Part 7
The disguised truck drove sedately away from the white farmhouse, up the winding mountain roads. In the back, Peter tried to keep his balance as bumps in the road made the truck bounce. He was standing, his hands cuffed over his head to a metal brace in the center of the roof. He looked up, hoping he had missed a way, any way, to get his hands free, but the truck was too dark.
Peter had seen the truck as he was forced into it. It was a battered, non-descript truck that could have been used for anything from shipping apples to carting hay bales. The original intention of the metal brace had probably been to anchor crates to keep them from shifting during deliveries. Unfortunately, it worked just as well keeping nosy detectives in place during a kidnapping. Straker's men sat on benches mounted around the walls of the truck, watching him. One of them turned on a fluorescent flashlight, and Peter could see again.
"Waiting to see my Houdini tricks?" Peter quipped.
"Shut up kid," one of the men growled.
"Just trying to break the tension." Peter grinned, gauging the men's reactions. They showed no emotion. Not a good sign, but at least their fists weren't swinging at him. He decided to push them a little farther. Maybe they would give away something, anything that would tell him what this was all about. "So, where are we going?"
"Already trying to figure out another escape plan?" The same man who had spoken before regarded him without expression.
"Can't blame a guy for trying." The man got to his feet. Peter thought
Peter stared back, unflinching. He tried to clear his all-too-readable eyes of the anger and fear he felt…tried to look back with curiosity and calm. From what he had heard from Kermit, Straker's men felt no particular loyalty towards their employer; he simply paid their fees. If he could gain a friend in the ranks, maybe there was a chance of escape or rescue.
The grey-haired mercenary watched as hope filled the kid's eyes. "I worked once with your foster father and the computer geek," he commented softly, still staring into those hopeful eyes, waiting for the younger man to relax his guard. When that happened, his voice turned harsh. "I didn't like them. Blaisdell always was a bossy bastard." With that, he slammed his fist into Peter's stomach, then returned to the bench. "Don't expect to escape from this one, kid."
Gasping for air, Peter struggled to regain his feet and tried to bring his muddled thoughts back under control. When they had escaped from Straker's prison, Straker had been suspicious of the connection between Kwai Chang Caine and Kermit, but seemed to think that Peter was only along because of his father. Had Straker discovered Peter's connection to Paul Blaisdell? Was that the reason for this abduction?
He raised his head and looked again at the mercenaries. The grey-haired man who had spoken was watching him with a smile playing about his lips. Most of the others were staring into space, divorcing themselves from the situation. Only one was staring directly at Peter, an unreadable look in his eyes. Peter memorized his face, just in case.
His breathing under control, Peter opened his mouth to ask another question. "Don't," the grey-haired mercenary warned, "Unless you want more of the same."
Prudently, Peter closed his mouth.
They reached their destination in about an hour. The sun had set during the trip, and the Vermont night air was cold. Peter was beginning to shiver, even though he was wearing the sweatshirt Kerry had left on the bed earlier. When the truck finally jounced to a stop, one of the mercs briefly unlocked the cuffs and refastened them behind Peter's back. He could barely feel his arms.
He stumbled as he was shoved from behind and fell from the truck. He winced, knowing that with his wrists locked behind him it would be a rough landing. Unexpectedly, Kerry appeared from around the side of the truck, and broke his fall as he tumbled out on top of her. Momentarily staggered, she regained her balance, but was unable to save Peter from falling to the ground. She helped him to his feet, then almost brought them down again when she threw her arms around him in a fierce embrace.
"Touching," Straker commented. "You do have a way with the ladies, Caine."
Peter shook his head. "Look, Straker. I don't know what you want, but…"
Straker broke in. "Blaisdell. I want Blaisdell." He buffed his nails on his jacket and admired their shine as Peter was momentarily silenced.
"…and Griffin would be nice. We'll throw in your father, just for my own amusement. You, boy, are the key to getting all three of them here in my camp. Just the threat of harm to their dear little Peter, and all three of your daddy figures will be here, panting to help get you out of trouble."
Peter's heart sank, but he rallied. "How do you think you'll get them here? I don't even know where Paul is, and if you try contacting Kermit, he'll trace you down in a second. My father doesn't have a phone, so unless you're planning to go to Chinatown, you're out of luck."
Straker was looking at him with pity. "Caine, please give me the benefit of having some brains. I have had you all thoroughly researched. I know about your connection to your father, the mystic Shaolin priest. If you're hurt, he comes. If he needs more reality-based assistance, he calls Griffin. If Griffin is concerned about your welfare, he contacts Blaisdell. So the key to this entire problem is…you.
