Patience Rewarded

by Wendy Shywalker

Note: < > Peter's thoughts

Part One

Patience is always rewarded............the face smiled.

Peter's surveillance had gone well. They had enough to hang Brown at last. It had taken six months of sleepless nights and overtime and patience, something Peter had little of, but Brown would go down for a long time. Peter had learned patience can be rewarded.

Finishing the paperwork, Peter went to the locker room to change his shirt. He didn't want to go home to change. The apartment felt empty. In fact, HE felt empty. Kwai Chang Caine had been gone for four months. Peter knew that they couldn't spend the rest of their lives together, but he wasn't ready to say goodbye, not yet. This time his father's leaving had caused all sorts of problems. His emotions had become so raw that all his thinking had become screwed up. His patience, worn at any time, was even more so now. <Peter, you will never be ready,> he said to himself, as he went to open his locker.

"Shit," he said, rubbing his finger after something on the locker handle pricked it. He opened the door and continued to change.

Peter was just about to leave the precinct when Chief Strenlich called out, "Detective Caine, where the hell do you think you are going? "

Peter turned to Frank. "I am off duty as of.." He looked at his watch, "Two hours ago, Chief," Peter answered and kept walking.

"You're off duty when I tell you, Detective. Now get back here and finish that paperwork. You forgot the requisition form. I want the dots on the I's on this one, Pete. I don't want any excuse for Brown to get off on this one, right?"

Peter swung around, ready to say something, when the room began to sway. Peter shook his head, trying to clear it. The feeling of dizziness passed. " Okay Chief, you're right," he answered as he headed back to his desk.

'He never gives up that quickly,' Frank thought. 'Something's wrong.' Peter had suddenly gone pale, white in fact. "Pete?" Frank called.

Peter heard Frank call his name but he wasn't sure; he felt sick to his stomach. <Shit,> he thought as the world started to spin. "Frank..." and his world went black.

Kermit and Mary Margaret, were still pacing the corridors outside the emergency room when Jody arrived her feet keeping pace with rapid beating of her heart " I tried to get in contact with the Blaisdell's but they have taken Annie away for a few days, I left message, for them to call us as soon as they can...How is he? Have they said? " she asked nervously, not sure she wanted to know the answer.

Mary Margaret, gave her a hug " You know Peter, Jod, takes a lickin, but keeps on ticking " she joked, trying ease the tension, but failing miserably. Her attention was suddenly taken away, as Lo Si hurriedly walked down the corridoor toward them.

Mary Margaret looked at Kermit " I am not even going to ask how he knows " she shook her head as she went to meet the ancient " Lo Si, Peter, will be glad you are here " she said, as she then asked " Does Caine know? "

Lo Si, took Mary Margaret's hands gently in his " I do not know, his travels have taken him a great distance " then he smiled " But I am here. Shall we sit and wait " he said as he manoeuvred Mary Margaret over to a chair. As Mary Margaret allowed herself to be led she wonder if anything, upset this man's calm.

A short time later the doctor emerged from ER, his faced conveyed all the fear, Peter's friends were feeling. " Caine or the Captain not here? " he asked as he looked at the concerned faces.

Kermit answered for the others " No they are both away at the moment. What about Peter? " He ask tensely.

The doctor saw Lo Si standing back a bit from the rest and his face eased its tension a little " Lo Si, maybe you can help us, it looks like Peter has been poisoned and we have not been able to identify it. Do you think..."

Lo Si didn't wait to be asked, " I will do what I can " he said as he made his way to where Peter lay.

The doctor was turning to follow when his arm was caught by the sleeve, " Doctor, can you please tell please tell us whats going on? " Jody pleaded as she let go of the doctor's jacket.

" I am sorry. Peter has some sort of toxin in his system that we haven't been able to classify. At the moment he is very ill, Peter's father, may have been of some help, but in his absence, I am hoping Lo Si...Look I have to go and see to Peter. I'll get back to you as soon as I have something to tell you " he said as smile to try and reassure them.

Peter woke up through a vortex of pain and darkness.

" Peter, can you hear me?" a voice called to him.

Peter forced his eyes open and tried to get up, but hands gently pushed him back to the bed.

" Peter, please lie still. You came very close, this time."

<Close? What's he talking about?> Peter questioned himself. He opened his mouth to say something, but the words wouldn't come out. Peter closed his eyes and took three deep breaths. <Concentrate,> he told himself. Opening his eyes again, he asked, "What do you mean?"

Peter felt the loving hand on his forehead, and for a second, he thought it was his father; No, Caine was gone. Still Peter wasn't alone; Lo Si's caring eyes stared down at him. And he knew, without seeing, that the corridor would be filled with his friends, nevertheless there was no mistaking the void that still echoed deep within him.

Two days later, Peter was up and around. Lo Si had made him come back to his apartment to recover. The detectives at the 101st still had no clue to what the poison was or how it had been administered, but luck had been on Peter's side and the symptoms had been cured, thanks to Lo Si, and his magical herbs.

Five days later, he was back at work. Peter had the feeling he was being watched, and he was. Every time he looked around, either Blake, Frank, Mary Margaret, or even Kermit was keeping an eye out for him.

Peter couldn't stand it any longer. Getting on a chair, he stepped onto his desk. "If I could have your attention please!" he called.

The bullpen suddenly went quiet, as the suprised group, all stood stunned at Peter's actions.

"Thank you," he said when he knew he had their attention. "I would like you all to know that I, Peter Caine, am fine, healthy, recovered, and of age. Therefore, I have no need of babysitters. Now, as our streets are violent and there is crime out there, one would think your eyes would be better served looking in that direction," he said, pointing to the direction of the street.

