Unfounded Fears

Part 28

"Peter is here," Caine whispered so that only Paul could hear.

Blaisdell lifted his head, diverting his attention from his bonds. "Where?"

Caine turned his head towards a dirty window pane on the back cabin wall. Paul cautiously let his eyes drift over the same direction, not wanting to draw the attention of their captors, who were gathering up belongings and stuffing them into duffel bags. When he finally had the window in sight, nothing was there. He frowned and started to question Caine. Before words could be produced, he saw a dark-haired head suddenly come into view. Peter.

A surge of hope shot through the man. He pulled on his bonds and realized that he was very close to being free. He redoubled his efforts.

Peter instantly saw his father, Paul and Claudia. They appeared to have been bound and discarded. His eyes made contact with his father's. He could see hope, concern and. . .pain intermixed in the brown orbs. His father was hurt. It was his blood he had found on the trail.

That realization shocked Peter into action. Dropping back down to a kneeling position beneath the window, Peter concentrated on formulating a plan.

"We have to help him," Paul whispered as he watched Peter's head disappear from view. "He can't take on these three by himself."

"He will try," Caine replied.

"I know that. That's what has me worried," Paul glanced back at the window, but Peter had not returned.

"We must be prepared to assist any way we can." Caine shifted position, grimacing slightly with the movement.

Paul looked down at the red stain marring his companion's side. It seemed larger than before, but he couldn't be sure. "I think you'd better stay put. That wound looks like it's acting up again."

Before Caine could respond, Jake's voice caught their attention, although his words were not directed at the captives. "Get ten thousand in large bills. That should be enough to convince the cops their search is over."

Tony nodded and left the cabin. Jake smiled at their guests. "It won't be long now. We'll be on our way and you. . .well, you will be dead. But don't worry. You are serving a valuable purpose."

Peter crouched low in the brush. He had been in the process of making his way back to the booby trap on the trail. If he could trigger the device while being a safe distance away, he would be able to get the upper hand on the three men. True, he would be outnumbered, but he would have surprise on his side.

His plans changed when the front door of the cabin opened and one of the captors walked out. The man left the porch and crossed the open area in front of the cabin, heading for a pile of firewood stacked a few feet from the side of the building. At first Peter assumed the man was gathering wood to start a fire. Then it dawned on him that the afternoon was too warm. He continued to watch the man's movements as he crept through the woods.

When the bonds finally fell from Paul's wrist, he had to conceal his satisfaction. They were still a long way from being free and Peter, no doubt, was in the process of getting himself into trouble in an effort to help.

"What's taking so long?" Chet complained as he zipped up the duffel bag.

Jake shook his head, but said nothing. He moved to the front door, opened it and looked in the direction of the wood pile. Frowning, he took a step out onto the porch. Without a glance into the cabin, Jake grabbed the rifle next to the door and muttered to Chet, "Stay here. I'm gonna check something out." Taking the steps two at a time, Jake jogged over to the stack of firewood. On the backside of the stack, several logs had been moved and the dirt underneath partially disturbed. However, there was no sign of Tony. "Tony?" Jake shouted. There was no response. Jake cocked the rifle and held it tightly in his hands. "Damn it," he muttered. Then he turned and ran back to the cabin. "Chet!"

The large man came to the door. Jake looked at the man with disgust in his eyes. "Tony's gone."

"He split with the money?" Chet exclaimed.

"No. The money's still there. He's gone."

Chet's eyes narrowed. "The cop?"

Jake nodded. "Tony is either after him or. . ." The large man paused and then glared at the captives. "Watch our guests. Either way I'll find Tony and take care of the cop. They can't be too far away." The man spun on his heel and jumped off the porch.

Peter watched the leader of the group leave the cabin, rifle in hand, clearly on a mission. . .a mission to capture the young cop. Peter fingered the wound at his side. That man's hands had inflicted it.

He looked down at the incapacitated outlaw lying at his feet. The man was unconscious, a bloody gash in the side of his head, courtesy of Paul's gun. The detective had taken the liberty of trussing up his new prisoner. The man's belt secured his feet. Peter's secured his hands behind him. The man's T-shirt now served as a gag.

Peter patted the man on the shoulder. "I really am sorry about the headache. I told you not to move," he whispered, only half-serious. "Gotta run now. Don't go anywhere."

The cop watched as Jake headed back towards the woodpile. Fortunately, Peter had kept the presence of mind to move the man's partner to the opposite side of the clearing. He would not be discovered in a search for awhile.

Jake left the clearing and pursued a course into the brush, away from the cabin.

Peter smiled to himself. Now was his chance. He came out from his hiding place and began a quiet advance to the cabin. He had almost made it to the porch when the sound of a rifle discharge echoed, causing him to alter his plans. He glanced in the direction of the woodpile and saw Jake running back through the brush towards him.

"Damn it," Peter muttered as he changed his direction and ran back into the woods, knowing that the game of cat and mouse, which he had been forced to play earlier, had just started again.

The sound of the rifle discharge caused Chet to run to the door. He saw the dark head of a fleeing figure heading into the forest and Jake pursuing. Chet started to follow, but then remembered his captives. He began a turn towards the prisoners when a debilitating blow connected to the side of his head. The man collapsed against the wall and then slid to the ground limply.

Paul Blaisdell stood above the man, a satisfied smile on his face and his enemy's rifle in his hand. His satisfaction was short lived however, as logic told him why there had been the reverberation of gunfire.

Caine said the words that Paul was thinking. "Peter is in trouble."

Paul turned towards Caine, expecting him to still be bound in the corner. He had to stifle his surprise when he found Caine standing behind him, hands free. "How did. . .?" he started to ask, but then shook his head. "Never mind."

Caine placed a hand on the Captain's shoulder. "You must help our son."

Caine's words stung Paul. Peter's father was, once again, trying to force a relationship which Paul feared was not there. "But you're hurt."

"That is why you must go. I will free Claudia and make sure that the other two do not escape custody."

Paul narrowed his eyes at the Shaolin. "I'll need your help to find him."

"You will not. Now go," Caine insisted as he pushed Paul towards the door.

Nodding, Paul moved over to the duffel bag on the table, reached into the pocket and grabbed a handful of shells for the rifle. Dropping them into his pocket, he reached for the rifle he had used to take out Chet and he ran from the cabin in search of Peter.

End Part 28

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