truck; a yellow 'E-Z Ride'.  If they get onto the highway towards the city, we'll have a tough time keeping tabs on them."

The truck reached an intersection and passed through without pausing.  Reluctantly, Peter slowed.  The Stealth would have no problem catching up, and an accident would endanger too many people.  Luckily, no one was at the intersection, and he was able to keep the yellow truck in sight.

The road they turned onto was significantly wider, and Peter's heart sank when he saw a sign indicating a junction ahead with one of the major highways into the city.  "Shit!"  He pounded the steering wheel in frustration as the truck turned onto the entrance ramp.

As he merged into traffic, Peter picked up the radio.  "Captain McDonald, our suspects have just turned onto the interstate.  I am still following. *Where is my backup?*"  the last words were shouted into the mike with frustration.
There was a crackle of static, and then the breathless voice of a dispatcher came over the air.  "Detective Caine, officers are in pursuit, but there was an accident involving two of the cruisers.  The others are stuck in the resulting traffic jam.  We are notifying Metro of the situation."

Peter shook his head in disbelief.  "Great.  No backup."  He looked at the truck he was chasing.  Already, he could see two more of the familiar yellow rental trucks on the road amongst the other traffic.  Reaching under the seat, he pulled out his cellular phone.  "I should have done this in the first place."  Without even looking at the keypad, he dialed a familiar number.
********

*Part 4*

The back of the truck was uncomfortably hard, with nothing to keep the children from sliding around in the empty space.  Kwai Chang Caine tried to hold as many of them as he could while the rental truck screeched around yet another curve in the road.  He noted that the young woman was trying to do the same; both adults braced in, trying to stay there and keep the children from tumbling.  He reached out and grabbed as a blond boy slid past him.  They were fortunate that the dim overhead bulb allowed enough light to see each other.

Just as he feared that someone might receive an injury, the truck took one last sharp corner, and began travelling in a straight line.  Caine frowned.

"Oh, good," the woman sighed in relief, pushing the hair out of her eyes and looking at Caine.  She paused.  "Or maybe, not so good?" she asked tentatively, something on his face telling her that this was not necessarily a positive change.

Concentrating, he reached out.  He sensed his son close by, worry filling his thoughts.  The motion of the truck had changed to a smooth rhythm, travelling in a straight line.  He raised his eyes to meet the librarian's.  "We are on a highway.  It may be...difficult to follow this truck in such a situation."

"Oh."  Her expression changed as she assimilated this information, wavering between fear and hope. "Wait, you mean that there *is* someone following us?"  She saw his nod, but didn't have time to ask more as a general wail went up from the group of children.  Caine watched her as she began to comfort them with her attention.

"Jessie, my head hurts!" a dark-haired boy said.

"I hurt my arm, Jessie," a little blond girl cried.  Other complaints followed.  From the frequent repetition, Caine deduced that the woman's name was Jessie.

Caine comforted the curly-haired girl still wrapped around his neck, and reached out to the other children.  His calming presence seemed to settle over the group as the children found spaces to sit around the two adults.  Instinctively, they remained in contact with each other, constantly seeking comfort through touch.

"Have we been kidnapped?" one of the girls, a sturdy blond child asked, her voice hushed.  The other children waited for the answer.

Jessie hesitated, looking at Caine.  He shrugged.  "It looks like it, Christina," she reluctantly admitted.  Christina bit her lip and grabbed the hand of the girl beside her.

"Who are you?" the boy who had hurt his head asked Caine.

"I am Caine."  Kwai Chang Caine inclined his head towards the boy.

This did not appear to satisfy the child.  "What are you doing here?" he demanded.

Looking into the boy's dark eyes, Caine could see the fear behind the question.  "I was visiting the library, and I saw men with guns.  I tried to help."

"You didn't help much," the boy said.

"Ayaas!"  Jessie exclaimed, teacher-mode taking over for a second. "That was rude.  Please apologize."

The boy looked momentarily abashed.  "Sorry," he muttered, ducking his head.

"That is...all right," Caine said, placing a gentle hand on the boy's shoulder.  "I was not able to do as much as I should have."  The young boy reminded him of Peter at the same age.  Full of questions and trying to make the events around him fit into his perception of the world.

"Mr. Caine, I'm Jessica Reed.  These kids are Ayaas, Molly, Sophie..."  As she rattled off the names, Caine looked at each child in turn.  There were eight of them, four boys and four girls.  They looked to be between the ages of seven and nine.  Each one seemed to be taking their situation in stride, although there were a few tear tracks drying on several faces.

"Just...Caine."

Jessie was surprised when Sophie, normally one of the quieter children, sat up and looked at the man.  When she bowed her head and whispered something in Chinese, Caine replied in kind.  Sophie turned to the others, her dark eyes shining.

"He is the Shaolin priest, from Chinatown.  Shaolin are good luck.  We will be safe, he will help us."
***********

*Part Five*

It seemed to take forever before the phone was answered.  "Griffin's computer dating service," Kermit's voice sang out.  "You ask..."

"Shut up and listen, Kermit," Peter said, not waiting to hear the rest of it.

"Peter?  What's the matter?"  Kermit's voice grew sharp as he recognized the tension in the younger detective's tone.

"I'm in pursuit of a E-Z Ride rental truck, headed directly for the city.  My father's in the back, along with a bunch of kids and a librarian from the Rosedale Library."  Peter tried to recite the facts unemotionally, but the memory of those small fearful faces filled his thoughts.  "I don't have a plate number; I can't read it.  I don't have backup, because the Rosedale PD apparently had an accident with their cruisers before they made it to the scene."

Kermit exhaled.  "When you get into something, you don't do it by halves, Petey.  What do you want me to do?"

Peter's relief at his friend's immediate support was immeasurable.  Maybe there was a chance that this could end quickly.  "The Rosedale dispatcher said they were contacting Metro.  See if you can get the 101st on it.  Find out who these kids are, and what the motive for taking them is.  I'll stay on the line, so you can trace my location.  If anything happens, I can tell you where the truck goes."  Peter paused, not sure if there was anything else.  "Thanks, Kermit," he added softly.

"Oh yeah," came the reply.  "Hang on, kid.  Let's see what we can do."

*************

Kermit Griffin stormed out of his office like a man possessed.  "Blake, trace the call on my line," he snapped.  "Jody, call Rosedale and find out what they know about a kidnapping at the library.  Skalany..."

"I wasn't aware you had been promoted to Chief, Detective," a gruff voice behind him barked, dripping with sarcasm.

"Strenlich."  Kermit turned to look at the Chief of Detectives.  There was no time to waste on niceties. "Peter's on my line.  He witnessed a kidnapping and is in pursuit of an E-Z Ride rental truck."

The burly man sighed.  "Backup?" he asked, almost hopefully.

"None.  There was some kind of accident," Kermit's voice reflected his desire to bang some heads together in Rosedale. "Peter's on his own."

Concern mixed with irritation in the Chief's comment.  "Why can't Caine have a normal day off?  Rest a little, go on a picnic, see a movie...?"  He looked around the motionless squadroom.

"Well, what are you all sitting there for?" he barked.  "Griffin told you what to do!  Blake, Powell, get moving.  Skalany, start calling E-Z rental outlets.  After Powell gets a description of the perps, see if you can match them to a rental.  Chin..." he paused, trying to think of something for the young detective to do.  "Find the Captain," he said finally.  "She'll want to know what's going on."

Kermit nodded.  "Peter's still on the line.  I'll see if he can give me more information."  He turned towards his office.  "Coming, Chief?"

Strenlich nodded, observing the new flurry of activity in his squadroom.  He shook his head and tried not to worry about Peter.  It wasn't going to happen.  Following Kermit, he entered the computer expert's office.

**************

"Kermit?"  Peter shouted into the phone.  He could hear background noise; Strenlich shouting, but there was no answer.  Peter gritted his teeth and dropped the cell phone as the truck left the highway.  Cutting across three lanes of traffic, Peter wrestled the Stealth off the same exit.  He could only hope that the men in the rental wouldn't notice such a blatant maneuver.

The truck sped down a long street and turned sharply.  A chain link gate swung open just enough to let the truck through, then closed.  Peter drove by slowly, circling the block.  He checked out the sign on the gate as he passed.  'Holt Trucking', the sign read.  The parking lot was filled with tractor-trailers and other, smaller trucks.  Peter groaned when he saw the corner of the yard filled with distinctive yellow rentals.
*****
 

*Part 6*

The truck slowed and turned right.  After only a few minutes of travel, it came to a halt; the unwilling passengers could hear the cab doors open and then slam shut.  Caine stood, as did Jessie.  One by one, following the example of the adults, the children rose to their feet, keeping Caine and Jessie between them and the door.  Fearfully, they clustered behind the two adults, their eyes fixed on the back of the truck.

The door rose with a clatter.  The truck was not outside, as Caine had expected.  Instead, they were in some kind of shipping warehouse.  The three men from the library stood waiting, guns in hand.  One gestured, "Come on, we don't have all day.  Get out."

Without hesitation, Caine walked to the end of the truck and jumped down.  He looked at each of the three men.  They were in their mid-twenties, with hard faces.  Seeing that they seemed to have no intention of helping or harming their prisoners, he turned and held out one hand to Jessie.  She took it and jumped out of the truck..  Between them, they assisted the children to get down.

When the last child was firmly on the ground, Caine fixed a steady gaze on the kidnappers.  "Are you cowards, that you cannot face a group of harmless children without weapons?"  There was no hint of censure in his voice, merely curiosity.

One of the men promptly tucked his gun under his coat, looking slightly ashamed.  The other two stared.  "Shut up, old man," one snapped.

"Jace, leave him alone," the man who had put his gun away said.  "He's right.  They're just kids, and we're scaring them."

Jace snorted.  "We're kidnappers. That's what we're supposed to do."  He prodded Caine with the gun.  "Okay, old man.  Follow Mike.  You kids, follow the old guy.  Librarian, you walk in the back in front of me and Zeke."

Silently, the children bunched up in a little group behind Caine.  "Single file!" Jace shouted.

"Can't we do partners?"  Ayaas objected.  "That's what we always do at school."

"Partners.  Fine." Mike hastily said, as Jace's face grew red with anger.  Nodding, he turned and started walking across the warehouse.  Caine leveled one stern look at Ayaas before following him.  Quickly the children organized themselves into pairs and followed, leaving Jessie and the other two kidnappers to follow.

Mike led them though a swinging double door and down a long corridor.  He stopped at an unmarked door and gestured Caine to go through it.  On the other side was a small room, with another door on the far side.  A mirror was built into the third wall.  The fourth wall, opposite the mirror, was painted with graffiti.

"Line up on that wall," Jace demanded, pointing at the graffiti.  Silently, the prisoners did so, with Caine on one end of the line and Jessie on the other.  Jace pressed a button beside the mirror.  "They're here," he stated.

There was a crackle, then a small speaker over the button emitted a squawk of static.  "There were supposed to be eighteen children," a mechanical voice stated, "and I don't remember telling you to bring any adults."

Jace scowled at Mike, who cleared his throat nervously and spoke for all three.  "These were all the kids in the room.  We couldn't get them to move without the librarian.  The old guy helped get them in the truck."

"The old guy?"  Even through the speaker, the voice sounded amused.

Caine tilted his head, listening to the voice.  Although it was disguised by the mechanism that allowed it to travel through walls, there was something familiar about the cadence and phrasing of the words.  He closed his eyes and tried to match that to a face.

"Where are the rest of the children?"

Jace poked Jessie.  "Where are the other kids?"

The librarian jumped.  "There's some kind of bug going around.  Six mothers called to tell me their children were sick.  Two kids were going to a birthday party.  I don't know what happened to the other two-we left messages on their machines."

The person on the other end of the microphone cursed.  "Gentlemen, there is a large difference between nine million dollars and four million.  Your fee has just been lowered substantially.  Did you at least make sure that you were not followed?"

"We weren't followed," Jace said arrogantly.

"We sabotaged the cruisers," Zeke snickered.  "Those cops were too busy crashing to be able to follow us."

Dead silence came from the speaker.  Finally, there was a click and the voice came back on.  The suppressed fury in it made the gunmen look nervously at each other.  "Do you mean to tell me that you didn't even check to see if you were followed?"

The kidnappers shifted uncomfortably.

"DID YOU LOOK?"

"No," Mike said to the floor.  The other two glared at him.

Several people jumped as the sound of items crashing came from the other side of the wall.  Caine looked at the children.  Emotions played across young faces; fear, surprise...recognition.  Caine looked closely at Sophie; she looked up at Caine soberly.  Whomever was on the other side of that wall, Sophie knew him.

The voice filled the room again.  "The 'old guy' you caught is a Shaolin priest.  Was anyone with him at the Library?"

Zeke and Mike looked to Jace.  "Yeah, some young guy," their self-appointed leader grudging admitted.  "So what?"

The door at the far end of the room banged open, and a tall, dark-haired man stalked through, followed by three others.  "So what?" he repeated, anger filling his voice,  "His son is a cop.  I can assure you that he DID follow you, and is, at this moment, prowling around this building, looking for his father."  The man turned to face the men behind him.  "Search the grounds.  Look for an intruder.  Don't kill him-yet.  Bring him here."  Two of the men left, pulling weapons from hidden holsters.  The man in control watched them go, then moved his attention to the prisoners.

"Caine," he said, with a deadly smile.  "How good to see you again."

It wasn't Kwai Chang Caine who responded however, but Sophie, her voice filled with distress.  "Uncle, what are you doing?"
**************
 

*Part 7*

As Peter parked the Stealth around the corner from Holt Trucking, he decided to try the cell phone one more time.  "Kermit, are you there?" he asked, holding the phone to his ear with his shoulder as he checked his Baretta.  He sighed with relief as the welcome sound of his friend's voice came over the phone line.

"Where else would I be?" Kermit asked.  Peter could read tension in the flippant tone.  "I have Blake tracing this line.  Jody and Skalany are trying to find out more about the kidnapping.  But why don't you tell me--where are you?"

"Red Rose Trucking.  I got off the interstate at exit 67.  Take a right off the exit."

"Caine!"  Strenlich grabbed the phone from Kermit, ignoring the raised eyebrows.  "You stay where you are!  Wait for backup."

Peter took a deep breath.  "Sorry Chief, that's not gonna happen.  My father is in there.  I gotta go."  He ignored Strenlich's sputtering.  "I'll leave the phone on in the Stealth.  It's parked just around the corner from the warehouse.  Don't take too long getting here."  Peter pushed the phone under the driver's seat, ignoring the sounds coming from the receiver.

Striving for the innocent look of a pedestrian passing by, he casually walked down the street towards the trucking warehouse.  There was no sign of anyone nearby; maybe this wasn't a neighborhood where people walked.  Broken windows and padlocks on everything seemed to indicate that it was not very safe.  He reached the fence for the warehouse, and after a quick glance around, tried the  gate.  It was locked.  Peter sighed and grabbed the fence.

His breath hissed out as he landed with a quiet thud on the other side. Still no one appeared, which was suspicious in itself.  Pulling the Baretta, he stealthily made his way into the first docking bay.

There was a yellow rental truck parked inside.  The door was still open; Peter looked inside and saw nothing but empty space.  He rolled under the truck when he heard noise coming from the other end of the warehouse.

Two burly bodyguard-types came into the docking bay; one talking in what he probably thought was a quiet voice.

"Why did Chan hire those idiots to do the job anyway?  They don't seem very bright."

<This from a man who works for a criminal?  Wait a minute...Chan?> Peter thought.

The other bodyguard answered.  "They're smart enough to be on a plane out of here tonight.  I'll say this for him, Chan's a quick thinker.  They were never supposed to see who hired them.  He arranged their trip because he thinks they're too stupid to keep quiet."