"Detective Caine!" a voice boomed. "I hope there is a good reason why you are standing on your desk? Would you like to come into my office and explain it to me?" Captain Simms called from her doorway.

Peter shut the Captain's door behind him. "Would you like to explain what that was all about?" she asked as she pointed the usual finger to the usual seat.

Sheepishly, Peter sat down. "Sorry, Captain. I was feeling a bit overprotected."

The Captain's face softened a little. "Peter, they are just worried about you. They are your friends remember that and so am I. I would hate for something to happen to my best homicide Detective. " she smiled.

Peter looked out through the door blinds as his friends went about thier work, "I know they worry about me. No more than me them...I would die for any one of you."

The Captain interrupted. "Peter, you would die for a complete stranger."

Peter stood up from the chair. "Captain, I know what happened. Someone doesn't like me very much. It happens. I'll be fine." He turned and reached to open the door. "Don't worry about me. I can look after myself," he said and left with his usual cheeky grin.

The Captain watched him leave. "I hope so, Peter. I hope so."

The nights seemed longer. Peter had put on a brave face in front of the Captain, but the poisoning had unnerved him. Someone had gotten close enough to poison him, and he hadn't felt the danger. Since finishing his training, he had become attuned to things around him, and he usually felt it when things were wrong--but no warning this time. Nothing.

<Pop, what's happening to me?> Peter ran his fingers through his hair. <He can't help you now Peter...Time to stand on your own two feet>

Part Two

Work went on as usual. Everyone started to forget the incident, and life went on. Even Peter began to relax, though he did catch himself looking over his shoulder now and then; would shrug and mentally tell himself off for being paranoid.

The files on Peter's desk, instead of getting smaller, seemed to be multiplying, but that didn't stop Frank from putting more on the pile. Peter leaned back in his chair and smiled. "Jeez, thanks, Frank. Can't wait to see what you've got me for Christmas."

Frank winked and said, "I'll just surprise you, okay?" and walked off.

Peter just laughed and settled back to start again.

There was a sudden commotion at the front desk. A group of young hoods was tackling the uniformed officers and winning. Peter flew from his chair and ran with the other officers to give assistance. The fight was out of hand, and for a while it was hard to see who was who, with the fight being nearly one on one.

Everyone was so intent on the job at hand, no one noticed the stranger who had blended with the rest of the combatants, but whose eyes were totally focused on Peter. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a knife; with a quick flick of his wrist, he struck out at Peter.

Peter felt the blade enter his side just under the rib. He turn to see where the attack had come from, but a fist connected with his jaw. Peter's focus turned to the new attacker as he fought the rising pain. Even as the blood was running down his side, he pushed one of the hoods up against the wall.

Just as suddenly as it had started, the fight was under control.

As the hoods were lead away to the cells, Peter leaned his back against the wall. Closing his eyes, he concentrated on the wound, trying to slow the bleeding, as his father had taught him.

Kermit noticed Peter and walked over to him. Peter had seen him coming and covered his wound with his jacket. "That was fun, huh, Kermit? Must do that again" Peter said, trying to hide the pain he was in.

Kermit looked at his friend and saw the beads of sweat running down his face. "Kid? Are you all right?"

Peter straightened up from the wall and smiled. "Fine. Though I think I might have to go back to Lo Si's for some pointers. I need to work out more, Oh, well, the mountain of files isn't getting any smaller." he said as walked away.

Kermit watched Peter as he walked back to his desk. There was something in the way Peter stepped. Kermit vowed he'd keep on eye on Peter.

Sitting back down at his desk Peter shook his head. <How do I get out of here without any one noticing?> Everyone had just stopped worrying about him after the last attempt on his life, another would put him in the cotton wool department.

Peter felt his side. The wound was still bleeding, though not as bad. But by the looks he was getting, he was looking unwell. He had to get out, get to Lo Si before they realised.

Even Peter had to admit he was starting to feel quite weak. There was no way he was going to get out of here under his own steam, so taking a deep breath, he steadied himself and made his way to Kermit's office.

Kermit heard the knock and turned to see a slightly breathless Peter leaning against the frame of the door. He was about to ask if there was something wrong, when his eyes fell to the red stain that began just near Peter's ribs and had now soaked down to his jeans. " Christ!...Peter..." Kermit called as he jumped up from his seat. He got to Peter just in time to catch him as Peter passed out. "Call 911!" he yelled out to the stunned ballpen.

Peter opened his eyes to find himself staring into the concerned sunglasses of Kermit.

"What the hell were you thinking, Peter? Why didn't you tell us?" Kermit asked, as he held a cloth to to Peter's side stemming the bleeding.

Looking around, Peter saw he was surrounded by the concerned faces of his fellow officers. They all had the same questions written on their faces, but he had only enough energy for a half shrug and feeble excuse " Stupid, Huh." Kermit shook his head " No more than usual kid, no more than usual "

Once Peter was in recovery and a guard placed at his door, the gang decided to meet at Chandlers to discuss the Peter situation, a situation that was rapidly becoming totally out of their control,

Kermit was the first to speak up. " Well, now that the Kid is tucked in for the night, it is up to us to figure out how to protect the little idiot. "

Jody took a sip from her glass. "Protect him from what? From who? we don't have a clue what is going on here" she asked.

Kermit leaned back in his chair. "First thing is from himself. If he could have walked out of the precinct today, without us seeing him, he would have. With Caine and Paul gone we are all Peter has, now if someone wants him dead, they are going to have to get through us, and whether he likes it or not Peter has a shadow

Part Three

Peter lay in the bed feeling just a bit sorry and foolish. Sorry, because it hurt like a bitch, and foolish, because he hadn't been honest with his friends, and they would make him pay and pay and pay. As he moved in the bed, he winced as he tried to get comfortable.

