A Father's Place

by Kelly W

*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 said, and disconnected.

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 flew down half a flight of stairs and hit the door with his shoulder; his weight slammed 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 newspaper 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. He walked around the back of the van while Ayaas and Sophie scrambled in through the open door and 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 the rising door revealed 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 effects of 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 said, her voice 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. "Sit back down, 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 one 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 stubbornness 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, then twisting one hand in the detective's hair. Eyes gleaming, he motioned to Dave; "Turn him over."

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

"What if one 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, ending up at 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. Briefly. I need to get in there and find Peter. 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, a second unmarked car pulled up with two cruisers behind it. While Strenlich directed the uniforms, Mary Margaret rushed over to 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, making a face.

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 colleagues.

"In a minute, I have 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 drew a line with the gun from his temple to the hollow of his throat and pressed there. 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 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 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. He knew that 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 in 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 his ribs for new bruises. "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 finally.

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, talking a mile a minute.

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 Virginia's 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 in comfortable silence...until Sophie and Ayaas came to drag them into a game of badminton.

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The End!