Reflections

Part 5

Paul listened to his son's breathing, noting the hesitation, followed by a low moan, every third or fourth breath. A little light was cast through the window, spreading pale moonlight only inches from the two prisoners, allowing Paul to see the grimace on Peter's face.

Peter had fallen asleep after his meditation and communication with Jessie. He had been unaware that Paul had guided him to lay his head in Paul's lap. The injured leg lay straight out, a makeshift bandage wrapped around the wounds.

Glancing at his watch, Paul noticed thirty minutes had gone by. Knowing Stiles to be a punctual man, Paul prayed that Peter had been able to contact help, even though it sounded impossible. It wasn't so long ago that Paul had scoffed at the mystical tricks Peter had said his father could accomplish; even Peter had thought they were little more than parlor tricks though no one could explain the strange things that Kwai Chang Caine had accomplished.

As if hearing his name, Peter roused from his slumber. His leg throbbed while the rest of his body protested against any movement. Looking at the faint outline of his right forearm, he saw the dragon. The representation of wisdom for the Shaolin priest was burned into his arms. "I don't deserve these," he said, more to himself than to his father.

"Why do you say that?" Paul heard the self-doubt that had plagued Peter as a teenager now in the adult.

Hesitating, Peter tried to voice his thoughts. "When I went and completed my training, I was told I could take the brands, but I thought of my path, my destiny. Paul, all my life, I have wanted to help others and I have done that being a cop. You showed me how to take my anger and forge it into something I could use."

"You didn't take them then."

The statement wasn't lost on Peter. Memories of the day Paul left came back, along with a nagging feeling that Peter had been left out on something. Turning to face his foster father, Peter tried to contain the anger that threatened to boil over. "The only ones to know that were my father and Lo Si and Kermit. Kermit knew? He knew and didn't tell me. All this time he knew where you were and didn't tell me! SHIT! You know how that makes me feel, Paul? You could tell a him, but not me! You think that I am some sort of…of china doll that can't be played with because I might get broken? I'm a COP! At least I was."

The last sentence was said so quietly that Paul almost missed it, his ears still ringing from the angry words. "Why did you quit?"

"What? Kermit leave you out on that part of my life?" The bitterness of the words was evident. "Who else knew, Paul? Pop? Mom? Carolyn? Damn it! So that means…" Peter trailed off, his thoughts turned inwards, thoughts of no one trusting him with the information of Paul's whereabouts. Even his real father did not trust him. *IF I'm one not to be trusted with that knowledge, then can I be trusted to be a priest? * "To answer your question, I don't know why I quit. It doesn't matter anymore."

Peter's change of subject and defeated words worried Paul. Kermit was the one who had relayed information that Paul needed to find Alexa, and on Peter's state of mind according to Kermit. Paul had thought of telling Annie, but the risk was too great. At least when she found out that Kermit knew, she would not hesitate to tell him her feelings, unlike Peter, who now kept his thoughts to himself.

"I owe you an explanation," Paul started.

"You don't owe me anything. You couldn't trust me with this little secret of yours, period. So there is nothing to explain. I'm not worthy to be your son, nor a priest. Hell, Paul, even my real father didn't think I could handle things on my own then. He didn't leave until I took the brands. Up until then, he was always there, 'protecting me' as he called it."

"There's not much I can do about your father. He lost you for so many years, that he didn't want to lose you again so soon. Like I said, it's not that I didn't trust you, but that I didn't trust myself. What I was about to do was illegal and I couldn't get you involved."

"So when you left, he thought he could make me into what he's always wanted? Fine! I became a cop because of you and now I'm a priest because of him!"

"Stiles will be back soon." Paul's change of subject threw Peter.

"You're n-not going to-to tell him where Alexa is, are you?"

Paul smiled slightly. "I often thought your father just got lucky when he'd say what you were thinking. Me, I just had to watch your face and how you walked to know what you were thinking. Stiles will come back in here and kill you. I couldn't live with that. I know that you had problems believing I wanted you as a son, but it was and still is the truth and if you died because of my actions…"

"I couldn't live knowing that a young girl and her family died because of me, either. Please don't tell them. Mom and Kelly are safe and Kermit is close. I can feel him."

His heart breaking, Paul nodded, knowing that what Stiles had planned for Peter would kill both father and son. Looking around once again, he noticed that the only exits were the window six feet above the ground and the door, which was more than likely guarded.

"Peter?"

Following his father's train of thought, Peter looked at the boxes that were stacked into a corner of the room. Moonlight shining through the window continued to give them the ability to see the outlines of the boxes and a few barrels. "I-I don't think I c-can help move them."

Peter felt a presence, one he had attuned his mind to link to when the person was near. "Paul, the window. K-Kermit's at the window."

Looking up, Paul saw a small beam of light reflect off the window, keeping the holder of the light invisible but allowing the prisoners to know that someone was looking in. "At the risk of sounding crazy, can you - talk - to him?"

A small laugh came from Peter. "No. I-I can just f-feel him is all. He sees us. We n-need to get t-to the window."

Easing Peter's head and shoulders off his lap and helping Peter to prop himself against the wall, Paul got up and started to see if he could make a stairway to the window. Time was running out for them. Picking up one box, Paul carried it and placed it under the window. When he looked up, the light was gone.

"He-he heard something," Peter stated, sensing Paul's unasked question.

Gunfire brought both men's attention to the window, seeing numerous lights dancing against the trees and through the window that had once been their path to freedom. Moments later, a key unlocked the door to their cell as the lights were turned on. Kermit was shoved into the room, his hands cuffed behind his back leaving him unable to brace himself against the inevitable fall to his knees.