Peter was still stuck on the name.  <It can't be the same Chan,> he told himself, shaking his head and straining to hear the rest of the conversation.

"So all he's doing is sending them away?  They saw him, plain as day."

"Not my problem," the first bodyguard said with a shrug.  "We just have to see if we can find the priest's son.  I wouldn't mind catching a cop. Chan's sure he's out here."

<It is the same Chan.  Damn it!>  Peter remembered Tan's second-in-command, the man who had shot him.  They'd had several run-ins in the past.  The last time Peter had seen him, he had let the other man get away, thankful that Chan had recovered enough of a conscience to save the life of a friend. Peter rolled to the front of the truck, watching the legs of the two men.

"I don't see anyone," one of them said.

Peter stayed still as the options ran through his head.  He could attack these two, and go back to surprise Chan, but he had no idea where Chan was, or how many other men were with him, guarding their prisoners.  He could do nothing and wait for backup.  Or he could follow these two and play it by ear.

Peter made himself as small as possible under the truck and watched the two men separate to search the warehouse.  He knew he had lost his chance to find  a better hiding place; one of the men would see him if he moved.

As they came back together in the center of the room, they seemed to notice the truck.  "Hey, did you look inside the rental?" one asked.

"Nope," the other answered, "Seemed like a stupid place to hide."

"So maybe a cop would think it was the best place," the first man said slowly.

Peter heard the the heavy footsteps as the two men approched the truck. His eyes darted around, searching frantically for a hiding place.  Nothing came to mind until he looked up.  With a short prayer, Peter pulled himself up and flattened against the underside of the truck.  It was dirty and hot, smelling of oil and asphalt.  Peter closed his eyes, as if that would make him harder to see.  He felt the vehicle shake as the doors were opened and closed.  He could hear their breathing, they were so close to him.

"Nothing," one man said with disgust.  "Let's get back there and tell Chan."

Peter waited as they walked back towards the door in the far wall.  Then he followed.

**************
 

Part 8

Sophie stared up at the features she knew so well, twisted into an expression she had never seen.  "What are you doing?" she repeated softly.  She watched as her uncle looked at her and really saw who was standing in front of him.

"Sophie?"  Her uncle looked down at her, his face going blank with shock.  "You're not supposed to be here..."

He stared at her for a moment, then pulled himself together.  "Take her to the office," he said, pointing at Sophie.  The man standing with him moved to obey.  The memory of kidnapping at the library and the trip in the back of the truck ran through Sophie's mind. She looked at the faces of her friends and slipped from the bodyguard's grasp, running to Caine.

She threw her arms around his waist and turned to face her uncle.  "No," she said firmly.  "No, I won't leave my friends."  She felt the warm hand of the priest rest on her shoulder... and the urge to burst into tears stopped.  Her friends clustered behind her and Jessie rested her hand on Sophie's other shoulder.

Chan stared at the defiant little face and felt his heart crumble.  Ever since he had been told the location of the kidnapping...he had been so careful...planned for everything.  His sister had promised to be at a family celebration.  "Why aren't you at your cousin's birthday party?" he asked, looking at a point over her head.

"Momma said I didn't have to go.  I wanted to hear what was happening in the story.  I wanted to be with my friends.  I was supposed to go to Christina's afterward for a sleepover."  She glared up at her uncle, willing him to see how important this was to her.

Chan looked over the other children, seeing, for the first time, the faces of his niece's friends. Each one an individual, with families and names and friends.  Suddenly, his mouth was dry, his head ached.  The kids looked from him to Sophie. The silence grew.
 

Ayaas finally broke it.  "He's really your uncle?"

Sophie nodded, looking down at the ground.  She sniffed.

"It's okay," Ayaas said, with a sympathetic nod, "My father says we can't always choose our relatives."

Instinctively, the children gathered closer to Sophie, to comfort her.  Christina patted her on the back.  "My cousin was arrested last year."

"My sister got caught shoplifting," Mathew whispered.

"I have an uncle who almost went to jail," Ayaas added, pushing Mathew away to stand beside Sophie.

"SHUT UP!"

The group turned to stare at Sophie's red-faced uncle.  He was rubbing the back of his neck, as if something there hurt.  He wouldn't...quite...look at them.

"Chan," Caine said softly, "You must let these children go."

Chan laughed, but there was no humor in the sound.  "Believe me, I would like nothing better."  He looked away from the somber gaze of the priest.

"Then do so."  Caine pressed.  "They are innocents, and should not be used this way."

Chan shook his head.  "You know me, Caine," he said, aiming a crooked grin at the older man, "I'm never the one running the show.  I just organize it."

The priest tilted his head.  "Who is...running the show?"

"Can't tell you that."  Chan said, for the first time regreting that fact.  He motioned the bodyguard to leave the room.  He followed, stopping in the doorway.  One last chance...  "Sophie?"

The little girl shook her head, lips trembling.  "I won't leave my friends."

Chan sighed.  He looked at Caine.  "You will be kept here until we receive the ransom.  This room is escape-proof...you can't get out from inside it."  His voice seemed oddly intent.  He raised one eyebrow and studied the older man.  "Do you understand?"

"Yes."  The priest inclined his head.  He had heard more than the words spoken.

"Good."  After one last, lingering look at his niece, Chan joined the waiting bodyguard, slamming the door behind him.

Sophie's tears overflowed.  "Oh honey," Jessie said, kneeling and taking the little girl into her arms.  The other children came around, some of them looking like they might cry too.  Jessie looked up at Caine.  He touched Sophie's cheek as he knelt beside the two.

"It will be all right.  Your uncle will help us." Sophie looked doubtful.

So did Jessie.  "Did I miss something?" she asked.  "Her uncle certainly didn't sound like he was going to help us."

"Perhaps," Caine answered absently.  He returned to his feet and looked at the other children.  Christina, John and Anthony were still wearing the schoolbags they had not yet taken off when the kidnapping occurred.  "What do you children have in your back...packs?" he asked.

Looking surprised, John shrugged.  "School stuff," he said.  He wiggled around until he got the bag off, then dumped it out on the floor.  Christina and Anthony followed suit.  Books tumbled out, followed by corrected tests and school supplies-pencils, erasers, glue, along with much unidentifiable "stuff".

Caine poked through the pile, looking for something.  The children watched curiously.  "Ah!" he exclaimed with delight, holding up a small kit with four containers of paint.

"That's for a poster I have to make."  Anthony said.

"Now, it is to guard our privacy."  Caine uncovered one container and with a finger, smeared green paint thickly across the mirror.  He had no doubt that the 'mirror' allowed someone to watch them.

"Cool!" Ayaas said approvingly.  "Can I do that too?"

"Yes."  The priest handed the paint to the boy, then motioned to the other children.  "Cover the entire surface."  He smiled slightly as the children enthusiastically set to work; even Sophie sniffed in a few last tears and joined in.

Jessie touched his arm, drawing his attention.  "What was that, at the end?"  she asked, lowering her voice so the children wouldn't hear.  "Chan sounded like he was trying to tell you something."

"I believe he was."  Caine said.  Absentmindedly, he began picking up the supplies and repacking the children's bags.  "There is no way out of the room from inside; but there is a way from outside.  My son is close.  He will find us and we can get the children out."

"What do you mean, your son is close?"  Jessie asked with confusion.

"He was at the library...He followed as we came here," Caine explained.  "He is in the building now."  He watched as John giggled at Christina's painting technique, which seemed to include a great deal of paint ending up in her hair.

Jessie ignored the children and put a hand on Caine's arm.  "What good will it do?  That man said that we can't escape from this room."

"No," Caine corrected gently.  "Chan said that the room is escape-proof, and that we could not get out from inside.  What he did not say is that we can get out with help from outside.  He knows, as do I, that Peter will come for us."

Jessie looked puzzled as she worked this out.  Caine took that opportunity to examine the door through which they had entered the room.  Placing his hands flat against the surface, he closed his eyes and tried to reach out to his son.  Instead, he felt something unusual in the door itself.

"What is it?" Jessie asked, watching a slight frown cross his face.

"There is a...signal...on this door.  If it is opened, an alarm rings elsewhere in the building."

"Even if it's opened from the outside?"

"Yes."  Caine walked past the children to the other door.  Jessie followed him, looking on as he repeated the procedure.

"Well?" Jessie asked impatiently.  Although she thought of herself as a practical person, there was some quality about this man that made her believe that he could do the impossible.  "Is this one monitored too?"

Caine ignored her question, leaning his head against the door.  There was a feeling of...richness, of opulence on the other side of this door, a distinct contrast to the shabby concrete cinder blocks and graffiti of the room they were in. No one was in the room on the other side, although there was a sense of emptiness, as if someone had just left.  Unlike with Chan, the presence did not feel familiar, yet Caine could not quite put aside the feeling that he had some connection to the occupant. Although the door was locked, there were no sensors on it.  When the time came, he would be able to unlock the door quite easily.  Leaving the building would be another matter.
*************
 

*Part 9*

Peter followed the two men to a long corridor.  He had to wait until they turned a corner before walking softly where they had been, gun in hand.  He had a brief moment of panic when he turned a corner and saw no one, but in a quick glance around, he saw a door click shut.  Peter cautiously approached the door and put his ear to it.

He could hear no words, just the rise and fall of voices.  They suddenly got louder as whoever was talking came towards Peter.  On silent feet, he ran and ducked into a doorway further down the corridor.  A silent twist of the knob revealed that the door itself was locked, so Peter flattened himself against the door and remained as still as possible; hoping that the bodyguards weren't coming this way.

They didn't.  Peter heard them leaving in the opposite direction.  He was about to follow again when he felt a familiar presence behind him.  "Pop?"  Peter called softly, turning towards the door.

There was a pause, followed by some excited squeaks, then Peter heard his father's voice coming clearly through the door.  "Peter?  You must go to the other door."

<Right,> Peter thought, <No 'Glad to see you, my son'; no 'Is that you?'  Just 'Go to the other door.'>  "Pop," he said, with the slightest hint of irritation, "Are you alright?  Are the kids with you?  Did you know Chan is behind this?  What do you mean the other door?  Why can't you do the Shaolin lock thing?"

He felt rather than heard his father sigh.  "Peter, I am fine, the children are fine.  We are all here.  Yes, I could do the...lock thing.  But this door is...monitored by our captors.  They will know immediately when it is opened.  The other door to this room is not monitored, but it is on the opposite wall.  I cannot arrange our escape and defend the children.  You must help me."

Peter stopped, mouth open, slightly surprised that his father needed his help.  "How do you know all that?  Never mind," he said, with a quick headshake, "I don't want to know.  Do you have any idea how I get to the other door?"

"I do not, but I have no doubt that you will find it.  You must come quickly, I believe that there is not much time."

Peter eyed the door, wishing he could see his father's face.  "There never is," he muttered.   "How many guards have you seen?"

"Three, and Chan.  However, there is at least one other involved"

"Okay, hold on Pop, I'll be there in a bit."  Peter patted the door, knowing his father would pick up on the emotion behind it, and set off down the corridor.  He tried every door that he passed, but all were locked.  At the end of the corridor, he turned left, following the wall.  There was a set of double doors at the end.

Peter stopped at the doors and cautiously walked through the one on the left.  It was like walking into another world.  Left behind was the dingy warehouse corridor of unpainted cinder blocks-this hallway was painted a rich red; original artwork hung every few feet.  Several stands held fresh flowers.  It shared one characteristic with the corridor he had left behind-there was no one around.

He walked down the hallway, counting paces.  He did not try the doors in this hallway, it was far too likely that there were people behind those doors; people who either knew exactly what was going on, or people who would get hurt if he dragged them into this mess.  Either way, he didn't want to encounter anyone.

Finally, he reached two doors.  His sense of direction told him that one of these doors led to the room where his father and the children were.  <Shaolin senses, don't fail me now,> he thought as he tried to feel his father's presence behind the first door.  Nothing.  He moved to the second door and felt, not only his father, but the children and the woman as well.
Wishing that he had Kermit at his back, he opened the door and walked in.
**************

*Part 10*

Kermit slammed the door of the unmarked cruiser and stalked over to Peter's Stealth.  Pulling out a set of keys, he opened the driver's door, he reached under the seat and pulled out Peter's cellular.  "Great," he growled, "Not only does the kid not have backup, he has no way to call us if he's in trouble."

Strenlich scowled.  "The black and whites should be here in a few minutes.  Let's locate the trucking company and see if we can find Peter or those kids before all hell breaks loose."

"Remember, we're talking about Peter here." Kermit commented dryly as he led the way down the street.  Like Peter, the two cops checked out the neighborhood and noted the shabbiness and neglect.

"Hard to believe that one of the ritzier business districts in the city is only a block away," Strenlich said as he looked at the glass from one more broken window littering the sidewalk.

Kermit snorted.  "Why?  Elaborate facades usually hide the seamier undersides of life.  I find it harder to believe that Chinatown is only a block in the other direction."

Frank shook his head.  "Kermit, you are the most...."  His words stopped abruptly as he grabbed the detectives sleeve.

"Hands off, Chief." Kermit said, pulling away.  His eyes were already focusing on the scene that held Strenlich's attention.  "My, my, my.  Old friends really do show up in the most interesting places."

Their "old friend" Chan, last seen over a year ago, was talking to two men in a black car.  It looked like they were having an argument.  Chan had one arm resting on the top of the car; the other was tucked in the front pocket of his jacket.  The two detectives could barely make out the faces of the men in the BMW, but what little they saw looked unhappy.

"So, how do we play this, Chief?" Kermit asked, committing the plate number to memory.  His hand touched the gun under his jacket.

"Let's wait a minute and see what happens," Strenlich said.  "If we have to go through them to get to Peter and the kids, we will...but until we know where they are, we need to be careful."

************************************************
 

*Part 11*

The children were restless.

"Why don't we sit in the corner, and I'll read to you."  Jessie suggested, trying to sound cheerful.

"We don't have any books," Christina reminded her.

"Yes we do," Ayaas said.  He walked over to the pile of school materials from the backpacks and pulled out three books.  He carried them to Jessie and handed them over.

Jessie looked at the covers.  Although she had been hoping for something to distract the children, the selection left much to be desired--a book in the latest horror series, a story about a boy who was kidnapped by his father, and a preteen romance.  "Um...maybe I could tell you a story," she said, closing her eyes and trying to think of one in her repertoire that was light-hearted.

"We will have...no need for a story," Caine stated, rescuing her from her predicament.  "Children, you must listen to me."  He motioned for them to gather around him.  They did, wide-eyed and expectant.

"Are we escaping now?" Ayaas asked eagerly.

"We are." Caine said.  He waited as Jessie hushed the children's cheers. When they were quieted, he started again.

"My son, Peter, is a...cop.  He will be here in a few moments."  Caine looked sternly at the children.  "You must do exactly as he says.  You must also be very silent.  We do not want to...attract attention.  Can you do that?"  He smiled slightly at the eager nods.  Only Christina opened her mouth to say something, but Anthony nudged her with his elbow and she stopped.

"Good."  Caine said, with a nod to Anthony, who ducked his head and grinned.  Christina made a face, but remained silent.  "Very good," the priest said, raising one eyebrow.

Peter's whisper outside their entrance to the room raised only a few excited squeals, quieted quickly with a glance from Jessie.  When Caine told him to go around to the other door, the children were quiet.

The wait seemed endless.  Ayaas appointed himself organizer and paired the other children up.  "Partners stick together," he told Caine, who was watching him silently.  "And help each other.  We may need to help each other."  With a quick grin, he placed himself last in line beside Sophie. They waited patiently.

***************************

Peter stepped into an office.  A thick oriental carpet muffled the sound of his footsteps. Dark mahogany furniture filled the room.  An enormous desk took up half the space, with very little on it-only a small stack of folders and two picture frames, the backs to Peter.