"Hurt, don't it?" A southern voice said.

Peter turned to look at who was talking, and gasped again as his skin twisted a bit. "Yeah, it's not pleasant. Been here yourself, have you?" he gritted through his teeth to the stranger.

"Well, I have had some experience with pain and sufferin'." he said, straightening the bottle-lensed glasses on his nose. "I hear someone stuck ya good," the orderly said, a little too pleasantly, as he went about straightening the room.

Peter looked slightly taken aback, but the man was an orderly. <He's just doing his job and making conversation.> "Not good enough. I'm still here." Peter allowed himself a feeling of triumph .

The orderly stopped what he was doing and stared intently at Peter. "Yeah, ya are. Whatcha think? Do ya think someone had a greater plan for ya, and that's why your still here?" he asked.

Peter looked puzzled. "Like God, you mean?"

The orderly smiled "If that's what you likes to call 'im. I like to think it's the someone that is in us all. We are all God, judges of mankind..." he said. It started to sound like a sermon. He suddenly broke off and continued his straightening of the bed.

Peter rolled his eyes. <Right. Why do I always get these loony tunes?> "You could be right," Peter agreed as he tried to figure out how to end the conversation.

The door opened and Kermit stormed in.

<Oh, God, sermon number two.> Peter was still working out which lecture he would have preferred when he noticed the orderly had gone. <Plan B,> he thought as he winced and slowly moved to the bed, his eyes pleading for understanding.

"I'm not a woman, Kid, so you can drop those puppy dog eyes of yours. That shit doesn't work on me." Kermit said as he paced the room.

Peter saw Kermit take off his glasses and point at him. <Oh, shit! Now I am in trouble.>

"What the hell do you think you were playing at? Jesus, Kid! If that wound had been worse...Damn it. You would have bled to death on my office floor. That doesn't make you brave, it makes you bloody stupid." Kermit slammed his glasses back on.

Peter was sorry for what he had put his friends through. He really hadn't mean to be brave or stupid; he was just tired of people worrying about him. But Kermit's point was taken. "All right, Kermit. I will be more careful, I promise. I'm sorry for worrying all of you," Peter said apologized to Kermit.

Kermit smiled.

Peter knew he wasn't going to like what was coming next.

Kermit walked over to Peter, and leaning down to Peter's level, he said softly, "You will be, my son. You...will...be."

Peter was about to laugh out loud. <Kermit has been watching too much Star Wars.> Then he realised that was something Kermit wouldn't do, and maybe he should be worried, very worried.

"Well, are you ready?" Kermit asked.

Peter went to open his mouth and saw Kermit glare at him. "Yes, Daddy," Peter answered sarcastically.

Jody came up from the rear to hear what was going on. "Oh, this is going to be fun."

Kermit looked at Peter. "Oh yeah," he deadpanned.

Peter was acting like a spoiled child. "Can't you just take me home? I just want to go home. I don't need a safe house. I don't need protection."

Jody turned to Peter in the back seat. "You promised, Peter. You said..."

Peter's eyes dropped and he looked at her through his lashes.

" Don't even go there, Peter," Jody snapped.

Kermit looked at Peter in the rear view mirror. "Kid, you will never learn, will you? You are coming with us, and you are staying with US until it is safe. Got it?"

Peter couldn't let it lie. "I can look after myself," he answered back, starting to get angry.

"Oh, yeah. You have done a great job of that so far." Kermit frowned.

"Damn it, Kermit, I WANT to go home," Peter demanded.

His grumbling was setting Kermit's teeth on edge. Kermit couldn't take it any longer, and the Kermitmobile screeched to a stop.

"Ow," Peter complained from the back seat.

"If you don't stop whining, Peter, I am going to get my gun and finish what your admirer started, and then you won't hurt anymore. Got that?"

Peter nodded. "Okay, okay. Keep your specs on. Sheez, moody."

Kermit shook his head as he looked at Jody, then restarted the car.

Part Four

Over two weeks had gone by, and no one had come near killing Peter, other than Jody and Kermit. Two weeks, even in shifts, with Peter was enough to drive any sane person crazy. In the end though, with no threat obvious to Peter's life, Peter had won.

Kermit was called into the Captain's office. His voice could be heard resounding through the office. "What do you mean, Peter's on his own?" he shouted.

The Captain again tried to explain. "Shut up and sit down, Kermit."

Kermit kept pacing.

"Sit. Now," she ordered.

Kermit sat down, making a face as he did so. "I'm down."

Captain Simms came around to Kermit's side of the desk. He had reminded her of Peter just then. "You know, you have been spending too much time with Peter, Kermit; you are beginning to act like him. Look, Kermit, I personally agree with you: someone is after Peter."

Kermit moved to get up. "Then why...?"

She gestured for him to stay seated. "Personally, I want him protected as much as you, but as a captain, I cannot condone the manpower the protection of Peter is taking."

Kermit started to say something, but she put up her hands to silence him.

"The poisoning, though suspicious, may have been accidental. Unlikely...but possible. The knifing was in the middle of a gang fight in this precinct. We have no proof it was actually meant for Peter. Maybe he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Kermit, the Commissioner has told me to take you off. I'm sorry. I have my orders...But I can't stop you looking out for a friend on your free time."

Kermit got up from his seat and went to the door. "I know it's not your fault, Captain, but I hope this guy, whoever he is, doesn't decide to go after Peter on our rostered days on."

Back at the apartment where they had been keeping Peter, Kermit came bursting through the door.

