Guardian Angels Part 5 and yes...the Conclusion

Skalaney, following Lo Si's instructions, had found herself on Walnut Street. Lo Si sat on the passenger side, saying nothing, eyes half closed. He looked like he was ready to fall asleep, but Mary Margaret suspected he was meditating...trying to communicate with Peter. She had seen Caine's ability to link with his son and suspected the mysterious elderly man could do the same.

The light on the corner of Walnut and 23rd turned red, bringing the car to a halt. "Turn here," Lo Si's arm motioned to the right. It was the first words Lo Si had spoken since they had left the accident scene. Mary Margaret followed his instructions, waited for traffic to clear and proceeded around the corner.

"We're heading towards the shipping yards. Do you think that's where Peter is?"

"Yes."

"But that area is huge. He could be anywhere. How do we know where to start looking?"

"We will know." Lo Si looked at the young woman, eyes clear and a slight smile on his face. He closed his eyes again and felt the link to Caine.

Kwai Chang Caine had been in constant contact with the Ancient since he and Mary Margaret left the precinct. At the accident scene, Caine had felt his son's presence and was able, without prompting, to determine the direction his son had been taken. He could see Peter's trail as clearly as if breadcrumbs had been dropped on the route.

Caine had been able to sense what his son was sensing. The smell of wet, damp, musty air penetrated his nose. He instinctively knew that his son was near water. He had tried to tap into his son's vision, but all he could see were dark, shapeless figures.

Caine did not attempt to communicate with Peter, only see what he was seeing, hear what he could hear, smell what he smelled. To converse with Peter would distract Caine. He could not afford to become absorbed in his son's emotions. The brief contact he had made with Peter had brought only pain and fear, convincing him that seeing too much could jeopardize his ability to be of help in the search. So instead, he resolved himself to be an unattached, disinterested translator ...nothing more...no matter how difficult the detachment was.

After his brief contact with Paul, Peter had been left alone in the room to ponder his fate. He was still bound to the bed, unable to move. He closed his eyes, attempting to calm the fear that constantly rose from the pit of his stomach. Speaking with Paul, albeit for a brief time, had helped give Peter hope. At least he knew that his friends were looking for him. He knew that Paul would do anything to find him. Suddenly that comforting thought turned to fear. Peter didn't want to die at the hands of these men, but he wanted Paul to be hurt even less. He had already suffered through one father's senseless death...he couldn't stand to experience another.

Peter forced himself to stop the fatalistic thoughts. Paul was alive, as was Peter. He just needed to make sure he stayed alive long enough to buy Paul time to find him. He took a deep breath, the pain in his side returning, and exhaled slowly, ignoring the pull. He had never been good at meditation. It required stillness, something that didn't come naturally. But meditation would allow him to focus his efforts, concentrate on a means of escape. Of all escape options he could think of, of all the ways he might be able to provide assistance to Paul, only one held immediate comfort and hope...Kwai Chang Caine.

Peter closed his eyes and concentrated all of his efforts on his natural father. He reached out in desperation, hoping to feel the comfort only Caine could offer, but he felt nothing. As a child, after the temple had been destroyed, he had attempted to touch his father, hoping against hope that his father would miraculously answer and comfort him. But there had never been a response to his pleas. Only silence. The same silence greeted him now. Peter shook off the despair of the loneliness and tried the contact again.

Frank Strenlich arrived at the safe house. He raised his hand to knock on the door and was startled to have it opened for him. Paul held it open and motioned for him to enter.

Frank looked around the foyer and towards the large doors which had previously protected the secret apartment. The doors were now open, the room within bare. It looked a great deal different than it had two months ago. It made him realize how much things had changed in that short period.

He walked into the large room and saw the man from the FBI alert sitting at a small table frantically typing on a computer keyboard. The man wore sunglasses and did not look up to acknowledge the new guest. Paul took a place between Frank and the stranger. "Frank Strenlich, I'd like you to meet Kermit Griffin."

Griffin still did not look up from the computer screen. Frank, sensing the distant arrogance from the man, had instantly determined that they would not be friends. In fact, Frank had to hold himself back from slapping handcuffs on the murder suspect. "Charmed, I'm sure." Frank couldn't help the rude greeting. The sunglassed man said nothing.