Although the door to free his father was right in front of him, curiosity and his detective instincts took over.  Peter picked up one of the pictures and turned it around.  "Oh, shit," he breathed as he looked at the face smiling up at him.
 

~~ flashback ~~

Peter used the handcuffs, locking the burly man's hands behind his back.  He took a deep breath and started the Miranda warning.  "You have the right...."  He glanced at the man's daughter as he continued to recite.  Diana Pearce was watching her father's arrest, dry-eyed and speechless.
Finishing the warning, Peter pulled Avery Pearce towards the front door of his elegant home.  Diana stood in the doorway.  She moved silently aside as the two men came towards her.

"Wait," Pearce demanded.  "I want to talk to my daughter."  Peter paused, looking at Strenlich for confirmation.  Peter had known the Chief for years as a family friend; this was the first time they had worked a case together.  Frank shrugged, then nodded his assent.

"Diana..."

The teenager shook her head.  "I don't want to hear it, Daddy," she said, her voice too level.  "You were selling drugs to my friends.  There's nothing you can say to make that okay."  Her voice broke as tears started.  "I never want to see you again."

Pain filled the man's eyes.  "Diana, I'm sorry..."  He shrugged off Peter's grasp and took a step towards his daughter.

"No!"  She took two steps back.  "Tell Teddy's parents you're sorry.  Tell Mom you're sorry.  But don't tell me.  I don't care."  She turned and walked away from her father, pausing at the staircase to the upper floor.  "Goodbye, Daddy," she said, not looking at him.  Peter watched as she ran up the stairs.

Avery Pearce dropped his head to his chest.

"Come on, Mr. Pearce," Peter said gently, placing his hand on the man's shoulder.  He could almost feel sorry for him.

Pearce's head came up swiftly, his eyes glittering as he glared at Peter.  "Detective Caine, I will never forget what you have done to my family." The cold rage in his low voice sent tendrils of ice down Peter's spine.  "Never," the man repeated as he threw off Peter's hand and marched outside to the waiting cruiser.

~~end flashback~~
 

"Diana Pearce."  Peter said, looking at the smiling young face.  He picked up the second picture.  In it, Diana, dressed in a riding outfit, was holding a trophy in one hand and had the other arm wrapped around her father.  He was holding a horse by the reins and smiling down at her.  They both looked happy.  Both pictures had been taken prior to Avery's arrest.

Peter shook himself back to the present and carefully put the pictures back down.  His father needed him, and so did a pack of innocent kids.  If Avery Pearce was involved in this, he would put the puzzle pieces together after they were all safely out of the situation.
****************
 

*Part 12*

The children were lined up, two by two, with Jessie and his father in the front when Peter opened the door.  "Pop!"  he said, wrapping one long arm around his father's shoulders.  He glanced quickly at the others, confirming that everyone was, in fact, all right.

"Peter."  His father acknowledged him calmly.  "The children are ready to go."

"Yeah, okay."  Peter threw a distracted glance at the door across the room.  "Are you sure we can't go that way, Pop?  It's probably shorter."  <Not to mention that I don't know how to get out this way.> Peter thought to himself.  He hadn't seen a way out to the street during his prowl around the corridors.

"They will be listening for the alarm, Peter," his father said, with a frown.  "We cannot."

<Why would it be easy?> Peter thought as he pulled his gun out of the holster and clicked off the safety.  "Fine.  Pop, you lead the way out, the kids and the librarian will follow you, and I'll guard the rear."  He saw the disapproving look as his father glanced at the gun.  "Pop, I'm not going to argue with you!  I know you can use your Shambhalla wisdom or something to lead us straight out.  We don't have a lot of time.  Go!"

With the look Peter had learned to interpret as 'your methods we will discuss later', the elder Caine led the children and Jessie past the door Peter still held ajar.

As they filed past the desk and towards the second door, the pictures caught Jessie's eye.  "Diana?"

"You know this girl?"  Peter asked, handing her the photo and frame, and urging her to keep moving.

"She worked for me at the Library... She and her mother disappeared about four years ago.  Does she have anything to do with this?"

"I don't know.  Look, we can talk about this later."  Peter urged the woman to walk, staying between the first group of four children and the second.  Maybe if anyone did happen to see them, they would figure it was a class visit or something.

He felt his father's relief as he sighted the exit and had just enough time to think they were all going to make it...when a door suddenly opened, separating Peter and the last four children from the rest of the group.

"Damn!"  The man who opened the door was one of the bodyguards Peter had seen earlier.  In such a close space, he couldn't shoot without risking a bullet hitting one of the children.  Pushing the two kids in front of him away from the bodyguard, Peter kicked out at the man, shouting, "Get the kids out!" to his father and Jessie.

Kwai Chang Caine spared one glance behind him, then hurried the first group of four children towards the exit.  Once the children were safe, he would return to Peter.

Jessie grabbed the hands of Anthony and Molly and pulled them towards the doors to freedom.  <Peter will be right behind me,> she told herself as she ran.  "Come on kids," she called back, sure that the last two would be right at her heels.

They might have been, except that the second bodyguard was right behind the first.  He took in the situation at a glance and scooped up the last girl, placing one hand over her mouth just as she opened it to scream for help.

Peter took this in, dodging a vicious punch to his head.  As he ducked, he stumbled over Ayaas, who was trying to help Sophie.  Peter hit his head on the wall and fell heavily to the ground, the thick carpeting muffling the sound.  Before he could jump back to his feet, the bodyguard was kneeling on his chest, a gun under his chin.

"Not a sound," he warned in a low growl.  "Get up here, boy," he said, motioning to Ayaas, who was half under Peter.  After one wistful look at the still swinging door of the exit, Ayaas did as he was told.  The bodyguard grabbed one arm and moved the gun to the boy's temple.  "Now, unless you want this kid to be six inches shorter, you'll come quietly."

Peter pushed himself to his feet.  "I'll come quietly," he said, furious at himself for failing.  "Just put that thing away," he said, motioning to the gun.  As the man holding Sophie tucked her under one huge arm and covered Peter, the man with Ayaas placed his gun into a shoulder holster.  Bending down, he picked up Peter's Baretta and tucked it into the back of his pants.

"Move," he said, motioning Peter towards the open door.  Peter had just passed him on his way to the door when the man pulled out the Baretta and struck the detective.  As Peter collapsed, unconscious, the last thing he heard was Sophie's shrill scream.
**************
 

*Part 13*

Caine led the children out of the building and onto a busy street.  His eyes narrowed as he heard the sounds of sirens in the distance.  "This way," he said, putting himself between the children and the building they had just left.  He tried to move them along, but as soon as he convinced one child to walk, another would stop.

"But the others..." John said, looking back at the building they had just exited.

"I will return for them," the priest said firmly, feeling like a harassed shepherd trying to keep his flock in motion.  Each child seemed determined to go his or her own way.  "First, I must get you to safety."

"Wait!" Christina cried, pulling away from the group.  "It's Jessie and Anthony and Molly.  They're coming."

"Yes," Caine said, closing his eyes as he felt the pain of Peter hitting the wall.  "We must go now.  The sooner we reach safety, the sooner I can go back for..." He faltered as he sensed Peter's descent into unconsciousness.

"There were men..." Jessie gasped as she pulled her two charges up beside the other children.  "Peter was fighting them..." She stopped as she saw the pain in the priest's eyes.  "Go back for them, Caine," she urged.  "I can get the kids away."

Caine hesitated momentarily, but then a large man came out of the building and started running towards the little group.  "No.  We must go.  Now."  He added emphatically, guiding the children in front of him.

They moved quickly as they traveled down the street.  Jessie hesitated when Caine turned down a dark and gloomy alleyway, but her confidence in his abilities overcame her fear.

They came out of the alley on a dirty, abandoned street.  No, not abandoned, Jessie noted as she saw the two men walking towards them.  She tried to shield the children behind her when the first man shouted.

"It is...all right," Caine stated, "They are friends of my son.  Fellow...cops."
 

"Caine!"  Strenlich shouted as they saw the familiar battered hat and brown coat.  Kermit was beside him, counting heads, as they picked up the pace and approached the weary little group.

"Six kids, one woman and Caine."  He said to Strenlich.  "We're missing two kids, and Peter."  He studied the group as they approached.  The kids appeared to be fine-in fact, one or two looked like they were having the time of their life.  The librarian looked tired and relieved.  Caine looked...troubled.

"Peter and two children are still in the building," Caine said.  "These children need to be cared for.  I will go back for my son."

"Not without me you won't," Kermit growled.

Strenlich sighed loudly, but didn't contradict the detective.  "Be careful," he warned.  "I'll send units to..."

"The Palmer Building," Anthony supplied.  "What?  The name was on the front," he protested, as everyone looked at him.

Strenlich rubbed the back of his neck and repeated, "...the Palmer Building, as soon as I get back to the car.  Meanwhile, I'll bring these guys down to the station.  Good thing we brought my car and not Griffin's," he added to himself as he motioned for the majority of the group to follow him.  Even though it would be difficult to fit six children and two adults into a late-model Chevrolet, it would have been impossible to fit them into a Corvair.

***********

Kermit studied Kwai Chang Caine's face as they trotted back down the alley.  "Something's wrong, isn't it?" he asked.  He wasn't exactly sure what made him think that, Caine's face was expressionless.  Maybe it was something in his eyes...or maybe Kermit had used the same lack of expression himself too many times, allowing him to read Caine better than anyone.

In any case, it appeared he was right.  Caine nodded once.  "Peter is...unconscious.  I cannot sense his presence.  We must return to the...Palmer Building before they take him and the children elsewhere."

Kermit sucked in a breath.  "You think they can get out of there without passing us?"

"I fear that there are many exits, and not all of them are easy to find.  Peter may already be gone."

A breath of hope stirred the detective's thoughts.  "You spent several hours with the two kids...can you feel them?"

Caine concentrated for a moment, then shook his head in defeat.  "I do not know them well enough to be sure...but I fear they are no longer in this area."
*************
 

*Part 14*

Peter Caine groaned.  His head hurt.  He tried to raise his hand to feel the source of the pain, but he couldn't seem to move one arm without moving the other.  It was too much to try to figure out.  He attempted to open his eyes, but the barest glimpse of light seemed to bring the ache in his head to an intolerable level.  Instead, he tried to relax and take in his surroundings.

There were sudden whisperings around him.  "See, I told you he wasn't dead," one voice proclaimed, sounding triumphant.

"Why won't he wake up then?"  the other voice asked.  Peter could barely hear it.

"I don't know.  On TV they slap somebody to wake them up."

There was a short silence.  "I'm not slapping anyone," the quieter voice said.

"Sometimes they throw water to wake them up."

This time, the other voice sounded practical.  "That would be messy."

"I know that."  The first speaker sounded slightly offended.  Peter could feel eyes watching his every move.

There was silence for a moment.  "Maybe there's a towel or something in that bathroom," the first voice said after a while.

This was very interesting listening, but it didn't make Peter feel any better.  Another groan slipped out as he tried to ask the voices who they were.

"Let's go see," someone said.  There was the sound of feet walking away.  Vaguely, Peter translated the next noise as water running nearby, then the feet came back.  A wet cloth dropped on his head.

"You can't just drop it!"  The voices were growing louder as they got interested in what they were doing.  "You have to wash his head or something."  The wet towel was removed, and Peter could feel small hands using the towel to dab at his temples and forehead.  It felt good.

"Maybe we should wash away the blood on the back of his head." Peter had pulled his wits together enough to realize that this was a boy's voice.

"You mean, maybe *I* should?"  This time it was a girl speaking.  Peter gasped as she gently lifted his head and placed the cold, wet towel right on the spot where his head hurt the most.  His eyes flew open and he focused on the two small faces hovering over him.

"Hi,"  the boy said.  "Are you going to get up now?"

"I don't know...should I?" Peter asked, still trying to pull himself together.

"Yes," the girl said.  "Me and Ayaas will help you."  With a child on each side, Peter was raised to a sitting position.  He saw the reason he couldn't move his hands; they were cuffed in front of him.

He raised both hands so that one could feel the bump.  Although the lump was tender, blood was no longer flowing.  "Thank you, Ayaas and..."

"Sophie."

"Sophie."  Peter repeated.  "I'm Peter."

"We know.  Your father told us your name."  Ayaas said.

"Of course he did."  Peter muttered.  "Did my father and the other kids get away?"  Both children nodded, staring at him wide-eyed.  "Do you kids know where we are?"

In unison, shook their heads.  "After they hit you, one of those big guys picked you up and they made us all go in the elevator."  Ayaas said.  "It went down to a parking garage."

Sophie continued, "There was a limo, with dark windows.  They put you in the trunk, then they made me and Ayaas get in and drink something, and we fell asleep."

"We woke up here."  Ayaas finished.  "I think it's an attic-the ceilings are slanted and the only windows are tiny ones near the floor; but they're boarded up on the outside.  There's a little bathroom over there," he pointed somewhere behind Peter, "and stairs over there."

Peter looked around the room; there was actually quite a bit of floor space, but the ceiling was sharply angled; he doubted he could walk upright more than four feet across the room.  He could see the staircase leading down.  He agreed with the kids that it was an attic-it had that little-used, musty smell that he associated with attics.  There were a few chairs at one end of the attic, and a stack of headboards beside them.  A light fixture in the middle of the ceiling held a low-wattage bare bulb, which allowed them to see their surroundings, just barely.

"The door at the bottom is locked," Sophie said.  "We tried to open it."

"We're in big trouble, aren't we?"  Ayaas asked, looking at Peter, his dark eyes troubled.  "Caine said that Sophie's uncle was going to help us escape, and he did, but do you think he can help us again?"

"Sophie's uncle?"  Peter asked, looking at the obviously Chinese Sophie.  The ache in his head started up again.  "Sophie, what's your last name?"

"Li.  But his last name is Chan."

"Chan is your uncle?"  Sophie nodded.  Peter's mind raced. "Look, Sophie.  Unless he mentions it first, don't let anyone know the two of you are related, okay?"

"Okay," Sophie agreed in a shaky voice.

Peter looked at her small, miserable face and wondered how his father would handle this.  With a smile tipping at the corners of his mouth, he cupped her cheek with one hand.  "If it helps, I think he did try to get you out of there," he told her.  It was the right thing to do.  She leaned into him and sighed.

"All right, help me up you two," he finally said, rising to his feet.

"What are we going to do?"  Ayaas asked eagerly.

"We're going to see if there's a way out of here."  Peter answered.

"How?"

Peter shrugged, "We'll start with the door, and go from there," he answered.
*****************
 

*Part 15*

The precinct was in chaos.  Strenlich had sent black and whites to the Palmer Building, then driven the kids to the station.  It had been quite a trip over; Jessie had sat up front with him, all six children had crammed into the back seat.  One was lecturing him on the lack of seatbelts, two were encouraging him to use the siren and drive faster, and one child was crying.  With relief, the Chief hoped.  To top it all off, he was beginning to regret allowing Kermit and Caine go off on their own.

Once inside, he had appropriated one of the interrogation rooms and herded the children inside.  On the way over, he had discovered that they hadn't eaten since lunchtime, so he had an officer waiting with pizzas. While they ate, he took down their names and parent's phone numbers.  Now, stomachs full, they were going through the mug books, looking for shots of the kidnappers.

Strenlich motioned for Skalany and Blake to watch the kids while he spoke to Jessie.  They hadn't had a chance to talk with her yet; she had been busy keeping the kids calm.  He handed her a cup of coffee and took one for himself.  "Okay, Miss Reed..."

"Jessie, please."  She interrupted, watching him write something on the form in front of him.

"Jessie," he repeated obediently.  "Have you ever seen any of the kidnappers before today?"

She considered the question carefully.  "No, I haven't.  But Caine had."