Jody, caught by surprise, went for her gun, but stopped the motion when she saw it was Kermit. "Damn it, Kermit, I could have shot you," she snapped.

Kermit looked at her through his glasses. "Go ahead. We might as well all have targets on our backs," he shot at her.

Jody realized there was bad news coming. "What happened with Simms?"

Then a voice came from the other room. "Yeah, Kermit, what did happen with Simms?" Peter asked.

Kermit started to pick up the things they had accumulated over the time of their stay. "We have been taken off. You are now officially on your own, Pete."

Peter wasn't sure if he was happy to have his life back, or worried that whoever might be after him was still out there. He chose the former. "Well, I was for a long time, Kermit. On my own, I mean. Life goes on. I'll just go and get my things," he said as he tried to hide the trepidation he was feeling

As Peter began to pack his things clothes into the nightcase, he noticed that his hands had began to shake.Two close calls in a matter of weeks was, enough to weaken the strongest of hearts. If there was anytime he needed Pop it was now, but he was supposed to be a man wasn't he?

He has meant what he had said to Kermit, about being alone, if there was someone after him, he couldn't have his friends in the line of fire.

Peter legs began to weaken and he had to sit down for minute, as the reality struck home, his head dropped into his shaking hands.

Thats where Kermit found him, " You all right Kid? " he asked, as he went sat down near him.

Peter lifted his head to looked at Kermit. Kermit noticed Peter's shaking hands " I'm scared Kermit, I am really scared " he answered, his voice choking " I have fought everything from Sing wah, triads, tongs, and I have never felt as useless as I do now. I don't know when he, they are going to strike, where or how, meanwhile I put you all in danger watching my back "

Kermit slapped Peter on his back " Hey, we are cops, thats what do? Come on grab your things, you don't get away from us that easy. " Peter thought he saw Kermit, wink behind the glasses.

Part Five

Peter tried to get on with his life. He ignored the constant watchful looks he was getting, and came to the realisation this would be the way it was until whoever was after him was caught. His desk was again piled with files, which Frank added to at odd intervals. As another was placed on top, Peter shook his head. "So nice to be back, Chief. I see you missed me." He leaned toward Frank. "What did you do? Hide these 'til I got back? You have been keeping these just for me, haven't you, Frank?" he asked.

Frank bent to be face to face with Peter. "I have a file cabinet where I keep all the cases no one else wants. They have your name on them if you want some more, Detective -- or are you happy?"

Peter sat up in his chair and opened a file. "Happy, Chief. Very, very happy. Ecstatic, even."

"Good to hear," Frank said as walked off, leaving Peter with a month's work to catch up on.

Peter got used to Kermit poking his head around his office doorway with the excuse of stretching his legs, but actually checking to make sure he was still at his desk. This time it was coffee. "Kermit, you are not going to sleep for a week if you drink much more of that." Peter smiled.

Kermit headed back to his office, shrugging. "Who sleeps?" he called.

The day was over and Peter closed the last file on his desk. <Thank God.> Getting up from his seat, he grabbed his coat and started for the doorway. "Hold it," a voice called. "Where the hell do you think you're going?" Kermit called, as he rushed out of his office.

Peter sighed. "Kermit, I don't know about you, but I am tired. If I see another file tonight, I will save whoever it is the trouble and shoot myself. So if you would like to join me, which I am sure you were going to anyway, I am going to Chandler's for a beer. Coming with me, or will you follow at a discreet distance behind?" he asked sarcastically as he walked out. <I definitely need a drink.>

One beer later at Chandler's, Peter had gone out of way not to discuss this situation he found himself in, but Kermit's incessant eye movements as he checked the surroundings were a constant reminder.

Peter felt the need to get some peace. As he rose from his chair, Kermit's eyes questioned him. Peter shook his head. Pointing, he explained, "Little men's room. I think I will be safe in there, Kermit."

As Peter washed his hands, he looked in the mirror. The last few weeks had taken a toll on him. He was sick of the whole thing. His life was no longer his own, and he was sick of it. Turning to the paper dispenser, he heard a noise from behind him. "Kermit, I told..." Peter never got to finish the sentence; darkness overcame him with a painful abruptness.

Kermit waited for Peter to get back. Everyone needs some privacy, but this was ridiculous. Putting his glass down on the table, he walked over to the door which led to the corridor to the lavatory.

Entering the men's room, he called out, "What happened, Kid? Fall down the..." His voice stopped in mid-sentence as he looked at the mirror. The words chilled Kermit to his bones. 'Patience is rewarded, Griffin. Life for a life.'

Part Six

As soon as Kermit read the message, he ran like a madman -- searching through all the rooms, calling Peter's name, knowing that in reality Peter was long gone, and it was all his fault.

Chandler's packed with police officers as the search for Peter began. Forensics went over the message as Kermit paced outside in the corridor.

Captain Karen Simms arrived some ten minutes later, having been called at home with the news of Peter's kidnapping.

As she entered, she saw Kermit, red-faced, yelling at the technician . "What do you mean you don't know? Is it Peter's blood or not?"

The man was backing away slightly as Kermit's intimidating form bore down on him. "I need some time detective Griffin...please," he spluttered.

Karen realised she would have to get Kermit away from the man before he had a nervous breakdown on the spot. "Detective Griffin," Karen called. Kermit still glared at tech, ignoring Karen's voice. She called out again, this time stressing her authority. "Detective Griffin, over here, now," she ordered.

As Kermit looked back at Karen, the tech, let out a sigh of relief, but jumped slightly as Kermit turned back to him.

"Please, as soon as you can. I have to know," he asked more calmly. The tech had relaxed slightly, as he answered, "As soon as possible, Sir "

Kermit walked over to the Captain, who gestured for him to sit down at one of the tables.