"You'll have to forgive Kermit. Grace and etiquette aren't his strong suits."

"No kidding...what a surprise." Frank raised his eyebrows at his boss and turned away from Griffin.

"I heard that," was the only reply from the man.

Paul smiled at the response. Frank decided it was time to get down to business. He didn't want to spend any more time around this man than he had to. "So, what's going on Paul? You decide that it was more fun hanging around murder suspects than cops?" Paul's smile disappeared. He glanced back at Kermit to see what kind of response Frank was going to receive, half suspecting that the mercenary would attack Frank from behind. Kermit, however, acted as if the comment meant nothing.

"Kermit didn't do it, Frank."

"That's not what the Feds say."

"Well, they're wrong."

"Who says? You? Or the Computer Geek over there?" Frank motioned back towards Griffin.

Without warning, Kermit's hand gripped Frank's shoulder and he was spun around, and found himself unexpectedly facing the mercenary. "I didn't do it," Griffin's voice was soft and calm, but the look on his face was deadly. Frank had been in war, faced many enemies, but he rarely had seen a look so menacing. He was briefly taken aback.

"Okay, fine. So you didn't do it. Why do the Feds say otherwise?" Frank decided a different approach with the man would be in his best interest.

"He was set up, Frank. That's all you need to know," Paul leaned back against the computer table.

"So what do you need me to do?"

"I need you to take him to the Federal Building so that he can confess to the murder."

Frank wasn't sure that he had heard the instructions right. Eyes wide, he turned to Griffin, "You're joking, right? You just said you didn't do it."

"Frank, listen to me. I can't go into details. There's not enough time for that. I need you to take him in, but don't leave him alone...ever. I've contacted a friend of mine at the bureau. He's going to clear you to be with him. Don't allow yourself to get separated from him. You got it?"

Frank nodded. "This is about Peter, isn't it."

Paul was silent for a long while. Frank wasn't sure he was going to answer. "Yes. If Kermit doesn't turn himself in, Peter will be killed. But I'm convinced that the people who have Peter are going to try to kill Kermit...make it look like a suicide or maybe a failed escape attempt. That's why I need you to be with him."

Frank may not have liked the cocky stranger, but there was no way he was going to allow someone to hurt him...not if Paul said he needed to be protected and certainly not if Peter's life depended on him. "Okay, so when do we make our grand entrance at the Federal Building?"

"At 8:00 this morning. I want you to see Special Agent Garcia. He's my contact. He'll handle the intake for Kermit."

"Where are you going to be during all of this?"

"Finding my son."

Lo Si had, with Caine's assistance, guided Mary Margaret to a deserted warehouse on the waterfront. "It is here," the old man pointed to the structure. The building had seen better days. The windows were boarded up, the paint weathered and chipped from neglect.

"What?"

"The car that took Peter."

Skalaney looked at the area around the building, but there was no car. She shrugged her shoulders and decided to park her car at the back of the next building, hiding it from view of the warehouse Lo Si had identified.

She checked for her gun, reassuring herself that it was securely in its holster. She dropped her cell phone in her pocket and climbed out of the car. Lo Si had already left the car and was quickly proceeding to the water's edge. Walking along the wooden dock, the mismatched pair had to avoid crates, barrels and rope which were strung about, using the early morning dawn to light their way. Mary Margaret looked up at the building, trying to detect any movement, but there was no activity on the outside. Lo Si suddenly stopped and grabbed the cop's arm. He stared over the edge of the dock and down into the water. Mary Margaret followed his gaze, attempting to see what the man saw. She saw nothing but the murky green water.

"Do you not see it?" Lo Si asked the woman?

"See what?"

"Look at the water again," the old man instructed. She complied. "What do you see?"

"Nothing...I see nothing, except the water."

"Do you not see something else?"

Skalaney was tired and her patience was starting to wear thin. "I already said I don't see anything."

"The car...do you not see the car?"

Skalaney couldn't help the surprise that crossed her face. She looked back at the water. The sun was barely above the horizon. She stared at the water, seeing nothing. Then she realized the harder and longer she stared, she started to envision a shape. It was a car. Sitting on the bottom. "That's the Park Avenue," she said excitedly. Then fear gripped her heart. "Oh my God, Peter's not in there is he?"