"What?  How do you know?"  Caught by surprise, the question popped out.

"He knew one of them, called him by name on sight.  His name was Chan." Jessie said.  "Sophie said he's her uncle."

Strenlich choked on a mouthful of coffee.  "Chan?  You're sure it was Chan?"

Jessie nodded.

Skalany had heard the name and come over to investigate.  "Tall, handsome, Chinese, uses a large vocabulary?" she asked.

"That sounds like him," Jessie agreed.  The two detectives exchanged an unreadable look.

"Which one is Sophie?"  Skalany asked, glancing at the kids.

Jessie looked down at the table.  "She's with Caine's son...she didn't get out of the building."  She ran her finger over a pattern carved into the table.  "I think that Chan helped us escape...he and Caine had a strange conversation..."

"How strange?"  the dark-haired detective asked, her voice sharp.

The librarian hesitated, "Well, it wasn't what they said, it was more what they didn't say.  Like they were talking around something.  But I think Chan somehow told Caine that he could escape.  There's something else,"  she said, remembering the photo Peter had handed her.  She pulled it out from her pocket.  "This is a picture of a girl who used to work at the library...but she disappeared a few years ago."

"What does that have to do with this case?" Strenlich asked, taking the picture.

"This picture was on the desk in the office we went through...and Peter seemed to know who she was."

Strenlich looked at the picture and frowned.  "Diana Pearce," he said heavily.  Both Jessie and Mary Margaret looked with surprise at the Chief.  He shook his head.  "If Avery Pearce is aligned with Chan, Peter Caine is in serious trouble."

********************

Kermit was ready to erupt.  The first problem was getting into the Palmer Building.  Someone had locked the door.  This, of course, had proven to be no problem to the Shaolin priest at his side.  Even if Kermit had been alone, a locked door wouldn't have stopped him, but it was irritating.

The next aggravation was the two security guards who came out of nowhere to stop them.  A flash of his badge had made them back off, but Kermit wondered where they had been when his friends needed help.  The guards wouldn't leave them alone.  They trailed behind as Caine led Kermit to the room where he and the children had been prisoners.

The last straw was the empty office and the small conference room beyond it.  Both rooms were completely void of anything but furniture.  The photos and stack of folders Caine had remembered seeing on the desk were gone.  The children's backpacks, left behind in the escape, were also missing.  The only thing that showed they had been there was the poster paint still smeared over the mirror.

"These guys work fast," Kermit growled, opening yet another empty drawer in the ornate office.  "It doesn't look like they left anything behind."

"They did not."  Caine agreed, his eyes roaming around the room.

With a sound of disgust, Kermit straightened.  The head security man looked nervous as the detective stalked over to him.  "What can you tell me about the person who rented this office?" he demanded.

The security officer looked like he wasn't going to answer, until Kermit grabbed his tie and pulled him forward.  "My friend has disappeared because of the men in this room," he said quietly into the man's face, "and I want to know everything you know about them."  The words were all the more menacing from the cold, emotionless delivery.

"They...it...he..." the security officer stammered, hardly able to get any words out.  "It was rented last week.  The man paid cash.  I heard this morning that the address he gave was bogus.  I don't know anymore...honest!"  His voice rose to a squeak as he watched Kermit's free fist clench with fury.

Two uniformed officers arrived on the scene at that moment.  Kermit let go and waved a disgusted hand in the direction of the security man.  "Take him down to the station for questioning.  Get a fingerprint team up here.  Dust everything.  See what you can find out about the person who was renting this office...use whatever channels are necessary."

He whirled on his heel.  "Come on Caine, let's go back to the 101.  I need to try to access some records from my computer.  Maybe we can find Chan and Peter that way."

Caine inclined his head and followed Kermit.    Until Peter regained consciousness, he would wait...and having his son's friends around him would make the wait more bearable.
******************

*Part 16*

"Where's Strenlich?"  Kermit demanded as he entered the precinct.

Sergeant Broderick looked up from his paperwork.  "In Interrogation Room three with a bunch of kids.  Go on in," he added.  "I think they're having a pizza party in there."

Kermit snorted as he led Caine down the hall to the room.  As they approached the door, it opened and Strenlich and Mary Margaret walked out.  Frank was still holding the photo that Jessie had given him.

"All right, Chief,"  Mary Margaret was saying, "Who is Diana Pearce?  And who is Avery Pearce?"

Strenlich observed the approaching men without surprise.  "I guess you should hear this too," he said in greeting.  His hand rubbed the back of his neck, he obviously felt uncomfortable.  Skalany and Kermit exchanged worried glances.

"It was my last case before I was promoted to Chief," Strenlich started.  "Peter had just been made detective and transferred over here.  Paul wanted me to show him the ropes, so we went after a drug dealer in Chinatown as partners.  We discovered he had a major pipeline to Rosedale.

"We followed the trail just a day too late-a bunch of kids had overdosed on a bad batch...and one died.  The school board was horrified-claimed that kids in their town were too clean for drugs.  They wanted us to address a school assembly...tell the kids if they had any information they should come to us.  Peter did the honors, we figured that the kids might listen better to someone around their own age."  Strenlich said, looking at his audience.

"Makes sense," Skalany nodded.

"We really didn't expect anything to come of it...kids usually won't rat each other out."  Strenlich sighed.  "After the kids left the auditorium, we were ready to leave...and Diana Pearce came in.

"She seemed nervous, fiddling with her hair, looking everywhere but at us.  Peter talked her into sitting, calmed her down, asked her what she wanted to say."  Strenlich looked at the faces hanging on his every word.  "She told us that her father was the one who was supplying drugs to kids from his office at the local hospital."

"He worked at the hospital?"  Kermit asked.

"He was a doctor."  Strenlich said heavily.  "Seems he had always lectured her about the dangers of using drugs... when she found out that he was selling them to her friends, she didn't know what to do.  The boy that died was a friend of hers, so she decided to turn in her father."

"Poor kid," Mary Margaret said.  Caine rested his hand on her shoulder.  Absently, she patted it.  "So, what happened?"

"We needed proof in addition to her testimony. Peter went in undercover to buy some drugs.  Pearce actually told Peter to pick up the drugs at his home."  Strenlich looked away, remembering the ugly scene.  "Diana wasn't supposed to be there, but she was.  Peter arrested her father in front of her, and she told Avery she never wanted to see him again.  Pearce eventually found out that she was the one who turned him in, only he wouldn't believe it.  Thought that Peter convinced her to do it.

"During the trial, we learned that Diana and her mother had vanished, apparently of their own volition.  Avery Pearce told Peter that he had caused him to lose his only child, that he would never forgive or forget him."  Strenlich lifted his shoulders.  "I don't think he'll have forgotten."

"No one has seen...Diana...since the arrest?" Caine asked.

Strenlich frowned.  "She was around after the arrest.  She disappeared during the trial.  She testified against her father in the first few days.  She and her mother were gone before the verdict.  You know Peter, he felt guilty.  I know he looked for her for a few months...I think he still checks periodically for any trace of her."

"What was the verdict?" Skalany asked.

"Guilty.  Pearce was sentenced to twenty years.  Obviously, he got out early."

The group stood awkwardly, no one quite able to say what they felt.  Kermit broke the silence.  "I'm going to go see what information I can dig up on Mr. Avery Pearce, Chan and little Sophie's family.  I'll look into Diana Pearce while I'm at it.  Maybe I can find out something." He turned to Peter's father.  "We'll find him, Caine."

******************
 

*Part 17*

 Peter had given up on going out through the door; it was solid maple and opened out.  The hinges were on the other side and the frame was sturdy.  He was now lying on his side, using a metal slat pulled out of one of the box spring mattresses to pry at the corner of a boarded-up window.

Sophie was squatting beside his head, trying to see if there was any light showing through.  Peter didn't have the heart to tell her that he was fairly certain it would be dark outside.  Ayaas checked each of the other windows, trying to see if any boards looked loose.  All three were surprised when they heard the sound of a key grating in a lock-then the attic door swung open and three men climbed the stairs.  The first two were the bodyguards from the Palmer Building...the third one was the man Peter had both expected and feared to see: Avery Pearce.

Peter dropped the slat and climbed awkwardly to his feet, the cuffs throwing him slightly off balance.  Sophie stood with him, peering out at the men from behind Peter's back.  Ayaas stayed where he was on the other side of the attic; the men were between him and his friends.  Peter settled himself firmly into place and tried to look confident.

Obviously, Pearce had not known who his captive was.  He came to an abrupt halt at the top of the stairs as he saw Peter for the first time.  His eyes widened, then narrowed as a pleased smile stole over his face.  "Well, well, well," he purred.  "Detective Peter Caine...what a pleasant surprise!  I was all set to teach my interfering guest a lesson in manners, but this is indeed an unexpected opportunity."

"Manners?"  Peter scoffed, ignoring the jibe,  "Which manners are we talking about?  Is there some rule about not rescuing kidnapped children?  Sorry, I never heard that one..."  He stood his ground as one of the burly bodyguards approached purposefully, and winced as he felt Sophie press closer to his side.  "Sophie," he said quietly, "go stand over against the wall."

Sophie shook her head.  "Go!"  Peter said urgently, pushing her gently away without taking his eyes off the man.  Sophie backed away; her gaze fixed on Peter.  Avery Pearce laughed, and put out one arm, stopping the bodyguard with the motion.

"Not yet, Dave," he scolded.  "I need to have a little chat with our friend."  Looking disappointed, Dave halted.

Pearce moved to stand in front of Peter.  "How long has it been, Detective?"

"Not long enough," Peter muttered under his breath.  He raised his hands to deflect a backhanded swing towards his face.  Pearce's breath hissed out with disappointment.

"You must have just got out, Pearce."  Peter said, hoping to distract him with questions.  "Why the kidnapping?  Why a bunch of kids?  What were you hoping to accomplish?"

"Money."  Pearce said calmly, circling the younger man.  Peter turned with him, watching him intently.  "You remember my daughter, don't you Detective?  The beautiful girl you turned against me?"  Peter's heart dropped as he saw the barely suppressed rage lurking under the calm façade.  "She disappeared, you know, during my trial.  I need money to locate her."

"Money?" Peter repeated, thinking of the large house, the two vacation homes, the sailboat and other expensive toys Pearce had owned; seized upon his arrest.  "If you hadn't wasted all your talents and energy on acquiring more money, and other things...Diana might still be with you."  Peter could have kicked himself for, once again, talking before thinking.

Pearce snarled, "I lost everything because of you, Caine.  I had just enough tucked safely away to seed this little operation.  It seemed appropriate...to get the money from the town where this all started.  Diana worked at the library, she used to talk about the programs."  He snorted.  "They hadn't changed anything. All I had to do was find out when there was a program after school-all kinds of little rich kids, no adults except the library staff around.  Take them, ask half a million dollars apiece as ransom, and have a tidy little sum to use to find my daughter."

"What if she doesn't want to be found?" Peter asked rashly.

"I'm her father.  Fathers and their children should be together."  Pearce stated, sidestepping the question.

Peter shook his head.  Although he was the last person to argue with *that * particular statement, he felt he had to try.  He feared for Diana if her father did find her.  "Fathers and their children should want to be together..." he began.

The rage boiled to the surface.  "Shut up!"  Avery Pearce shouted, attacking him with his fists.  Peter raised his handcuffed arms to defend himself.  Almost in reflex, his foot swung up at the man; he kicked Pearce in the stomach.  There was a whoof of escaping air, and Pearce landed on the ground, trying to catch his breath.

"You shouldn't 'a done that," Dave observed, stepping around Pearce's gasping body.  "Grab him, Vito."

Peter had come to that conclusion on his own.  He moved, trying to keep both Dave and Vito in his line of sight, but Dave went to the right and Vito to the left.

There was a flurry of movement as he kicked out, knocking Vito away, then Dave moved in behind him.  He tried, but all too quickly he was flat on the floor with Dave's knee in his back.

Moving as a well-organized team, Dave held him down as Vito removed the cuff from his right wrist and brought both arms around his back, snapping the cuffs back on.

"Get him on his feet," Pearce snarled, kneeling on the floor, holding his stomach.  "We're going to teach this worthless piece of garbage a lesson."

Peter closed his eyes.  <How do I get myself into these situations?>
*****************

*Part 18*
 

"Anything, Caine?"

Mary Margaret's voice was gentle as she placed one hand on the worried father's shoulder.

Caine shrugged, his face showing no emotion, but Mary Margaret could hear the strain in his voice. "Peter is...awake.  His head aches but he has not been harmed.  He is in an...attic with the children.  He does not know where they are."

Strenlich crossed the squad room to sit down beside Skalany.  "The kids and Jessie are all on their way home.    They identified the original kidnappers--local small-timers.  We've got an APB out on them."  His voice softened as he looked over at the priest.  "Don't worry Caine, we'll find them."

The door to Kermit's office opened, and the scowling detective came out with a pile of printouts.  He threw them on the desk in front of Skalany.  "Okay.  Not much to go on, I'm afraid.  Chan is clean, according to the computer--no record, no arrests, a professional student who doesn't seem to be enrolled anywhere."

"How is that possible?"  Skalany asked.

"He's either a professional hacker, or he's got connections..."  Kermit looked furious.  "Officially, Chan does not exist.  I found him by looking up Sophie's parents...the only place he appears in any database is as her mother's younger brother.  He not even in on our records of the Tan case.  They now say that Peter was shot by an 'unknown associate' of Tan's.  I will get to the bottom of this, after we find Peter."

They now had an audience as Jody and Blake joined them.  Kermit tapped the stack of papers on the desk.  "This is the information on Avery Pearce.  He got out of jail three months ago, never reported to his parole officer, who apparently did not see fit to mention that to anyone."

"Pearce used to be an extremely wealthy man, but most of his assets were seized when he was sent to prison.  He owned quite a bit of property.  I cross-referenced the property with current records, and I have several possibilities to check out that are still on the market or abandoned."

"Anything on Diana or her mother?"  Jody asked.

Kermit grinned.  "Guess who's living in Canada?"

"How did you find her?"  Skalany asked.

"How did Pearce miss her?"  Jody put in.

"I'm good, and Pearce doesn't have the right kind of contacts."  Kermit said with a smirk.  "Diana and Elizabeth Pearce are residents of a very small town in the northwest."

"How does this...information help us find Peter?"  Caine asked.

Kermit's scowl returned.  "It doesn't.  The girl might know a special place where her father might bring Peter, but we would have to contact her.  I'm not sure I want to bring her down here and risk getting her anywhere near her father."

Caine looked at his hands, the fingers interlocked.  "We should not."

"I have a...friend up there, who is willing to contact them in person; but it may take some time.  Until then, our best bet is to check out the property associated with Pearce.  Have there been any ransom demands?"

Strenlich shook his head.  "Nothing.  Nothing on the office rental either.  The company never rented it out.  Pearce and Chan showed up with keys and the paperwork last week, and set up shop.  We did discover that Pearce once owned the office building, and the trucking business behind it.  I can see you knew that though," he said, leafing through the stack of papers.

Suddenly, Caine stiffened.  "Ahh..."

"What is it?"  Skalany asked.  "What's happening, Caine?"

"Peter..." Caine gasped.  Pain tightened his face.  "Pearce has...lost patience with Peter.  He is...hurt."

"Where, Caine?  Can you tell where?"  Kermit asked urgently.

"No..."

*************

Ayaas stood in the shadows of the rafters and watched with horror as one of the big men grabbed Peter's arms. Dave held the detective in place as the man he had knocked down got to his feet and began punching.  Peter tried to kick him again, but the third man grabbed Peter's hair and said something that made him look at Sophie. Ayaas winced as Peter kind of sagged and let the man hit him.