As they sat, Terry the bartender brought over two cups of coffee. "Sorry about Peter," he said as he placed the cups in front of Karen and Kermit.

The Captain acknowledge Terry's kind thoughts with a nod, then focused her attentions back to Kermit.

Kermit ignored the coffee as he watched the activity that continued to flow through the doorway where he had last seen Peter. "It's my fault, you know. The attempts on Peter's life, all this, has been my fault. If anything happens to the kid..." Kermit lamented.

Karen leaned over, taking Kermit's hand, trying to reassure him. "It's not your fault, Kermit."

Kermit pulled away his hand. "You saw the mirror. Whoever took Peter, took him to get to me. It's no secret I have known Peter most of his Blaisdell life." Leaning on the table, he took off his glasses so she could see his eyes. "Karen! My close friends, I can count them on one, maybe two, hands. Peter is on the top five. I cannot allow him to die because of me."

The tech came over to the table, not wanting to interrupt, but knowing The detective would want to know. He noticed Kermit slip his glasses back on. "Excuse me, Captain. I thought you would want to know. The blood type...matches Detective Caine's. I'm sorry, Sir, Captain," he said, as he watched Kermit's shoulders sag.

Peter woke to find his view of life slightly one-sided. Half his face felt like it was on fire; he couldn't open his left eye, and what he could see out of his right wasn't promising.

"Hello, Detective Caine. Nice to see you're awake."

Peter tried to focus his good eye on the face belonging to the voice. What he could see, shed no light on his situation. "Do I know you?" he asked the stranger.

The stranger smiled. "No, we have not been properly introduced. Detective Peter Caine, my name is Samuel Baxter, and we have a mutual friend, one Kermit Griffin."

Part Seven

"Kermit? Never heard of him. Oh, you mean that TV frog. Nope, don't know him, but if you're needing a date, maybe Fozzie Bear's free," Peter joked as he struggled against the men and ties that bound him.

Baxter moved closer to Peter and smiled. "Funny man! I like funny men," he spat as he backhanded Peter. The blow connected with the wounded side of Peter's face. "But don't push your luck, Detective. You are a means to an end, nothing more," he explained, wiping the blood off the back of his hand with a handkerchief.

Peter tried to clear the stars that were swimming around his head. "You might as well kill me now. I'm not going to be bait for anyone, and as you have found out, I'm hard to kill."

Baxter moved close to Peter and took his chin in his hand, staring into Peter's eyes. "Is that a dare, Detective Caine? Those attempts were games. Griffin and I used to play a lot of games back in the old days, when we were on the same side -- but that was then. This is now." He realised he was about to give out more information than he wanted.

Peter pulled his head from Baxter's grasp, sending shock waves of pain through his head. "Why me? I don't mean shit to anyone," he asked, trying to catch his breath between each sentence.

"I could have gone after his sister, Marilyn, but she has the luck to be out of the country on vacation. So that left the Blaisdells and you. Now, you are as close as anyone can be to Kermit. Actually, you remind me of his brother, David. That's why you were a perfect tool to use against him. I can just imagine his face when he found you missing right under his nose. Laundry vans are such a cliche, but damn, it still works. They're oldies, but they're goodies." He smirked at what he saw as his own cleverness.

"I told you, he doesn't give a shit about me. He's still a mercenary, like you. You are all cold-hearted bastards; he's no different," Peter snapped, trying to keep Kermit's name and any emotional attachment to Kermit out of his voice.

"So you would have me believe, I'm sure. I know Kermit Griffin -- he always seemed to have a conscience. I am afraid, for your sake, that I do not carry the same burden; I've always found it a total waste of space." He got up and started to pace the room. "Griffin owes me," he snarled ominously. "He owes me big time, and I am afraid, Caine, you're going to be part of the price he's going to pay. Nothing personal, you understand."

Peter, still trying to see clearly out of his good eye, strained to look at Baxter. "Of course, killing someone is always such an impersonal thing," he said sarcastically.

Baxter smiled. "Now, did I say anything about killing you? Damn it! I did, didn't I. Well, what I meant to say was, not yet. We have to send my old friend a message first, and I'm afraid it's going to hurt."

Peter shook his head. "You thought I was the funny one. You should do stand-up."

Baxter gestured to the two men standing against the wall and positioned a video camera as he answered Peter's last remark. "Oh, no, Caine, you're the one going to be doing stand-up -- well, more hang-up," he said as Peter's bound wrists were hung over a hook that was hanging from the ceiling.

Peter grabbed the hook with his hands to get leverage, and kicked out. He was groggy, and even with one bad eye, he was still able to aim. His first kick found a target, and Peter smiled with some satisfaction as one of Baxter's men went crashing against the far wall. Feeling quite pleased with himself, Peter tried again, but the advantage of surprise was gone and his legs were grabbed from behind.

Whoever had hold of Peter pulled on Peter's body with all his weight and muscle. Peter thought his arms were going to break at the sockets. The pain was unbearable as his hands lost their grip and the full force of the pressure hit his arms. As he tried to breath through the pain, he felt his legs being tied.

"You are a man of surprises, Caine. I will have to make sure we don't underestimate you again -- though I think by the time I am finished with you, I won't have much to worry about. You see, Caine, I am very good at what I do," Baxter boasted as he rolled up his shirt sleeves and made his way from behind the camera. "Lights. Camera. Action. Smile, Caine. You're on candid camera."

Part Eight

The Precinct was quiet, except for the conversations as officers stood in small groups discussing Peter's disappearance. The talk fell to whispers as Kermit stormed in, heading straight to his office and slamming the door behind him.