Lo Si comfortingly took her arm. "No. He is not in it. But he is near. I can feel it."

"Where?"

"I believe he is in there?" Lo Si pointed to the building behind them.

"How do you know?" Skalaney's voice was filled with doubt. She knew that Caine could do some miraculous things, but she did not have the same confidence in the Ancient and this was Peter's life they were dealing with.

"His essence is strong. He has a very powerful chi."

Skalaney surveyed the exterior of the building. It was large and deteriorated. No doubt there would be many places to hide and ambush unwelcome guests. She decided that before attempting to find Peter, she would request backup.

She grabbed the Ancient by the arm and led him back to her car, hoping that if anyone had seen them they would think the two were just out enjoying an early morning walk, nothing more.

She pulled out her phone and dialed Blaisdell's number. The Captain answered before the first ring had finished. "Blaisdell."

"Captain, Lo Si and I are at a warehouse on the waterfront. We found the Park Avenue. Lo Si says he thinks Peter is inside one of the buildings."

"I'm about five minutes away."

"We'll be waiting for you at the warehouse that's on the corner of 2nd and Chestnut. It's the next building to the east. Do you want me to call the Chief for backup?"

"No. It's too risky. If they're in one of the warehouses they'll be able to see us coming. I don't want them to get the drop on us or bolt." Paul paused, asking the next question with great difficulty. "Can Lo Si tell if Peter is okay?"

Skalaney looked over at the Ancient. His eyes were closed; he was clearly concentrating. She started to convey Paul's question when suddenly Lo Si spoke. "He is alive. He is attempting to communicate with his father." Lo Si paused, his face saddened, "He is afraid. He is calling out to his father for assistance."

Skalaney could feel her heart breaking. "Why doesn't Caine answer him? How can he just ignore Peter?" She didn't understand how a man she had come to admire and respect for his emotional strength and compassion could ignore the pleas from his son.

"Do not doubt Kwai Chang Caine's love for his son. Peter is not alone. His father is helping him."

Paul's voice sounded in Mary Margaret's ear, "I'm almost to your location. I don't want either of you moving until I arrive." The phone was disconnected.

Lo Si's eyes were closed again. Kwai Chang Caine had relayed important feelings to the Ancient. Caine had heard his son's pleas. He desperately wanted to hold his son, provide him with the comfort he needed, but instead he filtered out the words and concentrated on the psychic link instead. Peter's chi strength filled his being and wrapped around him, drifting to Caine like the rope of a life preserver. It was easy for Caine to grab hold of the rope and transfer it to Lo Si. He just wished he were physically there to be able to pull Peter to safety.

True to his word, Paul's car pulled in behind Skalaney's. Mary Margaret met her Captain as he exited the car. She pointed to the warehouse where Peter was supposedly being held. "Lo Si says that Peter is in that building."

"Do you know where?" Paul asked the elderly man.

"No. I believe he is in a cold, dark place. There is no light from the sun. The air is thick and wet."

Skalaney spoke up. "I think this warehouse was used to store fish for shipment. Wouldn't they have freezers for the fish that were brought in? Maybe Peter's in one of those."

"It's a long shot, but it makes sense," Paul nodded in agreement. "Okay, here's what we do. Skalaney, I want you and Lo Si to enter through the back door. I'll go in the front. Keep it quiet. We need the element of surprise on our side."

Lo Si grinned mysteriously, "Stealth and shadow."

The three separated as Paul had instructed. Skalaney and Lo Si approached the back of the building, pressing their bodies against the side to reduce the possibility of being seen. There was a regular door to the left of a large loading bay door which provided access to the back. Skalaney's hand reached out to the doorknob and twisted it. It was locked. Lo Si gently pushed Skalaney aside and placed his thumb over the lock. Within a few seconds he turned the knob and the door silently opened. Skalaney couldn't help the look of wonder which crossed her face. "You gotta teach me how to do that," she whispered. Lo Si smiled at the phrase which had been used so often by Peter. Suddenly, he grabbed her arm and pushed her behind a stack of boxes that were off to the right of the door. Looking through the crack between the stacks, Mary Margaret could see two men in suits coming down a stairway on the far side of the large room. She was certain that these were two of the men that had taken Peter.