Sophie was huddled in a dark corner with her knees drawn up to her chest.  She had put her head on her knees, wrapped her arms around herself and rocked.  Ayaas's little brother did that when he didn't want to see something.  The boy hesitated.  He wanted to do something to help, but what?  Peter looked up at that moment and met his eyes.  Ayaas flinched at the blood on his face.

Peter looked from Ayaas to the stairs, then to the men.  He deliberately closed his eyes and moved his head to the side sharply.  One of the men stood in front of him again and Ayaas couldn't see his face anymore.  Ayaas looked at the backs that blocked his view of Peter and realized that if he couldn't see their faces, they couldn't see him...and he knew what Peter had been trying to tell him.  Moving as quietly as he could, Ayaas headed down the stairs towards the open door at the bottom.

*******
 

*Part 19*

Creeping to the bottom of the attic staircase, Ayaas stuck his head out into the hall.  No sign of anyone.  Moving quietly into the hallway, he looked around.  There was another flight of stairs at the end of the hall, leading to a lower level.  There were several doors off to each side, but none were open.

Ayaas took a deep breath and moved towards the stairs.  From the top of these stairs he could see a table with a telephone on it in the lower hall, and past that, another flight of stairs that led down to a door that obviously went outside.  The phone or the door?  "Both."  Ayaas decided.  Swiftly, he made his way to the phone.  First, he'd call 911 and leave the phone off the hook, then he'd get out and look for help.  He lifted the receiver...and someone's finger pressed firmly on the disconnect button.

"What are you doing?"  Chan sounded curious, and slightly amused.  "Aren't you supposed to be up in the attic with Caine and the other kid?"

Ayaas opened his mouth, but nothing came out.  With a quick spin, he tried to run, but Chan caught his shirt and pulled him back.  He shifted his grip to the boy's collar and upper arm.  "Come on kid, it's just a couple days.  You and your buddy will be back home soon; nothing terrible is going to happen."

"Nothing terrible?"  Ayaas repeated, with outrage, the words tumbling out.  "You won't let us go home.  Three men came upstairs and are beating up Peter.  He's got blood on his face.  Sophie's so scared she's hiding in the corner.  We haven't had..."

Chan's grip tightened.  "You're hurting me!"  Ayaas protested, looking up at the tall man.  His face no longer looked amused.

"Sophie's here?"  Frightened, Ayaas just nodded.  "That son of a bitch," Chan cursed, "he said it was two boys."  Taking the stairs two at a time, he dragged Ayaas behind him.  Chan threw open the attic door but climbed these stairs at a more controlled pace.  Ayaas looked up; by the time they had reached the top, a lazy grin had returned to Chan's face--but Ayaas could tell it was false.

Chan gently pushed Ayaas towards Sophie and took in the scene in front of him.  Peter Caine, his hands cuffed behind him, hung from Dave's arms.  He was breathing in hoarse, rasping breaths.  As Peter glared at the new arrival, Chan noted that he looked terrible...there was blood on his face and shirt; sweaty hair hung in his eyes.  Blood stained the knuckles of the two men facing Caine.

"*What* is going on?"  Chan asked.  His three associates turned to look at him, the expressions on their faces ranging from mild surprise to rage.  None of them spoke.  Almost predictably, it was Peter Caine who broke the silence.

"Chan," he panted.  "Come to join in the fun?  You gonna get your hands dirty this time, or are you just gonna shoot me again?"  He groaned as Dave shook him roughly.

Chan winced as he glanced over at his niece.  She had lifted her head from her knees, and was watching him.  Tears stained her cheeks.

"We discussed this, Pearce," he said, ignoring Peter, pretending Sophie was not in the room.  "We can still get the money if we play this right.  We ask  the city for the ransom of two children and one of their finest, the Channel Three Action News hero.  We can't ask for a ransom if he's dead."

"How would they know?"  Pearce asked, with a casual backhand towards the captured detective's face.  Peter dodged, but his reflexes were off.  Chan watched, his face impassive, as blood started to trickle from another cut from the heavy ring the older man wore.

"They're not stupid.  They won't pay a ransom unless they know he's alive."  Pearce raised his hand again, this time in a fist, but Chan grabbed his arm in mid-motion.

"What's the deal, Pearce?  I thought you were a professional.  Do you know this cop?  Do you have some kind of grudge?"

Pearce whirled on Chan, eyes glittering.  "Yes, I know him.  He's the one who took everything away from me; my daughter, my money, my life.  I want him to suffer."

Chan frowned as several different scenarios rapidly ran through his mind.  He picked the one he felt would work and started talking.  "Well, join the club, Pearce.  Caine broke up a very lucrative organization I was running...drove me out of town.  Do you see me resorting to physical abuse?  There are better ways to get revenge."

A flicker of interest ignited in Pearce.  "How?"  he asked.

Chan tried to fan that spark.  "I can think of at least a couple different ways...AFTER we get the ransom."

"Got any examples?  Pearce asked harshly.  "I need more than that, before I agree to stop my fun."

Chan hesitated.  He had to make this good.  "Caine is afraid of heights," he said finally.

Pearce scoffed. "So what?  Lots of people are afraid of heights."

"Not like Peter Caine.  And anticipation makes it worse," Chan said slyly, getting into it now.

Pearce looked from Chan's smirk to the horrified expression Peter was trying to hide.  "You might be right, at that," he said thoughtfully.  "Okay, we'll get the ransom first.  Then we'll work on revenge.  Let him go, Dave."

Dave let go with a shove, laughing as Peter fell facedown on the floor. With his large foot, the bodyguard flipped the prone detective over.  Peter closed his eyes so as not to see the faces circling him, staring down. Pearce knelt and grabbed his chin, squeezing cruelly.  "Look at me, Caine."

Peter's eyes flew open.

"Heights, hmmm?"  Pearce murmured.  "Tall buildings, catwalks, open helicopters, water tanks...the list is endless, wouldn't you say, Caine?"  Whatever flashed across Peter's face must have satisfied him, for he smiled and let go.  "Think about it, Caine, I have three or four days to come up with the perfect plan."

Tapping Peter's cheek playfully, he regained his feet.  "Come on, boys, we have a ransom to demand."

As they left, Chan turned around and met Peter's dazed look with...regret?  "See you around, bro."  He said jauntily, the voice not matching the expression.  He hesitated for a moment, unsuccessfully searching the shadows for Sophie, then left.  The door slammed shut behind him.
***********
 

*Part 20*

"Peter?"  Ayaas cautiously approached the man discarded on the floor.  Sophie watched from her place in the shadows.

Peter sighed, or tried to.  Pain stabbed his lungs as cracked ribs protested.  He struggled to breathe in shallow gasps.  He was way too tired for this.  "Yeah?"

"Are you all right?"

Several answers passed through Peter's mind.  'Yes' was a lie, 'no' too scary for the kids, no matter how true..."I've been worse,"  he finally answered, opening his eyes to find Ayaas crouched beside him.

"You look awful," the boy said, sounding scared and impressed at the same time.   "Do you want me to help you up?"

Peter thought about how much it would hurt to raise his body to a sitting position, but staying sprawled on the floor didn't give him or the kids much confidence.  Besides, the hard wood was uncomfortable.  "Okay," he said finally, "If you can help me sit up, I think I'll feel better."

Ayaas had a lot more strength in his wiry little body than Peter would have thought possible.  Following Peter's directions, he soon had the detective propped up against a wall, one knee bent.  Peter was sweating heavily, and spots were dancing before his eyes, but he was sitting.

Brown eyes wide with dismay; Ayaas squatted in front of him.  "Peter?  Did I make it worse?"  He placed one hand on the detective's propped up knee and shook.  "Peter?  Don't leave us."

Peter struggled to remain conscious. He opened his eyes to see Ayaas holding Sophie by the hand.  "She's scared," the boy said.

Sophie shook her head.  "That's not it," she said, not looking at Peter.

<I am really too tired for this,> Peter thought wearily.  Wishing his hands were free, he nodded for Sophie to sit.  "What's wrong?" he asked gently.
Sophie mumbled something.  Peter couldn't hear it, but he understood anyway.
"You're a little girl," he said softly, "There was absolutely nothing you could have done."

"Ayaas went for help!" she said, tears glittering on her lashes.

"They couldn't see Ayaas.  If you'd been on that side of the attic, I'm sure you would have gone for help too."

"You think I would have?"

Peter nodded.  The movement made his head swim.  He closed his eyes.

Sophie smiled at him, then scrambled to her feet.  When Peter opened his eyes a few moments later, she was standing behind Ayaas, a towel in her hand.  "Your face is all...bloody," she said, her voice catching.  "Can I wash it off?"  Peter inclined his head, using the minimum amount of energy to answer.  Carefully, the girl brushed the cloth over his face, taking away blood and grime.  Ayaas watched, pointing out spots Sophie missed.

Both children were yawning, despite their fears.  Peter realized that it must be well past midnight; at a guess, he would put their regular bedtime at eight, nine at the latest.  "Why don't you two get some sleep?" he suggested, thinking they would go nap on one of the abandoned mattresses.  Instead, they curled up, one on either side of him.  They were asleep in minutes.
Peter sat in the silent attic and waited.

***********************

Dave found them that way in the morning.  All three were asleep; the young man still propped up against a wall, the children half on him, half on the floor.   Peter's face, under a variety of bruises and cuts, was drawn with pain, his breathing ragged.  Ayaas and Sophie had their heads resting in his lap; their bodies curled up against him like puppies trying to stay warm.  Dave snapped two polaroids before the sound of the camera shutter woke the detective.

Peter's first instinct was to lunge at the stranger snapping his picture, but the kids were still laying across his lower body, and his bound arms protested the involuntary tensing of muscles.  He gritted his teeth as a wave of agony swept over him, his body's reaction to the restricted movement and treatment it had received yesterday.

Ayaas yawned and stretched, oblivious to Dave, still holding the camera.  Sophie froze, her opening eyes taking in Peter's expression.  Quickly rolling to her hands and knees, she scooted around to face the danger across the room.

Dave laughed and snapped another picture.  He picked up the three developing prints and waved them in the air.  "Proof you're still alive," he explained, "for the ransom demand."

Ayaas stopped in mid-stretch, finally realizing the bodyguard was in the attic with them.  "Are you going to get us some breakfast?"  he asked, yawning.  "Because I'm hungry.  I usually like cereal, but bagels would be okay."

Dave's eyebrows rose as he stared at the boy.  Ayaas stood and put his fists on his hips.  "I haven't eaten since lunch yesterday," he reminded the burly man, "and neither has Sophie.  You made us miss dinner."

"I'll see what I can do," Dave said, shaking his head at the kid's audacity.  He snapped one more picture and left.

Peter looked in amazement at the boy standing in front of him.  "I'm going to hire you for all my hostage negotiations," he said, suddenly feeling more optimistic.  Ayaas just grinned.

********

Dave threw the photos on the table in front of Pearce and Chan.  Vito was across the kitchen frying bacon.  "The little squirt asked for breakfast," he said with amusement.

"They don't get breakfast," Pearce said immediately.

The other three men looked at him.  "They're just little kids," Vito said, "They need to eat."

Pearce scowled as he picked up the pictures.  "Oh, all right," he said with irritation, "go ahead and bring them something to eat."  He threw the photos one by one on the table.  "These are fine.  Deliver them to the station this morning.  Do you have the ransom note?"  he asked Chan.

"Right here," Chan pulled an envelope out of his inside suit pocket.  He picked up the photos and dropped them in with the note.  "I'll see that it gets on the right desk personally."

Pearce grunted.  "No, I want you to stay here and watch our guests.  Dave will deliver the envelope."

Chan's face tightened momentarily, then relaxed.  "I have some errands to run," he stated, "I don't mind going."

Pouring his third cup of coffee, Pearce glared at the taller man.  "I want you here.  I need to go out, and I don't want Vito here alone."

"Hey, I don't mind staying boss," Dave said, looking up from the bagels he was slicing.  "Do you think kids like peanut butter or cream cheese?" he asked the room in general.

"I mind."  Pearce said through clenched teeth. "I am the person who hired you, and you will follow my orders.  Dave is delivering the note; Chan and Vito will stay here.  I will be gone for a couple hours.  Is this clear?"
Vito and Dave shrugged.  "Okay with me," Vito said.

Chan lifted his hands.  "You're the boss," he said easily.  "I can do my errands later."
************
 

*Part 21*

"Chief, Sandra Mason wants to talk to you."  Sergeant Broderick said, interrupting Strenlich's meeting with Kermit, Caine and Skalany.  Maps were spread out on the table, along with printouts about the properties Pearce had owned.

Strenlich looked disgusted.  "I don't want to talk to that..." he looked over at Caine and finished, "...vulture.  Send her downtown for the official press release with the rest of the reporters.  We're busy here."

Broderick held his ground.  "Uh, Chief, I think you're gonna want to see what she's got."
 

Sandra Mason looked uncomfortable perched on the edge of a chair in the interrogation room.  From their positions around the table, Peter's colleagues studied her.  "The envelope was left at the reception desk.  Nobody saw who left it.  It sat on the desk for an hour before anyone gave it to me.  When I opened it..." she shrugged, "I knew I couldn't just put it on the air.  I brought it over here."

"I bet it had nothing to do with the fact that the city would sue the pants off her for printing an inaccurate story," Kermit said sarcastically, in an aside to Skalany.  "Especially after the last little fiasco, when she got that warning from the legal department."

"Not to mention the lawsuit the kids' parents would hit her with," she whispered back, crossing her arms.

"Thank you, Ms. Mason," Strenlich said, dismissively.  "We'll handle it from here."

The reporter bristled.  "Now listen, detective.  I could have put the ransom note and the pictures on the air without telling you.  I think I deserve to get this story."  Pulling out a tape recorder, the woman pressed 'record' and looked expectantly at the detectives surrounding her.  "What is Detective Caine mixed up in this time?  Does this have anything to do with the kidnapping in Rosedale yesterday?  Do you know..."

She broke off as the Chief's finger hit the 'stop' button. With a toss of her well-coiffed head, she looked around the ring of studiously blank faces.  "If you don't want to give me any information, I will bring the photos and the ransom note to the public with our next broadcast."

"Ms. Mason," Kermit said smoothly, "We're a little pressed for time right now.  When the department is able to release information, we will let you know."  His voice rose, "Until then, you can take your tape recorder back to Channel 3 and..."

"Wait to hear from us," Skalany said, jumping in to finish Kermit's sentence, if not his thought.  "We really do appreciate your help."  Mary Margaret smiled with fake sincerity at the reporter as she lead her to the door and pushed her out of the room.  After the other woman was gone, Skalany locked the door and returned to the table.

"You do know she has copies," Skalany said.  "Even if her motives were altruistic, which I very much doubt, she is a reporter. There is no way she handed over the photos or the note without making backups for her next  Action Newsbreak."

"Already on it," Kermit said, on the phone.  "Broderick?  See that Ms. Mason is detained for a couple hours....I don't know, public nuisance is probably too accurate...parking tickets?....Thanks."  With a grin, Kermit hung up.  "Sandra won't be sharing anything with the city for a couple hours."

He returned to the table, where Strenlich and Caine were staring at the photos, spread out on the table.  "Damn it," Strenlich said heavily.  "Peter looks like hell--and although the kids don't look hurt, who knows what this is doing to them."  It was obvious from his expression he was thinking of his own daughters.

Mary Margaret sighed.  "At least we know they're alive."

There was an awkward moment of silence.  "Caine, you've been very quiet," Strenlich said gruffly.  "Do these pictures or the ransom demand tell you anything?"

The priest closed his eyes.  One hand hovered over the surface of a photo, almost touching it.  "I still cannot contact my son.  These pictures tell me only that Peter is...hurt."  Worry and fear glimmered deep in the father's being.

"Yeah, they definitely tell us that," Kermit said, scowling at the tight mouth and expressive eyes.  "And yes, they also tell us he's alive, and so are the kids.  They just don't say where."