Mary Margaret, Jody, and Captain Simms weren't far behind, and were in time to hear the noise of the door banging.

Mary Margaret turned back to the Captain, a worried look spreading across her face. "Shouldn't we go and talk to him? He thinks this is all his fault."

"I'll talk with Kermit. You go and check with forensics and see if they've come up with anything else. There is not much else we can do, except wait," she sighed.

"Wait! How can we be expected to just stand around and..." Jody cried.

" Wait? What do you suggest we do, Jody? Until they contact us, there's not a damn thing we can do about it," Karen said with anger rising in her voice.

Karen made her way to Kermit's office and apprehensively knocked on his door. Receiving no answer, she let herself in.

"I'm busy," Kermit snapped.

Karen made herself comfortable in the chair in front of Kermit. "I am your captain. Guess who's staying?" Kermit never lifted his head from the computer. Karen wondered how to handle this volatile man. He was an unknown. His silence on his past and his privacy with his present made it hard for her to get to know him. "Right now, Kermit, I'm not your captain; I'm your friend."

Kermit never looked up from the screen. "I don't want any more friends. They have a habit of getting killed because of me."

"That's a huge exaggeration, Kermit, and feeling sorry for yourself is not going to help Peter." Getting up from the chair, Karen leaned over the desk so Kermit couldn't miss or ignore her. "When you are ready to help the rest of us get Detective Caine back, come and see me."

Karen was in her office when a knock interrupted her thoughts. "Come in," she called, and wasn't surprised when Kermit made his way into her office.

Kermit ran his hand through his hair as he bit the bullet. "Okay, you were right. But I did use my tantrum time to good use. Called some friends of mine. I think I know who has Peter, and it is not good news."

Karen leaned back in her chair and listened.

Kermit took a deep breath. He didn't like talking about his past, but this was more important than his loss of face. "Karen, I have done some things that I am not proud of and some that I am. This man," he said with disgust as he threw a photo on the desk, "I am proud to say, I left behind to rot in jail in one of those nameless countries on one of my nameless jobs. I never left anyone behind before or since, but for him I made an exception. I watched this man...this animal...kill women and children without a second thought. He enjoyed it."

Karen got up from her chair, her face suddenly pale. "You're saying this...person...has Peter. "

"I am saying, I left this bastard to rot in a hell hole, on purpose, and I have been told he is back in the country and he is looking for me. So what do you think?"

Karen looked at the face that stared from the photo and didn't like what she saw. "So what do we do?"

Kermit's face fell as he looked away. "Pray Peter is strong enough to stay alive until we can find him."

Part Nine

As Kermit opened the door to his apartment, he pulled his Desert Eagle from under his jacket. Something wasn't right. Walking slowly and carefully, he checked out the apartment. Nothing. But he knew someone had been there. He was about to recheck everything when something caught his eye.

Making his way over to his television set, he tore off the note that had been put there for his attention. It had one simple word -- 'play' -- written on it. Kermit looked at the VCR and saw the red light flashing. A tape had been loaded since he was last here. He knew this had something to do with Peter, and he apprehensively pushed the button.

Kermit's vision was assaulted by a close-up of Peter's face, one eye all bloodied and swollen shut. "Jesus, Kid! What have they done to you? " Kermit moved closer to the screen, trying to make out every detail, trying to be sure that Peter wasn't too badly hurt, that he was breathing.

Suddenly a voice called to Peter. "Tell Griffin you would like to see him, Caine," the voice commanded.

Kermit watched, stunned, as Peter glared at the person, as he struggled against the two men holding him. "Told you to go to hell. He's no friend of mine."

A lash flew through the air, and Kermit flinched as landed against Peter's back.

Kermit watched as Peter's face paled, his mouth rigidly closed, stopping any sound of pain from escaping.

"Shit," Kermit gasped, as he stepped back from the set. He realised they weren't finished with Peter yet. Kermit's legs suddenly went weak, and he partially fell to coffee table.

The disembodied voice asked again, "Tell Griffin you need his help."

Peter stubbornness which had brought him undone more than once again reared as his determination to keep his friend away set in, " You deaf? I said go to hell. " he spat.

The lash latched on to his back, like an electric eel. Setting Peter's skin was on fire, as it attacked again and again.

All through this Kermit had heard the voice demanding Peter's obedience, and watched as Peter refused the command.

For one brief moment Kermit and Peter's open eye locked, as if, even through the lens Peter could see him there, watching, knowing. But the flesh destroyer returned and the moment was lost as Peter dropped his head, trying to spare the viewer, the agony, that he knew would be etched on his face.

This went on until Peter's back resembled a bloodied road map, but he still would not give in.

Kermit rage grew with each pain of Peter's torture. Rage; not only with the people that were doing this, but with Peter. "For Christ's sake, Kid, say what he wants. Damn it, just say it!" he cried helplessly at the screen.

The voice decided to come out into the open, and Kermit glared at the face that smiled at him from the other side of the television set.

"What can I say, Griffin? You know how to pick 'em. This boy's strong. How strong is another matter altogether. I learned some fascinating things while I was away, Griffin, and I intend to teach this boy all of them. Don't worry; I'm not going to kill him straight away -- that's no fun -- but I will get bored. So you'd better hurry and find me and help this kid, or...there won't be much left to help."

Peter looked up glaring at purveyor of his pain "I don't need anyone's help." Then, looking into the camera, he spoke directly to the camera, to Kermit "You understand me, Griffin. You come anywhere near me, and I will never forgive you. You hear me? Never!" he promised, he voice breaking, with the pain and emotion. Kermit, saw a tear slip down, Peter's check, as another blow struck.