She watched them leave the stairway and walk to a door that was near the staircase. They opened the door and walked in, leaving the door open behind them. She started to rise from her hunched position, but Lo Si held her firm and she was unable to move. She heard footsteps on the stairs and three more men came down. They were talking amongst themselves. The two men in the lead moved around the staircase and headed towards the front of the building. Skalaney could see the sunlight of the dawn enter the room as the men left the building. Panicked, she realized they were heading towards Paul and she prayed he would not be spotted. She listened carefully trying to determine whether the men had seen the Captain. But there was no sound. She could only assume that the men had left and no confrontation had occurred.

She refocused her attention on the remaining man. He stood at the doorway of the room the first two had entered, apparently talking to them. She could hear bits and pieces of words, but not complete sentences.

"...wants...take him...dock…anchor...Griffin...8:30...over by 9:00." Hearing Kermit Griffin's name being used in the disjointed words instantly caused panic in the cop. She turned to Lo Si and realized he was no longer at her side. She had never felt him leave. Desperately she looked into the dark shadows surrounding the room, but saw nothing.

Rustling sound came from the area where the first two men had disappeared. Unexpectedly, they came through the door dragging something between them. Skalaney focused hard, her vision hampered by the dim light in the room. She heard a groan and realized that the object being carried by the men was Peter.

Peter appeared to be conscious, but unable to support his own weight. Each arm was draped over the shoulders of the men who were on either side of him. Suddenly the voice of the man who had been leaning against the door was much clearer. "I told you to keep the cuffs on him."

"He's not going anywhere. He can't even walk," one of the men responded.

"Put the handcuffs on. I don't want a repeat of what happened earlier."

"Okay, fine...whatever." The man on Peter's right reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of handcuffs. He grabbed Peter's right wrist and started to pull the arm behind Peter's body. Suddenly, with a sudden surge of energy, Peter became alert and kicked out with all his strength at the man standing in front of him, successfully connecting with his kneecap. There was a crunch of bone as the leg bent backwards and the man collapsed on the floor, groaning in pain. Peter pushed with all his strength against the larger man on his left, sending him in an off-balance sprawl onto the floor, then he jerked his right arm forward and swung the elbow back, connecting with the nose of the man who was attempting to cuff him. Suddenly free of all three men, Peter decided, given his current physical condition, his best bet for freedom was to run. The man, who had been shoved to the side, scrambled to his feet and followed Peter. Peter ran behind crates stacked against the opposite wall as fast as his stiff legs and sore body would carry him.

Mary Margaret had seen Peter's escape attempt and suddenly sprung from her hiding place, gun drawn. "Police, freeze!" she shouted at the top of her lungs. The man who had been hit in the face stopped his movement. Then suddenly he turned towards her, and with gun in hand, he fired at the cop. Skalaney dove to her right, rolled and came up in a crouch, returning his fire. She hit the man in the left shoulder. He collapsed on the floor without a sound. Mary Margaret wanted to help Peter, but she knew she needed to secure the two men who were lying on the floor. She carefully approached the man with the gunshot wound and keeping her gun at the ready. Suddenly, the man with the injured knee raised his arm. Before Skalaney could fire, the gunman's arm exploded, the gun he held flying across the room. The man screamed in agony, writhing on the floor. Paul walked out from behind the stairway, gun drawn. Removing his handcuffs, he cuffed what was left of the man's arms behind him. Skalaney followed suit with the man with the wounded shoulder.

Relieved, Mary Margaret looked at her boss, "Thanks for the assist."

Ignoring her, Paul looked around the room for his son, but didn't see him. "Where did Peter go?"

Skalaney pointed to the crates stacked in rows 50 feet away. "Over there. We have to find him. He didn't look like he was in real good shape. There's a third guy who's after him."

The two ran into the rows of crates and were surprised to find another door which opened into an adjoining room. Carefully, they entered the room, guns drawn. They could hear footsteps from above and realized that Peter's assailant had chased him onto a second floor walkway which ran the perimeter of the warehouse.

Paul had to push down his fear for his son. Not only was Peter hurt, but he was now climbing around the walkways of this warehouse, at least thirty feet above the ground. In Peter's weakened condition and with his fear of heights, this could only spell disaster. He climbed the stairway, crouching low. Skalaney followed, mimicking his moves. Despite his anxiousness, Paul moved slowly and without a sound. While on the stairway, he and Skalaney would be easy targets to someone firing from above.