Skalany picked up a photo and studied it.  "You know, this background looks like an attic.  See how the roof slopes over Peter's head?  And all the beams are still exposed, but they don't look new; they're dusty.  I think we're looking for something residential."

"I think you're right," Strenlich said after a minute.  "Kermit, how many of those places on your list are homes?"

"Twelve," Kermit answered, already pulling those information sheets.  "If we split up, we can cover them faster."  He handed six of the sheets to Skalany.  "Frank, you take Mary Margaret, I'll take Caine."  Before he had finished the sentence, he was out the door, followed by the troubled father.

Strenlich looked after the departing detective.  "I'll get right on that, chief," he said sarcastically.

"He's just worried, Chief," Mary Margaret said, grabbing her jacket.  "Don't take it personally."

"We're all worried, Detective Skalany."  Strenlich scowled as he got his own jacket.  "Somehow, that seems to be a side effect of working with Peter Caine."

*****************

*Part 22*

Chan looked at Vito.  "Are you going to bring them breakfast, or not?"  he asked, nodding towards the sliced bagels lying on the counter.  Dave had finished spreading the bagels with peanut butter and cream cheese prior to his abrupt departure with Pearce.  Chan had waited for Vito to deliver the food, but the other man had decided to wash dishes and then sat down to read the newspaper.

Vito dragged his attention away from the sports section.  "What?"

"Breakfast.  Are you going to bring it up?" Chan repeated.  Talking to Vito was frequently like talking to a particularly thick brick wall.

"Oh.  I forgot."

Chan raised one eyebrow.  "Yes, it can be difficult to think about more than one thing at a time."  Vito muttered agreement and returned to his newspaper.  Chan waited.  Vito turned to the comics section.

"I'll do it," Chan finally offered, rising lazily to his feet.  Vito grunted, not looking up.  Taking this as agreement, Chan tucked some bananas under one arm, picked up the plate of bagels, and pulled a container of milk out of the refrigerator.  Vito read.
 

After one brief stop, Chan headed upstairs.  At the attic door, he stopped to listen.  He could hear voices, but not words.  Unlocking the deadbolt, he set the food on the stairs and stepped in.  The voices stopped.  He locked the door behind him and climbed.

Reaching the top, he was greeted by three silent figures.  Peter was on his feet, standing in front of the children. The heroic gesture was slightly marred by Peter's inability to stand steady.  Ayaas was trying to get around him; Sophie was bracing him from behind.  All three glared at the new arrival.  "Oh, it's you." Sophie said flatly, moving to Peter's side.

For what may have been the first time in his life, Chan didn't know what to say. "Sophie..." Regret and worry and fear were all in the name.  He put down the food and reached out one hand.

"What?  Are you going to say you're sorry?"  Sophie asked, backing away, her voice shaking.  Turning her back on her uncle she wrapped her arms around her stomach and leaned into Peter, who staggered a bit then regained his balance.  If he had a hand free, he would have wrapped it around the girl's shoulders.

Ayaas took a bagel off the plate and offered it to Peter, who shook his head.  The boy took a bite and started chewing, looking from one man to the other.  He looked like a spectator at a tennis match.

Peter had relaxed when he realized their visitor wasn't Pearce.  He was almost positive that Chan wouldn't do anything too nasty in front of his niece.  He was even starting to hope that the other man might be on their side.  Something had certainly caused him to interfere in the beating earlier.

"Sophie, I *am* sorry." Chan offered gently, touching her hair.  She pulled her head away.  Chan sighed.  "This wasn't supposed to happen."

Peter looked at the girl, stubbornly ignoring her uncle, and decided to jump in.  "But it did happen," he said, anger coloring his voice.  "So, what are you going to do about it, Chan?"

The old, cynical Chan took over from the worried uncle, as Chan looked Peter over from the battered face to the cuffed hands.  "You don't appear to be in any condition to challenge me, Peter," he said, raising one eyebrow.

Peter snorted.  "And whose fault is that?"  No, there was no time for trading barbs.  He pushed his anger down and concentrated on the worried look the other had when he had first seen Sophie.  "Look Chan, you have to get the kids out of here."  Desperately, he turned over arguments in his mind; there had to be something he could say that would convince Chan to turn on his employer and get the kids out of here...but his mind was blank.  What could he possibly say that Chan would hear?

In the end, he resorted to the truth.  "You know Pearce is crazy...obsessed," he pointed out, his voice intense.  "He wants me to pay for taking his daughter away from him.  Even if he asks for a ransom, once he figures out he can use the kids to get to me, he'll do that...and he will figure it out.  When that happens, he won't let them walk out of here."

Peter felt Sophie's entire body tense.  Ayaas stopped eating his second bagel and turned worried eyes to Peter.  Immediately, the detective regretted the words that had just spilled from his mouth.  <Shit, I must be in worse shape than I thought,> he thought wearily, <to make such a stupid mistake.>

"I'm sorry," he said, speaking to Ayaas and Sophie, ignoring Chan.  "It's not...you shouldn't...I didn't mean...." He couldn't look at either child.  His stammered words trailed off.  Sophie squeezed one numb hand as he closed his eyes.

Ayaas turned to Chan.  "Is Peter right?"  he demanded.  "He's not going to let us go?"  Sophie reached out her other hand to him, presenting her uncle with a united group.

Chan stood silent, ignoring the boy, ignoring his niece, focused on Peter.  "So what do you want me to do?" he asked in his normal sardonic manner.

"Get the kids out of here."  Peter said, his opened eyes filling with renewed hope.  Chan blinked at the full force of his gaze.  "I want them safe, away from Pearce."

"Don't you want to get out of here as well?" Chan asked after a moment's silence.

Peter shrugged.  "I didn't think you cared, Chan" he said sarcastically. Thinking he had nothing to lose, he continued. "But since you ask, yeah, I'd love to get out of here too."

Chan grinned, making him look years younger.  "Good, because there's a three-for-one hostage sale today."  He pulled a handcuff key out of his pocket and motioned for Peter to turn around.

"All right!" Ayaas cheered.  Sophie turned to watch her uncle; her eyes lighting up with renewed faith.

Peter winced as his hands were freed, rubbing his wrists and slowly moving his arms around, working out the kinks.  "Why?" he asked, studying Chan's face.

The other man shrugged.  "Why not?  I don't believe in torture, and Pearce ...does.  I'm a little tired of all my employers turning out to be certifiable.  Besides," he nodded towards Sophie.  "I think it may be time for a new outlook on life."

*********************

*Part 23*

"So, what's next?" Ayaas asked, watching impatiently as Peter stretched, gingerly trying relieve pained muscles.  He was ready for some action-his stomach wasn't growling anymore, Peter was free, Sophie was...well, she wasn't smiling, but she didn't look like she was going to burst into tears anymore...and he really wanted to get out of this place.

Chan cocked his head.  "We run like hell?"

All three former captives looked at their rescuer with various degrees of disbelief and disappointment. "You don't have a plan?"  Peter demanded, putting all their thoughts into words.

Chan studied their faces.  "This was kind of a spur-of-the-moment decision," he explained with exaggerated patience.  "I didn't really have time yet to come up with a plan."

"Chan..."  Peter's voice trailed off as he ran a hand through his hair.  "How many people downstairs?"

"Just one.  Pearce and Dave left to deliver the ransom note."  Chan pursed his lips and looked thoughtful.  "Pearce said something about an errand, but I'm not sure if they were doing anything else.  That was about an hour ago..."

"So they could be back any minute."  Peter's voice was sharp.  He tried to relax as he caught the worried look that passed between Sophie and Ayaas, silently watching the interaction between two adults.

"Or not until tonight," Chan said, oblivious to the children's nervousness.  "Either way, the sooner we get moving, the better.  Oh, I suppose you might like this."  He pulled a bulky shape out of his pocket, and then handed Peter his Baretta, butt first.

There was a tense moment as Peter's hand wrapped around the grip. The gun was pointed directly at Chan; their eyes met.  Memories flashed through Peter's mind--Chan standing beside Tan as he dangled helplessly in front of them. Chan shooting him in the shoulder. Chan saving Maya. Chan slipping away on Li Sung's island with a quick 'thanks bro'.

Peter blinked and saw his memories reflected back at him.  Chan's face was unreadable.  With a grunt, the detective dropped his gaze to the Baretta; he checked the clip.  "I thought this was spur-of-the-moment?" he asked, tucking the gun into the waistband of his jeans.

"It was a long moment," Chan explained, turning away.

He took out a pencil and a scrap of paper from a different pocket, and started drawing a map.  "Okay, Vito was settled in the kitchen when I came up here, I don't think he'll be moving for awhile.  The best way out of here is to take the stairs down two flights to the front door."  Reaching over to Ayaas, he tapped his shoulder.  "Your little friend here knows the way.  We'll go left after we get outside and head for the garage.  There's a blue van in the first bay, the doors should be unlocked."

Looking Peter over, he grimaced.  "You're still in pretty bad shape, Caine. I'll go first, the kids will follow me, and you'll bring up the rear.  Think you can keep up?"

"Just try to stop me," Peter said grimly.

"If anything happens, I'll help you," Ayaas volunteered.  "I'm strong."  His dark eyes shone with excitement.

Peter reflected that, despite what they had seen in the past 24 hours, the kids had no idea of how bad things could get.  He reached over and shook Ayaas gently.  "If anything happens to me," he said sternly, "You just follow Chan and get out of here.  I can take care of myself."  He looked at Sophie.  "That goes for you, too."

Ayaas rolled his eyes at Sophie.  "Okay, okay, we'll get out."

Peter didn't trust the boy's too-innocent expression.  He'd seen it too often...in the mirror.  "Promise me."

With a sigh, Ayaas promised.

"You promise too," Peter demanded, turning to Sophie.

"I promise," Sophie said softly.  Peter nodded, satisfied.

"I guess I don't have to worry about you coming back for me," he said lightly, looking at Chan.  He almost missed the flicker of regret that passed over the other man's face.

"No." Chan agreed with only the slightest hesitation, "I'm not one for risking my neck.  Besides, you're going to keep up, remember?"

"Right."  Peter agreed. Gun in hand, he nodded to Chan.  "Ready?"

"I need a minute," Chan stated abruptly, "with my niece."

Sophie appeared uncomfortable as Peter and Ayaas looked at her.  "Okay," she agreed, ducking her head.  Peter and Ayaas moved away to give them a bit of privacy, but Peter strained to hear the conversation, still not...quite...trusting his old enemy.
 

Chan crouched down to her level.  "Sophie..." he hesitated, then put one hand under her chin, raising her face until he could see her eyes.  "Sophie, I hope you know that I would never deliberately hurt you."

"You do hurt other people though," she said, meeting his eyes.

He shook his head, wondering why he was trying to justify himself.  "I try not to.  I just do my job."

Sophie pushed his hand away and glared at him.  "Your *job* hurts people," she stated, pointing out what was, to her, so obvious.  "Peter said you shot him.  You work with that ugly man who kidnaps kids and beats up guys and you think you're not hurting people?"  Her voice shook.  "Do Momma and Daddy know what your job is?"

"No."  Chan said, knowing that his sister wouldn't let him near her children if she had any idea what he did.

"You can't tell them what you do, can you?" Sophie asked, studying him.  The look on his face may have been enough of an answer, because Sophie didn't wait.  "I'm going to tell them," she announced.  "because I think you need to find a better job.  Maybe they can help you."

"Maybe they can," Chan said, reaching out to brush back her hair.  "But for now, I need you to believe that I will get you back home."

Tilting her head, she looked at him somberly.  "I already knew that," she said,  "But you need to promise you'll get Ayaas and Peter out, too."

Chan looked at the determined face.  "I will, I promise."  The beaming smile that spread across her face made him feel almost as good as the arms suddenly wrapped around his neck in a fierce hug.

"Uncle," she whispered in his ear.  "I want to go home now."

He hugged her back wordlessly, amazed at the trust she still placed in him.
 

"Let's go."   Chan unlocked the door and peeked into the hall.

Ayaas stifled a nervous giggle as he remembered doing the same thing hours before.  Sophie was clutching his arm tightly as they followed her uncle down the stairs.  "Let go," he whispered, pointing to her hands.  When she shook her head, he sighed and took her hand instead.  "It'll make it easier to move around," he said.

"Shhh."  Peter's hushed voice was barely audible.

Chan turned back.  "Come on," he said, slipping out through the door.  Sophie followed, pulling Ayaas.  Peter was last, carefully closing the door without a sound.  They made it down the first flight of stairs and were in the middle of the second flight, when there was the sound of key in a lock, and the front door began to open.
****************
 

*Part 24*

Kermit cursed as his cell phone rang.  With one hand on the wheel, he reached the other into his jacket, searching for the source of the annoying noise.  "Griffin," he growled, finally flipping it open.

Mary Margaret's voice filled his ear.  "We've checked out the two houses closest to the city."  She sounded discouraged as she reported; "We didn't find any trace of Peter or Pearce.  We're heading to the next place.  Did you have any luck?"

Kermit sighed, thinking of the two empty houses behind them.  "No.  We've almost reached our third destination."

"How's Caine?"

As Kermit glanced over at the priest, Caine nodded.  "Tell Mary Margaret I am well."  His face was serene.  "I am confident we shall find my son."  Conviction rang in his tone, and Kermit realized that he looked calmer and somehow...focused.

The ex-mercenary's gaze sharpened as he ignored Skalany, still waiting for an answer.  "Do you...Is there something new?" he asked, suddenly alert to the other man's change in mood.

Caine closed his eyes and looked inward.  "Peter still does not know where he is, yet an element of...hope has strengthened his spirit.  I believe something positive will happen."

Kermit turned his eyes back to the road.  "Skalany, nothing new, but Caine thinks something is going on.  Look, we'll call you back after we check out this place."

"Make sure you do."  Mary Margaret hung up.

Pulling the car to a halt beside a neglected old house with a "For Sale" sign stuck haphazardly into the front lawn, Kermit rubbed the back of his neck with one hand.  "Do you get any sense of Peter here?"

"No." Caine said, shaking his head.  He opened the car door.  "But we must still go inside.  There may be a...clue?...to the whereabouts of Pearce."

"Right." Kermit said, following.  When his phone rang again, he scowled.  "Skalany?" he asked, "I said we'd call you back after..." his voice trailed off as he realized that the voice coming out of the phone did not belong to the dark-haired detective.

"Kermit," Broderick's voice was unusually hesitant, "I have a call on the other line.  Guy wants to speak to you."

"I'm busy Sergeant," Kermit snapped.  "Can't it wait?"

"Not if the caller is who he says he is," Broderick replied.

Kermit let out a wordless growl.  "Whatever that means.  Okay, put the call through."

*****************

The escapees froze on the stairs as the opening door swung towards them.  The voices of two men could be heard arguing.  "Oh no," Ayaas breathed.  In the small square windows beside the door, they could see the shapes of two men; Pearce and Dave.

With a curse, Chan moved down half a flight of stairs and hit the door with his shoulder; his weight slamming it closed.  Ignoring the shout from the other side, he leaned against the door as he pushed an ornamental bolt into place.  "That should hold them a few minutes," he muttered, also hooking a chain.  "Come on," he said, gesturing towards the others, "There's been a slight change of plans."

Peter's gun was in his hand as he and the children followed Chan through a formal dining room.  "What are we going to do?" Sophie asked, her voice high with fright.  Ayaas glanced over at her-her face was pale and her eyes wide.  He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror over the buffet-he looked the same way.

"Chan," Peter demanded, keeping his voice low, "Where are you going?"

Chan stopped at the door to the next room.  "To the garage, through the kitchen.  This..." he motioned to the door, "is the kitchen.  Vito is probably still in there.  Follow me and don't stop."  Sophie and Ayaas nodded automatically, their hands tightly clenched.