"It's funny, I said nearly the same thing when you left me in that hell. Well, your friend is going to suffer the same fate you left me to, if you don't find us. Now, if you will excuse me, it's time for another lesson. School's in session." He smiled as the screen went black.

Kermit sat in the darkness, breathless at the violence that was being forced on Peter, and all because of him.

Part Ten

Peter was trying to breathe, but his body was reluctant to obey. Everything hurt, and he knew it wasn't over. It wouldn't be over until he and Kermit were dead. He tried to keep himself calm, tried to figure a way out of this mess, but his brain would only register the pain.

Peter looked around. They had left him alone. No wonder -- in his condition, he was no threat. He put his still-tied hands down on the floor and tried to lever himself up. The pain in his arms and shoulders was agony, and his back was on fire, but he persevered and won the battle for a sitting position.

Peter closed his eyes -- well, one eye; the left one he hadn't been able to open for hours. He tried to lean against the wall, but his back screamed its refusal at that idea. Instead, he stayed in a hunched sitting position. He looked down at his wrists; the ropes had worn through his skin, and they had begun to bleed. That didn't stop Peter from stretching the ropes, just like his father had shown him.

~Flashback~

Peter struggled with the bonds that tied his hands

behind his back. " Why do I have to learn this, Father? I

don't think I am ever going to be tied up like this."

His father smiled. "It is best to be prepared for any

eventuality, is it not?" he explained.

Peter was still struggling as his father stood and

watched. "Why can't I just use a knife? " he asked, rather

sensibly, he thought.

He had watched as his father laughed. "A worthwhile

suggestion, my son, but this is for the times when a knife

is not at hand. "

~end of flashback~

Peter partially smiled at the memory. He had been so young and naive. But he still would do anything for a knife. As he struggled, each movement of his arms was like razor blades in his shoulders and back. Sweat began to run down his face, but he kept trying. His life depended on it.

Meanwhile, outside the building where Peter struggled for freedom, Baxter waited. He didn't have to wait long, as a car pulled in through the gates. Baxter walked over to the car as it pulled over and parked, and waited as the back passenger window rolled down.

"Well?" The voice in the car enquired from the shadows.

Baxter smiled. "Everything is going just as we planned. Griffin is going to be chasing his tail looking for Caine. He will be too busy to notice anything else."

"He better be," the voice answered. " We can't afford any mistake. That includes you getting carried away with Caine. I need him alive...for now."

Baxter's smile became sinister. "For now. But the agreement still stands? I get Griffin -- and Caine, as a bonus."

"I don't care what you do with either of them after this is all over. And, Baxter --" the face moved into the light " -- try not to enjoy your job so much." The speaker nodded to the driver and the car drove off.

Baxter laughed as he called after the moving car, "This isn't a job, Stiles. Its' a damn vocation!" Still laughing, he made his way back inside.

Peter worked loose the ropes on his wrists and then his legs, but his body refused to move. The last few weeks had cost Peter's body dearly. His strength was nearly exhausted. As he tried to stand, his legs refused to cooperate; all strength had left them, leaving them like rubber.

Peter noticed a chair standing not far from him, though in his condition it seemed to be on the other end of the Earth. Taking a deep breath, he dragged himself slowly and painfully to it. By the time he reached the seat, he felt like cheering; it felt as though he had just climbed Mount Everest. Every movement to pull himself up was pain and agony, but the victory was sweet -- even when he found himself standing on shaking legs. He was about to make his way to the door when it was opened from the other side.

Baxter appeared from the other side, looking at the ropes that lay abandoned on the floor and then at the teetering Peter. Shaking his head, he walked toward Peter. He smiled as he rubbed his chin. "You are indeed a man of surprises, Caine. I have played all my little tricks on you. You just won't give up, will you?" he said as he came close. "But you are not looking too well. Maybe you need to sit down." Grabbing Peter by what was left of his shirt, he picked him up and threw him against the wall.

Peter felt the impact, then nothing, as his unconscious body slid down the wall.

Baxter smiled with some satisfaction at his handy work, turning to one of the men. "Tie him up. Make it tight this time, and stay with him. I don't trust the little shit," he ordered as he stormed from the room.

Part Eleven

How long Kermit had been sitting in the dark, he didn't know. As he stared at the TV screen that played a monotonous tone of static, all he knew was the anger that was festering into rage, rage toward the inhuman animal that held the life of his friend -- held it, played with it, and eventually would destroy it.

Kermit slowly raised himself from the table and walked over to the window. Staring out, his eyes scanned the city lights. <Hold on, Kid. Wherever you are, hold on.>

The noise from the disregarded TV set became an irritating reminder of what he had seen. Picking up the nearest thing he could reach, he vented his anger by throwing at the set, with all his strength, a glass paper weight. "Damn you, Baxter! I am going to rip your heart out with my bare hands!" he raged at the broken and smoking set.

Kermit looked at the damage he had done, shaking his head. He was about to clean it up when there was a faint knock at the door. Pulling out his Desert Eagle once again, he walked to the door. Looking through the spy hole, he was greatly surprised. Kermit opened the door. "Lo Si, what..." His question was silenced as others stepped into view.

"Well, are you going to invite us in, or shall we discuss our business out here in the hallway?" Rykker said as he moved past Kermit.

Kermit watched, astounded and confused, as Lo Si and Rykker were followed by Steadman and Master Khan. Kermit looked left and right down the hallway, then closed the door. "Anyone else? Rambo, perhaps? Lo Si, what's going on?" He struggled to keep his cool and calm exterior intact.

"Young Caine is in trouble, is he not?" Lo Si answered.