"Specifically, you in pain," he clarified. "So, let's go down into your new quarters and try to summon your protectors, shall we?" The guards grabbed peter and Kerry and pushed them after Straker.
Part 8
Kermit pulled into the dark farmhouse yard. As he moved down the driveway, floodlights lit up the yard and house. Caine was out the door before the car stopped moving, with Kermit only seconds behind. Together, they surveyed the wreckage of the French doors. Upstairs in the house, dogs began barking, their voices raspy and hoarse.
Drawing the Desert Eagle, Kermit edged his way into the house around the ruined doors. A few lights were on, but looking at the outlets, he saw timers. It was never too late to be cautious, and Peter's surprise visitors could have left someone behind.
Caine laid a hand on his arm. "Kermit, put your weapon away. There is someone coming." Kermit had just tucked the gun out of sight and they were back on the porch when a battered red pickup truck stopped behind his Corvair. The tall woman who got out of the truck had curly brown hair almost to her waist. She was also pointing a gun at them.
"FREEZE!" she shouted. Inside the house, the hoarse barks turned to whimpers. "Hands on your heads. Who are you and what the Hell are you doing here?" Her eyes never left Kermit's hands as they were slowly lifted above his head. He supposed that he should be honored that she so obviously considered him the more dangerous of the pair confronting her.
Beside him, Kwai Chang Caine inclined his head. "I am Caine," he stated slowly, his hazel eyes regarding her calmly. "We are searching for my son. Your…sister…found him in the woods earlier today."
"Kerry? Oh God, Kerry." She turned her gaze to the older man. "Where is she?" Fear made her voice break. "What have you done with her?"
Caine shrugged. "We have not…done…anything with her. The men who took my son took her as well." The look he sent to her was full of sympathy. "She has not…yet…been harmed."
Kermit sighed. "You must be Kim Houghton."
The woman turned green eyes back to him, letting her anger override her fear. "How do you know that?" she snapped.
"I'm from the Sloanville PD. If you'll permit me…"As she nodded warily, he reached into his jacket and pulled out his badge, handing it to her. "Kermit Griffin. Caine's son is my partner, he disappeared a week ago. When your sister called me this morning to tell me that she found him, I did a little research. Various sources listed a sister in law enforcement."
Taking the badge, she examined it closely. With a grimace, she handed it back and tucked her gun into the back of her jeans. "You might as well come on in and tell me what's going on while I call the Sheriff's Department."
Caine laid a gentle hand on her arm. "You must not call the authorities yet."
"The Hell I won't!" she said explosively, throwing off the hand. "If my sister has been abducted, then we need to start looking for her right now!"
"Even if that could get her killed?" Kermit asked quietly.
Kim shook her head angrily. "Who are you guys and what is going on?" She looked up as the whimpering upstairs turned into something that sounded like small children crying. "Just a minute." Running upstairs, she opened the warped bedroom door. All three dogs shot out, tripping over each other and almost falling down the stairs in their haste to get outside.
Kim plunged down the staircase behind them. Once she joined the men on the porch outside, two of the dogs tried to climb up her legs, whining and crying. The third one ran in circles, as if trying to find something.
As she bent down to comfort the dogs, Kim glared at her visitors, who were staring bemusedly at the crying dogs. "So? Start talking."
"Peter disappeared about a week ago," Kermit began, when Caine raised his hand.
"Is that…her dog?" he asked, staring at the frantic Maggie, who was trying to crawl under Kermit's car.
Kim frowned, studying the dog's actions. "Kerry's? Yes. Her name is Maggie."
"Did Kerry have the dog with her when she found Peter?"
Kermit broke in. "When I talked to her, she said that she and her dogs found him on a walk."
Kim nodded. "That's really the reason Kerry would go in the woods, to walk the dogs. These two are old and don't need much exercise, but Maggie is full of energy. She would have been up on the trails to Blue Mountain. They start up there." She pointed across the field. "Why?"
Caine stared at the dog, and as Maggie went by, grabbed her by the collar. "I think that…Maggie…can help us find both Kerry and Peter."
Kermit stared at the black dog, now trying to pull away from the man holding her. With a frown, he shook his head. "Caine, they won't take Peter back to the same place."
"Yes." The older man declared firmly. "We are speaking of Straker. He wishes for us to find him, he will not make it difficult. If we are lucky, he does not know that Peter had Kerry contact you. He does not know that we are here."
To Parts 9 and 10