Throwing the door open, Chan strode into the room.  A quick look around told him that Vito had remained in the same spot at the table, tilted back in a kitchen chair, still reading the paper.

Peter threw a grim look over his shoulder as noises from the front hall suggested someone had broken a window.  "Go!" he commanded.

Looking up, Vito threw the newpaper to the side.  Without hesitation, Chan put his hands under the edge of the table and pushed, flipping it over.  The edge of the table hit Vito, causing him to crash backwards with a startled shout.  The falling table landed over him, and he lay still.

"I guess his head wasn't as hard as I thought," Chan said.  Without stopping, he led his troops through the far door and into the garage.  "Everyone in," he said, opening the van door.  The man walked around the back of the van while Ayaas and Sophie scrambled in through the open door.  They buckled themselves in.

Peter tucked his gun away and stopped to slip a trash barrel under the knob of the closed kitchen door. Chan jumped into the driver's seat and started the engine.  Pressing a button on the visor, he opened the automatic garage door.  Sophie screamed when she saw Dave standing there, waiting.

"Peter!" Ayaas cried.  "Hurry!"

Peter sprinted for the open van door as Chan stepped on the gas, revving the engine.  Ayaas and Sophie gasped in horror as they watched Dave tackle the detective and knock him away from the van and onto the cement floor.  Peter cried out and tried to regain his footing.  The burly bodyguard scrambled, pinning Peter to the floor.

"Now would be a very good time for the cavalry to arrive," Chan muttered, staring down the driveway.  Ayaas could have sworn he was looking for something.

"Peter!"  Sophie wailed.  "Come on!"

Peter heaved, but the bigger man outweighed him by at least fifty pounds, and Peter was still suffering from the earlier beating.  He could not dislodge the weight grinding him into the cement.  He reached out a hand to his gun, knocked just out of reach by the tackle; his fingers touched it...and Dave reached over to push it away.  Peter's eyes met Chan's in a wordless message.

"Shut the door," Chan ordered calmly, "We're getting out of here."  He started down the driveway, leaving tracks across the lawn as he drove around a car parked in the driveway by the front door.

"No!"  Ayaas shouted, horror filling his eyes.  He struggled to remove his seatbelt with frozen fingers.  "We can't leave Peter."

"He told you to get out, no matter what," Chan reminded the boy tensely.  "He doesn't want you to risk yourself going back for him."

"Stop!" Ayaas begged.  He released the seatbelt and grabbed Chan's arm.  "We have to go back."

"Look, Kid," Chan said, sounding sympathetic.  "I need to get you out of here.  You promised Peter you'd get away.  That's what he wants, remember?"

"You didn't promise."  Sophie's voice was eerily calm.

"What?"  Chan's hands tightened their grip on the steering wheel.

"You didn't promise."  Sophie repeated.  "Ayaas and I promised not to go back.  You didn't.  Please Uncle, please go back and get Peter before something awful happens to him."

Chan shook his head as he approached high iron gates guarding the exit to the road.  "Sophie, I can't."

"You owe it to him to try," Sophie said firmly, sounding much older than her years.

Her uncle pressed the button on the remote control to open the gates.  Nothing happened.  The van screeched to an abrupt halt.

"You're going back?" Ayaas asked hopefully.

Ignoring him, Chan pressed the button again.  The gates remained closed.  He looked at the twelve-foot high brick wall on either side that he knew encircled the estate.  "Damnit!  He deactivated the gates."  He pushed Ayaas back.  "Get into the seat, Kid, and buckle up."

Backing up a few feet, then aiming the van at the motionless gates, Chan grinned.  "I've always wanted to try this."  There was a crash as metal met metal, then a grinding as the momentum of the van forced the gates apart.  Somewhere nearby, an alarm started to ring.  The grinding sound of metal hurt their ears as the van slowly advanced.  Halfway through, it shuddered to a halt.  Stepping on the gas caused nothing but the sound of spinning tires.

With the van wedged between the gates, Chan jumped out.  "Come on."  Sophie looked at Ayaas, and they both released their seatbelts and climbed into the front seat.  Chan pulled them out the driver's door.  Leading them into the street, he looked around.  The property they had just left filled one side of the road. On the other side of the road were new houses, just as fancy as the one they had left, but plopped down in the middle of one-acre lots.

Without a word, Chan led them to the only house with a basketball hoop and a big wheel in the front yard.  Sophie and Ayaas watched with round eyes as he rang the bell.  When no one answered, he broke the window beside the front door and reached in to unlock and open it.  A second alarm began to ring, competing with the one across the street.  Chan opened the door and pushed the two children inside.

"It appears that no one is home," he said lightly.  "The cops should be coming soon.  You two stay right here. Hide until you see the police."

"Where are you going?"  Ayaas asked anxiously.

With a wry glance back as his niece, Chan said, "It seems I have some unfinished business to take care of."

*******************
 

*Part 25*

Peter tried to get air into his lungs.  It wasn't easy with a knee in the center of his back, pushing him into the cement.  An arm pressed against his shoulders, keeping him firmly pinned.  With a mental sigh, he stopped trying to shove the weight off and relaxed.  Maybe a better opportunity would come later.

"That's much better," a voice said from above.

Turning his head to the side, Peter tried to look up.  A clatter drew his attention, and the door he had wedged closed with the trashcan suddenly flew open.  Trash spilled down the stairs as Pearce stumbled through.  Peter closed his eyes.  <Damn,> he thought tiredly.

Pearce regained his balance and moved deliberately towards the figure on the ground.  "What happened?  Where are the kids?  Where's Chan?" he demanded, his voice escalating with each question.

Dave shrugged.  "Chan and the kids got in the van and drove away.  I tackled the cop just as he was about to jump in."

"They couldn't have gone very far," Pearce growled, kicking the trashcan, "I locked the gates."  Somewhere nearby, an alarm bell began to ring.
Vito walked in from the kitchen, propped up by a fourth man Peter hadn't seen before.  "Hey Boss, the gate alarm is going off!  What's going on?"

Pearce's face turned red.  "Chan got the gates open, you idiot.  What did you think?"  He reached down, grabbed Peter's hair and yanked his head back.  "Where were you going?"  His face was so close Peter could see the blue veins in his temple throbbing.

Peter tried to decide how to respond.  He knew he was taking too long when Pearce let go of the hair and buried his boot in Peter's ribs.  Gasping with the pain, he couldn't answer.  He had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach as Dave grabbed his elbow and pulled his arm away from his body.  The boot was set back down on his hand. "Where. Were. You. Going?"  With each word, Pearce pressed a little harder, until Peter was sure that the bones in his hand were snapping.

Sheer stubborness kept his mouth closed.

Pearce let up and squatted beside him.  "Did he tell you he was going to help you escape?" the man asked with an evil smile.  "He won't.  He just wanted the ransom for himself.  From what I understand, he might have wanted you to himself too.  You make an awful lot of enemies for one man, Caine."  He waited; Peter met his eyes and refused to answer.  "Oh, I'm going to have fun breaking you," he mused to himself, patting Peter's head.

The unnamed man cleared his throat.  "Was one of the kids a little Chinese girl?"

"What if it was?" Pearce replied, looking up impatiently.

Nervously, the man looked away.  "When we first saw the kids, I went into the room with Chan...I think she was related to him," he blurted out.

Pearce stood, his attention diverted from his game with the detective.  "You didn't think that was important enough to tell me?" he asked ominously.

"I thought it was part of the plan," the man objected.  "I would have said something, but I was taking those idiot kidnappers we hired to the airport.  Chan sent me, he said everything was all prearranged..."

"I'll deal with you later," Pearce snapped.  "Related, huh?  So, Chan was probably taking them to the police."  He looked up at the other men.  They looked uneasily back at him.  "Well, get your stuff.  It's time to move on."

"What about him?" Dave asked, gesturing towards Peter.

Pearce threw him a scornful look.  "We're taking him too.  I want something to show for all of this.  If I don't get the money to find my daughter, at least I can have a little revenge for the man who stole her from me."

Vito pulled the cloth from his head and studied the blood staining it.  "Pearce, without the kids, there's no money, and no reason to stick together. Let's just call it quits and get the hell out of here."

"I hired you to do a job!"

"The job is over!" Vito growled.

Peter's eyes followed the men as they argued.  If he could wait until they were distracted... He forced his body to relax, waiting for the right moment.  It came sooner than he expected.

"Well, well, well," an amused voice drawled from the garage opening.  "Could it be a falling out among thieves?" Dave sat back, his arm dropped and the pressure of his knee eased as he turned to squint at the figure outlined in the light. Chan stood there, propped against the wall, a smirk on his face.

With the attention of the room removed from him, Peter made the most of the opportunity.  With a quick move, he flipped Dave and rolled out from under the surprised man. A scissors sweep brought the burly thug to the floor; the air left his lungs with a grunt.

Peter staggered to his feet and stood, ready for battle.  Chan might have come back for him, but three men still stood between him and the doorway.  Vito looked too concerned with the still bleeding head wound to be interested in fighting, but the new guy stood braced for a fight.  Pearce let out a wordless yell of outrage and charged.

************
 

*Part 26*

The ringing alarm was deafening.  Ayaas and Sophie had to shout to be heard above it, so after a few minutes they stopped talking.  Nervously, they tiptoed through the deserted house, moving to a sofa in the living room.  There they crouched, looking out a picture window at the street.

The first few cars that went by slowed as they passed the house.  In the second one, Ayaas could see the woman in the passenger seat frantically dialing a number on her cell phone...but not one car stopped.  That ended when a bright green convertible pulled up in front of the crumpled van.  An unfamiliar man in sunglasses and a dark blue suit got out on the driver's side.

The man who stepped out of the passenger side was wearing a battered brown hat, a dusty jacket and had a pouch slung over one shoulder.  Sophie and Ayaas exchanged one look, and bounded towards the door.

"Caine!"  Ayaas yelled as they ran across the perfectly manicured yard.  The man with the sunglasses whirled around, his hand reaching for something in his jacket, but neither Ayaas nor Sophie noticed.

Sophie threw her arms around the priest, while Ayaas came to an abrupt halt in front of him.  "Boy, are we glad to see you!"  he said, grinning widely.  "How did you know where to find us?  Are you going to bring us home?  Where are the other kids?"  The stream of questions was never-ending, and the boy never seemed to take a breath.

Kermit looked at Caine.  "He talks more than someone else we know," he observed dryly.  The priest raised one eyebrow.

"Are you here to rescue Peter and my uncle?" Sophie asked.

Looking down at the girl, Caine nodded.  "We are.  This is...Kermit.  He is a detective who works with my son."

"You don't look like a detective," Ayaas said, looking him up and down.

"Kermit?  Like the frog?" Sophie asked, a tiny smile tugging her lips up.

"Hey, that frog stole my name," Kermit said with a grin.  Sophie giggled.

Caine smiled, and finished the introductions.  "This is Sophie and that is Ayaas," he told Kermit.  The detective nodded, even though he had already known their names.  Caine stepped back and let Kermit take over.

"So, what happened?  Where is Peter?" Kermit asked.  Ayaas and Sophie started talking at the same time.  "Wait," Kermit held up a hand, "One at a time.  You start."  He pointed at Ayaas.

Ayaas was eager to talk.  Information came tumbling from his lips; Sophie listened intently and added a few comments for clarification.  As they were telling the story of the crash through the iron gates, complete with hand motions and sound effects, a second unmarked car pulled up with two cruisers behind it.  While Strenlich directed the uniforms, Mary Margaret hurried over to join Kermit and the kids.

Mary Margaret smiled briefly at Sophie and Ayaas.  "We're glad to see you two safe and sound!"  She turned to Kermit.  "Strenlich has cars surrounding the block.  On his signal, we're going in."  She looked around.  "Uh, Kermit, where's Caine?"

Kermit's mouth tightened as he realized that the priest had slipped away as he got information from the children.  "Where do you think he is?" he answered with irritation.

"I think he's alone in there," Mary Margaret said, nodding towards the house, "Trying to rescue Peter.  So, you ready?"

Kermit looked at her, eyes unreadable behind the glasses.  "I was born ready."  He turned to Sophie and Ayaas.  "You two will stay with the officers.  Do what they tell you, and stay out of the way."

"But..." Ayaas started, as they were led to a cruiser, where Strenlich joined them.

"Where's Caine?"

"That seems to be the question of the day."  Mary Margaret said brightly.

Strenlich grunted.  "Of course it is," he said with resignation.  "Everybody's in place.  Let's do it."

"Yeah, let's go!" Ayaas said eagerly.  All the adults looked at him.

"You--stay."  Kermit said sternly, opening the back seat of the car, motioning for the kids to get in.  "Watch them," he warned the uniformed officer.

"I hate waiting," Ayaas sighed.  Sophie nodded.  They watched as Peter's co-workers left to rescue their friend.

*****

Peter made no effort to evade Pearce's mad rush, instead he let the man grab him, and used Pearce's momentum against him; rolling backwards, he threw Pearce over his head, ignoring the pain this caused his injured ribs and hand.  Pearce crashed into the back wall of the garage, scattering boxes that had been stacked there.   Quickly, Peter turned and patted down the stunned man for weapons, finding none.

Holding an arm against his ribs, Peter rose to his feet and looked around. Dave was struggling to get up.  Two steps brought Peter to his side; one kick sent the larger man back to the ground.  "Stay there."  Peter warned.

"Uh-Uh-Uh" He heard Chan say.  Peter looked over to see him holding a gun on Vito and the other man.  "Drop it Rob, nice and easy."  Vito's friend dropped a gun he had been retrieving from under his jacket.  Vito stood where he was, looking disgusted.

Chan scowled at Peter.  "Are you just going to stand there staring?  Come on, we're leaving."

Peter grinned with relief.  "I thought you weren't going to risk your neck."

"Yeah, so did I.  Sophie had other ideas.  Come on!"  Chan slowly backed out through the doorway, still holding his weapon on his former co-workers.

"Just a minute, I've got to find something."  Peter said, as Chan left the garage.  He knew his weapon had been just out of his reach on the floor.  He looked around, but didn't see any sign of the gun.

"Is this what you're looking for?"  There was an ominous click.  Peter swallowed, his throat suddenly very dry.   The cold metal of a gun barrel was pressed to his temple.

The gun was pulled back slightly to allow Peter to look at Pearce.  His breath caught as Pearce pointed the gun between his eyes; he stared down the barrel of his own Baretta. Behind the gun, Pearce looked at him, his eyes dark and glittering.  "I seem to have the upper hand again," Pearce said with a dangerous grin.  "So Detective, what are we going to do?"
*****************
 

*Part 27*

"Don't do it Pearce," Chan said from behind Peter.  If the detective hadn't been standing directly in the line of fire, he may have risked a shot.  But Peter was in the way, and a clear shot was impossible.

"Stay where you are, Chan," Peter warned, risking a glance backward over his shoulder.  Chan nodded once, his own weapon steadily trained on Rob and Vito, keeping them from interfering.  Peter turned back to Pearce, who had watched the exchange with visible anger.  Despite the outward display of emotion, the Beretta remained steady in his hands.

"Someone who didn't know better would think that you two were friends," he sneered, his eyes flicking from Peter to Chan.  "Was this some kind of setup from the start?"

"No, it wasn't," Peter said, hands raised.  "This...alliance...surprised me as much as it's surprised you."  He searched the face of the man holding his gun, looking for something besides anger; but fury was all that seemed to be driving the man.  Peter sighed.  "Look Pearce, just give me the gun.  You haven't killed anyone..." <yet,> his mind added.  "Don't do something you'll regret."

Pearce laughed, a harsh and painful sound.  "What I'll *regret* is not killing you when I have the chance."