Peter collapsed against a crate, breathing heavily. He had heard Skalaney's shout and then the gunshots from the other room, but knew he was being chased. He couldn't afford to stop running. Unfortunately, while his mind knew it was best to keep running for safety, his body wasn't cooperating. The pain in his side had become unbearable, hampering his breathing, as well as his movement. His head was pounding, his vision beginning to blur. He knew instinctively that he wouldn't be able to run any farther and he was in no condition to fight. All he could do was find a place to hide and wait, until he was certain that the building had been secured by Skalaney and her backup. He squeezed his body between two of the crates aligning the wall and waited silently.

Suddenly his pursuer reached into the area where Peter was hiding, and with one large hand, grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pulled. Peter, taken by surprise, had been dragged half way out of the cramped space on his knees. The man was much larger than Peter, standing at least four inches taller. He reached up to grab the man's wrists, attempting to break his hold. The man's gun swung down at Peter's face. Peter ducked his head and raised an arm to block the blow. The gun hit his wrist and deflected off the side of his head. Peter's hands fell to the ground, trying to support his body so that he didn't collapse on the floor. He was not unconscious, only stunned. The man jerked Peter to his feet, gun pointed at his chest.

Suddenly, there was a sound from behind Peter. The man swung Peter around like a rag doll so that his arm was tight around Peter's throat, gun to Peter's head. "Drop the gun." Peter immediately recognized the voice of his foster father. He looked up and into the blue eyes of his Captain seeking the security that only he could provide. Paul's arm was raised, gun pointing at Peter and his assailant. He saw Mary Margaret behind Paul, gun drawn. He couldn't help the relief that instantly warmed his body. Peter's captor didn't wait to bargain, however, and instead his gun arm shot out, no longer aiming at Peter's head, but instead taking aim at the Captain, the circled arm still around Peter's throat. Peter, realizing the danger to his father, ignored the pain in his side and shoulder and pushed the man's arm up in the air with both hands. The gun went off, the bullet flying over Blaisdell and Skalaney's heads. Blaisdell, realizing he could not get a shot off without hitting his son, pushed Mary Margaret sideways and took cover between two stacks of crates.

Peter threw his elbow into the ribs of the man, but it felt like he was hitting a brick wall. The gun lowered back towards Peter's head. But before it could do any damage, the gun suddenly turned a glowing red. The man yelped in pain and dropped the gun. The scent of burned flesh entered Peter's nose. Lo Si stepped from the shadows behind Peter and his captor. The man turned, realizing he was trapped between the elderly man and the two police officers. He tightened his grip around Peter's neck and pulled Peter's struggling body to the edge of the walkway, with only a wooden safety rail standing between Peter and a fall to the floor thirty feet below.

Paul yelled out to the man, "It's over. Let him go. You aren't getting out of here."

"You let me walk out of here with your boy or I'm gonna make sure he takes a real short trip over the rail."

"You do that and you'll be dead before he hits the ground."

"It doesn't matter. I'm a dead man anyway. My boss will make sure that I don't see sunset if I'm taken in by you."

Paul didn't lower his gun. Instead he took a step closer, looking into the eyes of his weary son. Peter was trying to stay calm, but the ordeal of the past twelve hours was weighing heavily on him. Suddenly, Peter attempted to break away from the large man's grip. Taken by surprise, the man lost his hold. Furious, he raised a huge fist and brought it down. Just as it was about to connect with Peter's jaw, sending Peter over the railing with its momentum, a rush of wind blew through the room. The man's arm stopped in mid-motion. Before he could regain his concentration, Paul had fired the gun, hitting the man square in the chest. The man looked down in shock, looked back up at Paul. He attempted to grab at Peter, but Peter had stepped back in surprise. The man grasped at air, lost his balance and plummeted over the side of the railing. Within a half second, his body crashed onto the floor below.