"Well, looks like we got a little company. Griffin, I believe you know our guests," Benson introduced the friends as he calculated his next move.

****

Thirty minutes was a long time to those who waited somewhat patiently for Kermit's return. Continuing to look through the binoculars, Dakota watched as Kermit looked through each window on the lowest level. As Kermit was checking the last window, Dakota stiffened as he saw the approaching danger to the computer cop.

"Damn," Dakota voiced as he saw Kermit being led around the back of the building.

"What is it?" Mary Margaret tugged on Dakota's sleeve, attempting to get the man's attention.

"They just got Kermit. I see two more men searching the area around the building. We need to call for backup."

She hesitated only a moment, briefly debating doing a Peter Caine stunt and going in with guns blazing, or what the policy and procedure manual stated. One look from her partner and a gunshot made her decide on the latter. "I have Kermit's keys. We can drive around the block and call from there." Neither wanted to take the chance that Benson had some type of scanner that would pick up their cell phone conversation.

****

Visiting hours were over, leaving the hospital quiet as patients went to sleep and employees attempted to be quiet while catching up on paperwork. The ringing of the telephone in Kelly Blaisdell's room brought both Captain Simms and Annie Blaisdell to attention.

Karen Simms answered the phone just as Jessie came in the door. "Yes, Chief. Are you sure? Where?" Karen's rapid-fire questions were followed by her writing down the information that Strenlich was giving her. "OK, get some units down there. I need someone here with Annie and Kelly Blaisdell. When my relief gets here, I'll meet you over there." With that she hung up the phone, folded the paper she had written on, and tucked it into her purse, which had never gotten out of her reach. Her arm brushed against the small .38 she kept holstered at her waist.

"They've found Paul and Peter." Annie's statement was filled with purpose and hope.

"They don't know. Dakota, Skalany, and Kermit went to check out a lead and somehow Kermit was captured. Frank's sending an officer over here and I'm going to go meet them. Jessie, you stay here with Mrs. Blaisdell."

"Excuse me, Captain, but I think I should be allowed to go. I may be able to help," Jessie defended herself, refusing to be left behind. "Besides, if you don't let me come with you, I'll follow you. If you let me come, I'll stay in the background until you say I can come out. Deal?"

Recognizing the same stubborn look that a few of her detectives wore, Simms gave in. "But the first time you do something that is stupid, I'll put the cuffs on you myself. Do I make myself clear?"

Jessie was unable to contain the smile that curved at her lips. "Yes, Ma'am."

****

Hugh roughly pulled Peter up onto his knees, not caring about the injuries already inflicted upon the priest. Next, Hugh placed the muzzle of his gun to Peter's temple and pulled back the hammer.

"What's going on?!" Paul shouted as he watched the action in front of him.

"You see, since Detective Griffin is here, that means that he has left a trail to us. Instead of being patient, we now have to take the more expedient route. I give you…" Benson looked at his watch, seeing the second's tick by, "…two minutes to tell me where Alexa is. If you don't, your son will die. Then Detective Griffin, and then your wife and daughters, until I get what I want."

"Why, you son of a…" Unable to control the rage any longer, Paul lunged at Benson, knocking the man to the ground with a thud.

Seeing his former commander's action, Kermit jump kicked at Hugh, displacing the gun to Peter's head. Hugh landed against the wall, unconsciousness claiming him. Looking over at Paul, Kermit watched as Paul drove his fists into the captor's face and abdomen time and time again. "Paul!"

The warning came quickly enough for Paul to turn around and see three other men run into the cell, followed by Stiles. Each of the three men charged Kermit and Paul, ignoring Peter, who strained to get up. Stiles was the only one aware of the potential threat from the ex-cop.

Two men came after Kermit, each meeting the fists and feet of the detective who had been taking kung fu lessons from Peter and incorporating the moves with his own fighting style. Fists to the larger man's temple made him go down like a felled tree.

Paul defended himself with the grace and agility he had learned from boxing in the military so long ago. Taking his younger opponent was harder than taking Benson had been, but he was winning.

"POLICE! Freeze!" was shouted into the room as Dakota, Skalany, and Strenlich stood just inside the doorway, their weapons aimed at those standing. Their Captain and several other officers were just behind them.

Everyone stopped fighting when a gun went off. Looking around, each person saw Stiles standing behind Peter as Hugh had done, his gun buried into Peter's neck.

"Drop it, Stiles," Strenlich ordered, anticipating that the man would not let go of his only means of escape. He was right.

Stiles stood his ground, pushing the muzzle further into Peter's soft flesh. "You think I'm stupid? No, you put down your weapons or our priest goes on to his next life."

Paul, Simms, and Kermit watched Peter's face change from one displaying hundreds of emotions to one displaying calm and serenity.

Unable to concentrate on both his leg and the weapon, Peter did what his captor would not suspect. With a swift move, Peter grabbed at Stiles' wrist, moving the gun from his neck.

Simms saw the window of opportunity and fired her weapon, her aim at Stiles' right shoulder accurate, but the shot failed to find its target before Stiles' gun went off.

Officers rushed in to handcuff the abductors, including Stiles and Benson. Paul ran to Peter, Kermit close on his heels, but was beaten there by a dark haired woman who cradled Peter's head to her chest.

Blood slowly spread around the hole in Peter's shirt. Swallowing to try and hold back the pain, he smiled as he saw Paul's concerned face. "I-I'll b-be fine."

Jessie grabbed at the cloth her brother handed her and pressed it against the wound as she started to gently rock her patient and friend. "Yes, you'll be fine."

Officers quickly handcuffed the kidnappers, including Stiles, while others went to search the building and grounds for those that might have gotten away.

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