"You shoot him, I shoot you."  Chan's voice was flat.  "I hit what I aim for...you *will* be dead.  Are you willing to sacrifice your life?"

"Since when did you join the forces of light, Chan?" Pearce jeered.

"Does it really matter?" his former associate replied.  "Drop the gun, Pearce."

Pearce ignored Chan, concentrating on Peter.  "Why did you do it?"

"Do what?"  Peter asked, his eye caught by a movement in the shadows.  "Get the kids out of here?  Join up with Chan?"

"Why did you take Diana away from me?  Whatever I did was for her.  I just wanted her to have everything."   The anger momentarily banished, Pearce's eyes were unfocused, his voice softer, as if he was speaking from somewhere far in the distance.

Peter took a deep breath, trying to assess the situation correctly.  Pearce seemed distracted, thinking in the past, not the present...and he recognized the moving shadow.   The detective took a cautious step forward and spoke softly; "I'm sorry about your daughter.  Maybe I can help you find her again."  He kept his voice even and non-threatening, his arms out to the sides.  "She can come see you, tell you why she left..." Every person in the garage seemed to be holding their breaths, watching the drama play out before them.

"No!" Pearce jumped back, and ended the spell.  He brought the gun up, steadying it with both hands.  "Who are you trying to kid?" he asked, the self-pity in him replaced by something wilder and less sane.  "You're lying; you would say anything to save your life...but it's too late.  I've made my decision.  I'll see you in Hell, Peter Caine," he said maliciously, squeezing the trigger.

Peter dove sideways as a flying kick sent the Beretta up into the air.  As Pearce lost his grip on the gun, it flew out of his hands and fired harmlessly into the ceiling.  Peter looked up from the floor and watched his father step out of the shadows and send Pearce to the ground in a flurry of movement; Pearce groaned once, then sprawled across the cement floor, stunned.

The garage was silent.  Predictably, it was Peter who spoke first.

"Pop!"  Peter said thankfully, "Man, am I glad to see you!"

With a smile, his father offered him a hand. Peter climbed cautiously to his feet, once again clutching his ribs.  "I am happy to see you too, Peter."  Concern filled his face as he placed one warm hand on his son's cheek and surveyed the extent of the bruises and other damage on Peter's body.  "My son, you are...hurt?"

"Nah, it'll be all right, Pop,"  Peter said. He brushed himself off, wincing as he bent down to finally retrieve the Beretta.  Caine remained at his side, keeping him balanced.

"Did you know he was there?" Chan asked, sounding as relieved as Peter felt.

Caine looked over.  "He did."

"At the last minute, I did." Peter amended.  "Where did you come from?  Are you alone?" He tucked the gun into his jeans and wrapped his free arm around his father's shoulders in a hard hug.  "How did you find me?"

The elder Caine raised one eyebrow.  "Which question would you like me to answer first?"

"How about you tend the walking wounded and I answer the questions?"  a new voice asked, and Kermit strode into the garage, Mary Margaret behind him.  Strenlich stopped in the doorway beside Chan.  Kermit held the Desert Eagle on the prisoners as Mary Margaret handcuffed them.
**************

Part 28

Peter sighed with relief and relaxed against his father.  It wasn't that he thought that Chan, his father, and he couldn't handle four prisoners, but...it was nice to have backup.  Even better to have friends.  He watched as Skalany smiled at him before bending down to check on the still-unconscious Dave.  Kermit covered the handcuffed Vito and Rob, his emotions carefully concealed behind the sunglasses.  Strenlich made his way over to Pearce, sparing a minute to pat Peter on the back as he passed.  Peter grimaced at the touch, but quickly covered the involuntary movement.

"Good to see you in one piece, Pete," the Chief said gruffly.

A uniformed officer lifted the garage door and walked in to help take charge of their prisoners. Looking past him towards the street, Peter saw the flashing lights of several cruisers.

"How did you get here so quickly?" he asked.  There hadn't been enough time for the alarms to bring this many cars.

Kermit finished reading Vito his rights and tilted his head towards Chan.  "Got a phone call from your buddy." He answered shortly.  "You all right?"

Peter shrugged; wincing as he felt the pull of strained muscles and cracked ribs.  "I'll be fine."  He looked over at Chan, who was leaning against the wall, watching all the activity with a wary expression in his eyes.  "I thought it was a spur-of-the-moment rescue," he said, lifting his eyebrows.

Chan grinned crookedly.  "Well, like I said before, it was a long moment."

Kermit snorted as he watched the exchange.  "Yeah, long enough for him to somehow find my unlisted cell phone number and give me this address."  He glared at Chan.  "Someday we're going to have a little chat about your computer skills."

Chan looked...slightly...uneasy, but it didn't stop him from asking; "Did you find Sophie and the boy?  They were hiding inside one of the houses across the street."  He sounded concerned, something Kermit would never have believed if he hadn't heard it with his own ears.

Brusquely, the detective nodded.  "They're safe."

"Good," Chan said, relief filling his face.  Kermit watched as he turned towards Peter and his father.  There was an unreadable expression in Chan's eyes as he watched Caine attend to his son's needs.

"Sit, Peter." Peter protested unconvincingly as his father made him sit on a crate he had found.  "Drink this, my son," Caine said, holding a small glass bottle up to Peter's mouth.

Peter sniffed the liquid and made a face, but drank it.  "Ugh!" he sputtered as he wiped his mouth, "What was that?  It tasted even worse than it smelled."

"It will help to aid in your recovery."  Caine answered calmly, tucking the bottle back into the pouch.  He pulled out a jar of some kind of ointment and began spreading it on some of the visible bruises and cuts.  Peter squirmed, then relaxed as he felt warmth and welcome relief.  His father took his hand and manipulated it.  "There will be some bruising, but it is not broken," he announced.  Peter grinned lopsidedly.

As Kermit left for a moment to put Vito and Rob into a cruiser, Skalany came over to stand beside Caine.  She reached out and touched Peter's shoulder.  "Are you really okay, partner?  We're getting an ambulance for the big guy over there, we could have the EMTs look at you too."

"Pop can handle it, Skalany.  But thanks," Peter said, smiling at the dark-haired woman.

"Mary Margaret, how is Pearce?"  Caine asked, looking up from his ministrations and towards the figure still on the ground, Strenlich bending over him.

"He's complaining," Skalany said, making a face, "But there's no permanent damage.  Unfortunately."  They all watched as the Chief pulled the handcuffed man to his feet.

"Go on," Strenlich said.  Keeping a grip on his prisoner's arm, he pushed him towards the exit.  "You're going to take a little ride downtown."  Pearce tried to pull away, protesting, but he was no match for the burly ex-marine.
Until they reached Peter.

With a burst of pure adrenaline, Pearce pulled himself out of Strenlich's grasp and launched himself at Peter.  Head lowered; he drove into Peter, knocking him off the crate where he sat and onto the hard floor.  Peter gasped as Pearce landed on top of him, driving the air from his lungs.  Looking up through a pain-filled haze, Peter saw pure hatred filling his attacker's eyes.

"You think you've won again," Pearce raved, as Peter's friends grabbed the enraged man and pulled him off.  "You've taken everything from me.  It's not over, Detective.    A father's place is with his child, and you've taken mine away from me.  A father..."

"...Does not try to possess his child."  Caine finished, standing between his injured son and Pearce.  His face was stern.  "Peter did not take away your daughter.  You drove her away with your own actions."

"What do you know, old man?" Pearce sneered, trying to shrug off the combined grips of Strenlich and Kermit.

"Peter is my son.  We were ...apart...for many years.  He would not do that to another child, for any reason."  His gaze caught the other man's eyes.  "Your daughter made her own decision.  Perhaps it is time you looked at your actions and how they affected her life."

"No!" Pearce shouted, "I did nothing wrong."

Caine inclined his head.  "And yet, your child hides from you."  He turned his back on the man, reaching out to his son.

"Come on, Pearce," Strenlich growled; he and Kermit roughly dragged their protesting prisoner to a waiting squad car.

Skalany had her arm around Peter's shoulders, supporting him.  Caine's eyebrows rose when he observed Chan kneeling beside his son, checking him for new injuries.  "He says he's okay," Chan said doubtfully, moving away as he caught sight of the priest.

"Peter...does not always admit to injuries," Caine said, studying his child.  He bent down and laid one warm hand on his son's cheek.  Peter blinked.  "Thanks, Pop."

"You are welcome," said his father, lightly running his hands over his son's chest, he reassured himself that there were, indeed, no further injuries.  Thoughtfully, he observed Chan.

"What?" Chan asked, uncomfortable with the steady regard.

"Your concern does you credit." Caine said.

For once, Chan didn't know what to say.  Instead, he helped Caine get Peter to his feet.  "Let's get him in my car," Skalany said, when two small whirlwinds blew into the garage.

"Peter!"  Ayaas cried, charging.

"Peter!  Uncle!"  Sophie said, right behind him.  Both came to a sudden halt in front of the small group, staring at Peter, who was still leaning on his father.

Kermit walked up behind them.  "They needed the squad cars for the prisoners," he explained, looking Peter over carefully.  "We're taking the kids to the precinct."

"You're bleeding again," Ayaas said accusingly.

Chan jumped as he felt Sophie slip her small hand into his larger one.  "What happened?" she asked the detective, her voice hushed.  "Did that man hurt you again?"

Peter reached out and touched her cheek, unconsciously mimicking his father's earlier action.  "Sophie, I'm fine.  It was just a little...misunderstanding."  Two penetrating pairs of eyes studied his face, and Peter awkwardly changed the subject.  "So.  Are you two ready to go see your parents?"  Luckily, it worked.

"Definitely!" Ayaas said, nodding.

"Yes..." Sophie said slowly, "But can I ask a question?"  Peter nodded encouragingly, and she took a deep breath.  "Is my uncle under arrest?"

Peter and Kermit exchanged long looks.  "No," Peter finally said.  "But we do need him to come with us, okay?"

"Okay," Sophie agreed hesitantly.  "Can we go now?"  She shuddered as she looked around the garage.  "I don't like this place."

"Me neither," Peter said.  "Let's go home."

Ayaas rubbed his stomach.  "Can we get something to eat on the way?"  He looked around at the chuckles.  "What?" he asked.  "I'm hungry!"
 

*Part 29*

The precinct was crowded.  It seemed like there were too many bodies to fit comfortably.  Kermit, one hand firmly on Ayaas' shoulder, led their little group past the crowd of criminals, suspects and patrol officers, and into the detectives' area.  Peter's appearance caused a standing ovation from all present.  Blushing, he laughed and waved to his fans...and sighed with relief when Caine brought him over to his desk where he was able to catch his breath.

"You will come home with me tonight," his father said firmly, seeing the pain he was successfully hiding from the others.  "Your injuries must be tended."  He spoke as though he was sure that his son would object.

Peter felt only relief and love.  "Okay Pop.  We'll go soon."  He turned his attention to his computer and didn't see his father's eyebrows arching in surprise at his reasonable attitude.  Awkwardly, he leaned against his desk, trying to find a position that looked casual, yet hid the discomfort and pain he was feeling.

Sophie stood beside his desk, still holding Chan's hand.  Her eyes were wide as she took in all the activity in the station.  They grew wider as she saw the group of people Broderick led through the crowded room.  "Momma!  Daddy!"  Sophie shouted and darted across the room and threw herself into the arms of her parents.  As they embraced her, her eyes filled with tears of relief.

Ayaas looked up from the handcuffs he had taken from Kermit's desk and launched himself at the second couple.  "Dad!  Mom!"  His parents wrapped their arms around him, and from the center of the group hug, Ayaas's voice rose, telling them everything that had happened.

Peter smiled; his father wrapped an arm around him as they watched the reunions, and he leaned into the offered support.  He heard a groan and looked at Chan.  "What's the matter?" he asked the other man.

"Nothing," Chan said unconvincingly.  Peter just looked at him.  Chan rolled his eyes.  "Obviously, you don't have an older sister."

Peter's mouth was still open to reply, when Sophie's parents headed their way, Sophie tucked between them.  "Charles Eugene Chan!" Sophie's mother said sharply, "What *are* you doing here?  The police said you were involved, but I told them they must be mistaken, you couldn't be!"

"Hey, Sis," Charles Eugene Chan said uncomfortably.  "Uh, long time, no see..."

"Charlie Chan?" Peter and Kermit mouthed silently, their eyes meeting.  Behind Kermit, Skalany choked on a laugh.  Even Caine looked amused.
 

Two Weeks Later...

"So how's Sophie?" Peter asked, grabbing a beer to wash down the hamburger he'd just finished.

"She's fine," Virginia Li said with a smile.  "She's still talking about you, and she and Ayaas have become inseparable.  Everything seems to be back to normal."

"That's great, she's a great kid," Peter said sincerely.  "It was nice of you to invite all these people to the picnic," he added, looking around the yard.  Everyone from the precinct who wasn't on duty was present, along with Jessie and the other kids from that fateful day at the library, and all their families.

"I wanted to have a 'thank you' celebration for everyone," Virginia said, watching Sophie and Ayaas laughing as they played badminton against Anthony and Molly.  "We're just so happy Sophie's safe and sound at home."

Virginia smiled at someone behind him, and Peter knew his father was there.  "Hi Pop," he said, without turning.

"Peter," Caine acknowledged.  "This is a wonderful picnic, Virginia.  But where is...Chan?"

"Oh, my busy baby brother couldn't make it," Virginia said, making a face.  "He has a new job."  She laughed at the surprised expression on their faces.  "He still has to make a living!  He'll be staying with us; it's part of his probation...but your friend Kermit came by last weekend with a Mr. Rykker....  Charles will be working for him."

Oblivious to the reaction she had caused in her audience, she continued; "He'll be doing some travelling, but it was cleared with...well, whomever it needs to be cleared with."  Christina and Haley ran up for more food, so Peter and Caine wandered away as her attention was diverted.

"Chan and Rykker?"  Peter said, stunned.   "Now there's an interesting combination...  What do you suppose they're up to?"

Caine shrugged.  "I do not know.  But Rykker will be...good for Chan." Amused at Peter's skeptical look, he continued;  "He is a mercenary, but he has a code of ethics.  Perhaps Chan will learn that what he does is more important than the profit he makes."

"Maybe," Peter said doubtfully.  "But I guess I know now why Kermit couldn't make it to the party.  He didn't want to explain his connection to Rykker."

The father and son sat down on a corner of the lawn, watching the badminton game.  Across the yard, Ayaas got a point and ran over to "high five" with his father.  The connection and love between them was obvious.

Peter gazed at them thoughtfully.  "Pop," he said, "Pearce will probably be spending the next ten years or more in prison.  He wants to see his daughter, and Kermit knows where Diana is.  Do you think we should contact her?"

The priest studied the troubled face of his son.  "What do you think?" he asked gently.

Peter hesitated.  "I don't think so," he finally admitted.  "Diana and her mother left town; they were obviously scared of something. Pearce is..." he fumbled, trying to find a descriptive term.  Failing, he waved one expressive hand and continued; "...not father material.  But I know I have a biased outlook on that issue."  He looked sideways at Caine.

His father nodded.  "You have enjoyed the unconditional love of two fathers."  They sat in silence for a few moments before Caine continued.  "Peter, it is not your decision to make; it is Diana's.  She must know that the choice is available."

"Yeah, that's what I finally decided," Peter said running one hand through his hair with a sigh.  "That's why I booked a flight to Canada next week."

Caine smiled.  "Would you like some company?"

Peter reached over and hugged him.  "Yeah.  Thanks Pop."

"For flying with you?"

"Well, that too," Peter said with an embarrassed laugh, "...but mostly for being you."

"You are welcome, my son."

They sat together, enjoying each other's presence in comfortable silence...until Sophie and Ayaas came to drag them into a game of badminton.
 

The End!
 

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