Peter looked over the rail and saw the unmistakable sign of death, and then looked back at his father. Suddenly, his face turned sheet white and he keeled over, into Paul's arms. Lo Si and Mary Margaret helped Paul lower Peter to the floor. Peter's breathing was labored. Paul checked for a pulse at Peter's throat, afraid of what he would discover, but to his relief, the beat was strong and steady. Lo Si put his hand around Peter's wrist. "He suffers from exhaustion and some injury, but he will be fine." The elderly man looked into the eyes of Peter's foster father and partner with a smile on his face. The two were overwhelmed with relief. Then suddenly, Lo Si closed his eyes. He placed one hand on Peter's forehead, the other over his heart. Peter's breathing calmed and he suddenly stirred, eyelids fluttering. He opened his eyes and looked into the eyes of those who had rescued him. Lo Si opened his eyes and looked down at Caine's son.

Peter tried to speak, "You have to help Kermit." Paul attempted to silence him, but Peter stubbornly continued. "I heard them say that Kermit would be dead by 9:00 this morning."

Paul looked down at his watch. It was 7:45. Strenlich would be taking Kermit to the Federal Building at any time. He looked at Lo Si, suddenly panicked. "Nabours was here. I saw him leave with one of his men. They're going to kill Kermit, aren't they."

Lo Si shrugged his shoulders. "I am not certain, but I do believe that your friends could be in trouble."

"My friends?" Realization suddenly hit Paul, "Frank's in trouble too?" He rose from his knees. Regretfully, he looked down at his son, "Peter, I'm sorry. I have to help Frank and Kermit."

"It's okay, Paul. Get out of here. Hurry...there's not much time." Peter smiled at his father and closed his eyes.

"Get an ambulance here. Call Broderick for back-up." Skalaney nodded to the Captain as he took off running back down the stairs to the lower level of the warehouse. Within seconds she heard the front door of the building slam shut.

Frank Strenlich had parked the car in the visitor's parking lot of the Federal Building. Kermit Griffin had sat silently during the entire trip from the secret apartment to downtown. "Are you ready for this?"

Kermit looked at the Chief and simply said "Oh yeah." The door opened and Kermit climbed out of the car. Frank followed. Kermit suddenly stopped and looked at the rotund man. "Paul trusts you. I guess I'm going to have to trust you too."

A look of confusion crossed Frank's face. Kermit extended his hand. Frank reached out and found that a diskette had been placed in it. "I downloaded Fairchild's files. If something happens to me, make sure this gets into the right hands. It might be able to put that bastard Nabours behind bars."

Frank realized that he was earning a new-found respect for Paul's friend. He nodded silently. He opened the trunk of his car and slipped the diskette beneath the lining. "It should be safe there." Slamming the lid shut, he walked back to Kermit. "You know, Paul will get you out of this. You have to believe that."

"If Peter's life is lost in the process, what will it matter?" Kermit shrugged and continued walking to the building. Frank said nothing more.

The two men approached the front entrance of the building. Inside, they were met by three men in suits. Frank stepped forward and simply said, "I take it you were expecting us? I need to see Special Agent Garcia."

Silently, the men surrounded Frank and Kermit. Both were patted down, Frank's phone was removed, but his gun was left in tact. The men escorted them to an interrogation room. The two were placed inside and left alone, with no words being said. Frank tried the door handle, but it was locked. Suddenly, he experienced a sinking feeling in his stomach.

"I think we may be in trouble," he said to his companion. Kermit walked around the room and realized that the policeman was right.

"I was thinking the same thing."

Suddenly the door opened. Another man, equally as mysterious as the first three, walked into the room. His gun was drawn and aimed at Frank. "Move over next to Griffin," he ordered. Frank realized that going for his gun would only result in one, if not both, being shot, so he shrugged his shoulders and complied. Suddenly a voice came over the intercom system.

"Griffin, I told you that you should have taken my offer." Griffin recognized Charles Nabours' voice immediately. "You could have been a rich man. Instead, your ethics will result in the death of many innocent people. Too bad. It could have been much easier my way." Kermit said nothing. "Where's Blaisdell?" the disembodied voice asked.

"Don't know. He told me he was going to find his son."

"Well I wouldn't hold out much hope for that. As of right now, his son is anchored to the bottom of the river. I really figured that Blaisdell would be here with you. I thought I'd be able to take care of both of you at one time. No muss, no fuss. Well, that's okay. I'll just have to make sure that Blaisdell has an untimely accident. Maybe a suicide. I know that he will be very distraught over the death of his son." Kermit could see Frank bristle, and could see the back of his neck turning red. He understood the Chief's reaction. His own anger at the situation was boiling over.

"Why me?" Kermit looked at the two-way glass, knowing his tormentor was behind it.

"You were the perfect person for the job. You're a mercenary. Your loyalties have always been in question. My friends at the Agency always said that you would be an effective assassin, but that they had never found the right way to motivate you." Kermit felt sick to his stomach. "I needed someone who would, in all likelihood, take my offer, kill Fairchild and move on. Someone who was willing to let their hands get as dirty as mine. Only that would insure silence."

Kermit nodded, "And if I refused, you knew I could be framed for it and nobody would be the wiser."

The armed man continued to point his gun at the Chief and Kermit. The two were standing so close together that either would be an easy target. Nabours' voice continued. "Griffin, take your escort's gun out of the holster with two fingers. Nothing more. No funny moves, though. My man is prepared to blow holes in you and your friend the sizes of Chicago.

Kermit took a deep breath and slowly lowered his right hand to Frank's waist, unsnapping the safety strap of the holster. With his middle finger and thumb, he lifted the gun from the case. He already knew what Nabours had planned. Nabours was going to make it look like Kermit tried to escape, shot Strenlich and then was shot by the mysterious man. Simple and effective. Kermit decided at that moment to change the ending to the story. He brought the Chief's gun up suddenly, while shoving the larger man to the floor. Strenlich, off balance, hit the ground unexpectedly, the wind knocked out of him. Startled at the sudden movement, Nabours' cohort fired, hitting Kermit high in the shoulder. Kermit was flung back against the wall, losing his grip on the gun. The armed man took deadly aim at the injured man, but before he could fire, the door of the interrogation room burst open and Paul Blaisdell body tackled the man, knocking him to the floor. The gun skittered across the floor. Strenlich, who had recovered from his fall, scrambled to grab the gun. But Blaisdell had already slapped handcuffs on the man.

Without warning, Charles Nabours was shoved into the room, arms handcuffed behind him, tripping over his cohort and landing hard against the table. Paul looked up and smiled at the man who had done the shoving. Strenlich pointed his gun at the man, not knowing for sure what his intentions were. "It's okay, Frank. May I introduce Special Agent Garcia."

"Sorry I was late," the man said apologetically. One of these smart alecks locked me in the men's room. Guess they knew I was going to be the one to meet you."

Frank slowly lowered the gun and collapsed back against the wall in relief. Paul had scrambled to his feet and kneeled down next to Kermit, who was grasping at his bloody shoulder. "You okay?"

Kermit nodded silently. He raised his crimson hand to his sunglasses and pulled them off. His brown eyes met Paul's blue. "Thank you," he said quietly to his friend, the gratitude showing in his eyes.

Within thirty minutes, Kermit Griffin had been transported to the emergency room at Glencross Hospital. Paul and Frank had followed in Frank's car. Upon arrival, Paul checked in with the emergency room staff and confirmed that Peter was also in the emergency room. Paul and Frank followed the attendant back to where both men were being treated and found Lo Si and Mary Margaret watching over them.

A drape separated the two gurneys, as doctors worked on their patients. Paul was divided between checking on his son and checking on his friend. Standing between the divider, Paul could see both men. Kermit's eyes met his. A smile played across the mercenary's face. "Go take care of your son. I'm okay." Relieved and pleased with the compassion of his friend, Paul went to his son's side and grasped his hand gently, being careful not to make contact with Peter's raw wrist.

Peter was groggy, but awake. "Paul? Is Kermit okay? What was this all about? How did you find me?" One question followed another, without giving Paul the opportunity to answer any. Paul laid his other hand gently over his son's mouth, stopping the deluge of questions. "Peter, it's okay. Everyone's okay. We'll talk later. Just go to sleep." He looked up into the attending physician's eyes. The doctor smiled and nodded his approval.

"I can't go to sleep. I wanna know what happened," Peter protested, his words becoming more slurred.

Suddenly Lo Si walked up to the head of the bed and placed his hand over Peter's eyes. "Sleep, young Peter." The elderly man removed his hand and Paul looked down to find Peter sound asleep.

"Thank you," the Captain said gratefully. "Thank you for everything."

Lo Si was silent for a moment. He looked into the Captain's eyes and said "You are welcome, however, I did not act alone. I had assistance."

Paul tilted his head in curiosity, and then he nodded and looked at Skalaney, "Good job, Detective." Mary Margaret was beaming, relieved that Peter was safe.

Lo Si said nothing, realizing that Paul had misunderstood his reference. Lo Si closed his eyes and communicated with Caine, who had remained in constant contact with the Ancient since the beginning of the search. "Your son is safe. You have done well, Kwai Chang Caine." Lo Si could feel the rush of relief from Peter's father and instantly the link was broken.

Kwai Chang Caine collapsed onto the floor in physical, mental and emotional exhaustion. He could not move, he could not think. But his son was safe. He had all he could possibly wish for.

Three days later, Peter knocked on the doorframe of Lo Si's apartment. The door was standing open, as usual. "Lo Si, are you here?"

The Ancient shuffled his way into the living room, his face showing his surprise at the guest. "Oh young Peter, you are looking much better. I did not know that you were out of the hospital so soon."

"Yeah, they let me out this morning." Peter walked across the room to the bench where the Ancient began working. "Paul had to drop me off. The Corvette's been totaled so I'm without a car for awhile." Peter was still stiff, his ribs were bruised (gratefully not broken) and his head still ached from the numerous blows he had received during his captivity, but otherwise, he felt okay...he felt alive.

"Please, have a seat. I will pour you some tea." Peter sat gingerly on the couch and watched the elderly man as he prepared tea for the two of them. "How is Kermit Griffin? Is he feeling better?"

Peter nodded. "Yeah, in fact he is supposed to be released from the hospital tomorrow." Peter took the cup of tea that had been extended to him. He sipped at it, the warmth and flavor was soothing.

"He will not be arrested for the murder?"

"Nah. Nabours' man rolled and struck a deal with the U.S. Attorney. Said that he and the guy that fell over the railing had killed Fairchild, but Nabours was in charge of the whole operation. The men who took me were CIA agents out of Washington. Apparently, the whole lot of them was in on the kickback scheme. Between the guy's confession and the information Kermit found, Kermit's been cleared."

Peter was silent for a moment as he took another sip of tea. Lo Si, who was preparing a second cup, turned to the young man, "Kermit Griffin is an interesting person, is he not?"

"That's an understatement. But, I guess we'll being seeing a lot more of him. Paul has asked Kermit to stay here. He wants him to join the police force. I don't know whether Kermit's going to take him up on the offer." Peter was silent for a moment. "I bet he does, though. Paul can be pretty persuasive when he wants to be."

"Ah, yes, I agree. Your foster father certainly can be a determined man."

Peter chuckled, knowing only too well that what the Ancient said was true. He leaned back against the couch. "Lo Si, I want to thank you. I know what you did."

"What did I do?" The old man settled on the couch next to Peter.

"I...felt you...at the warehouse."

Lo Si looked questioningly at the younger man, but said nothing. Peter tried to explain. "When I was being held captive, I tried to communicate with my father, but he wouldn't answer. I did feel you, though. I knew you were looking for me. And then, when the man tried to push me over the edge of the railing, I felt a gust of wind blow through the room, between him and me and it was like his fist was stopped by it. That was you, wasn't it? If you hadn't done that, he would have pushed me over. I know it. And then when I was on the floor, I felt so weak...I couldn't move, couldn't breath and then suddenly I felt your...chi...it strengthened me. I wouldn't have been able to tell Paul about the threat to Kermit if you hadn't done that. I just want to thank you." Peter was suddenly quiet; "It was like having Pop with me the whole time." Peter was silent. He leaned his head back against the couch. "I miss him, Lo Si. I wanted him to be with me, but he wasn't. I haven't felt that alone since…"

"Peter, you must believe me, your father was with you. It was his strength you felt."

Peter sat up, a hint of anger crossing his face. "No, it wasn't him I felt. I know what he feels like in my mind. It was you. He wasn't there for me…you were."

Lo Si closed his eyes. Peter, afraid he had hurt the old man's feelings, put a hand on his shoulder. Lo Si opened his brown eyes and looked into Peter's hazel. The elder man placed a comforting arm around the younger and brought him into an embrace. Peter rested his head against Lo Si's shoulder and for an instant, just an instant, he was in the arms of his father.

That's all, folks!