"How did you...? Forget I asked that. I'll get him back, Lo Si," he promised himself out loud, as he put his gun back in its holster.

Steadman interrupted. "Didn't like the programme?" he asked as he tapped his cane against the television.

"Never did like those nature programs. Too much violence. Okay, now we have worked out my viewing preferences. I know who you all are. What I don't know is what you are all doing here in my apartment," Kermit demanded.

Rykker took the job of spokesman. "We are here for Peter Caine, nothing else. He is a strange kid, overly fond of guns, but we kind of got used to him -- and if you repeat that to anyone, we will deny we said it and then we would have to kill you."

"Okay," Kermit said as he paced the room. "And I know why Lo Si and Master Khan are here. What I want to know is how you found out about Baxter," Kermit questioned his visitors.

"Griffin, we may be old, but we are not dead, and we still have friends in the Company. You were part of the Company at one time; you know how it used to work," Rykker explained.

"Used to?" Kermit asked, curious as to where this was leading.

Steadman continued the story. "A friend has been warning us for a while now of changes inside the Company -- changes that somehow involve the Caine family. When we received word over the grapevine about the attacks on young Caine, we thought we would come and see if we could help. But, as you see, we got here too late."

Kermit shook his head, running his hand through his hair as he tried to work out the puzzle that was being laid in front of him. "What are you saying? The Company knows about this? And what does Baxter have to do with this?"

"Definitely knew, maybe orchestrated, and most likely sanctioned. As for your friend, Baxter was helped out of the fun house you left him in by the Company. Not surprisingly, they have made use of of him -- though they would deny it, of course," Rykker answered as he walked around the room.

Kermit cut off Rykker's explanation. " Why is the Company so interested in Peter and Caine? Why the attacks on them? If you're right, why haven't they just killed Peter? Why the song and dance over the last few weeks?" Kermit was now more confused than ever.

Rykker spelled it out for Kermit. "A lot of questions, very few answers. With Caine out of town, they mostly thought: imperil the son, the father comes to his rescue. As for the attacks, I do believe that Baxter thought up those games to make you squirm, and I'd say, by the look of your television set, it worked."

Kermit turned to Lo Si. "So, where is Caine while all this is going on?" he asked a little angrily.

"Caine is unwell. He was attacked on his way back to his son," Lo Si explained.

Kermit felt bad. He should have known that Caine would never leave his Peter when he was in so much pain and trouble. "How is he?" He was now more worried than ever. If they could take Caine out, what hope did Peter have?

Rykker answered for the Ancient. "He has been taken were he will be safe, but he is too weak to travel. Our problem now is, when they realise Caine isn't coming for his son, whoever is behind this will cut his losses and kill Peter or disappear with him. The only thing we have going for us is you, Griffin. Baxter's hatred of you should keep the kid alive, at least until he gets his hands on you. Feel like being the sacrificial goat?" Rykker asked.

Kermit straightened his suit as he smiled. "Oh, yeah."

Part Twelve

It was dark and the docks were empty as the car pulled over. Its light flashed once and went out. Out of the darkness a light returned the flash, and then joined its conspirator in the blackness. A well-suited man stepped from one of the cars, pulling on a coat against the cold of the night, and walked over to the edge of the dock, where he waited.

He was soon joined by the occupant from the other car. "Mr. Stiles, my employer would like to be assured that our package is still in reasonable condition."

Stiles looked past the flunky that stood before him to the car where he knew his unknown benefactor would be sitting. He would be sitting in prison still if it hadn't been for this unknown entity, who had always kept his identity closeted from him. That had been the deal. For their help, and for his freedom, he would have made a deal with the devil himself; at times he felt he had. Stiles reset his thoughts back to the man in front of him and answered his question. "It may be damaged, but it is still breathing. What about the parent package?" he enquired.

The messenger pulled up the collar of his coat against the cold. "That package has gone missing in transit. Until delivered, we would be very upset if something happened to the smaller parcel. We would like the postmaster to make sure he handles it carefully; it was marked breakable."

Stiles smiled. "Well. if that's the way you felt, you shouldn't have picked that particular mail service. He does tend to enjoy his work." He chose to not let on that he was not at all worried about what Baxter did to Peter Caine, as long as he was breathing until this job was done.

"Well, until the other package gets here, make sure he doesn't enjoy it too much. We need both packages."

Stiles never like Peter Caine; he and his father had showed him up more than once, as well as being instrumental in putting him in gaol over his Blaisdell set-up. <Damn kid. Everything would have been perfect if it wasn't for Blaisdell's brat.> As Stiles listened to this man's concern over Peter's Caine's health, he couldn't help but be a little curious as to the real agenda here. <Though if I had my way, Peter Caine would be dead already. Damn, clever-arsed show pony. I should have given the order to shoot to kill at that bus. I would have, if I could have got away with it.>

"You listening?" the voice asked, breaking into Stiles' thoughts. "I said, it's imperative that the younger Caine lives until we have his father. You understand?"

Meanwhile, from a building rooftop not far away, Kermit pointed audio radar equipment toward the two unrecognisable figures as he taped the conversation. As soon as he heard Stiles' name mentioned, Kermit's anger burned with a renewed flame. Turning to the others who shared the rooftop with him, he glared. "Well, your informant was correct, though Stiles is the surprise catch of the day. You just earned your first day's wage."

"You paying?" Steadman asked.

Kermit glared down at the scene below, and threatened, "Yeah, in blood." The more he heard, the angrier he became. "Stiles, you scum-sucking slug, I'm going to shove that traitorous tongue of yours so far down your throat you'll be able to lick your colon," Kermit swore out loud.

Rykker overheard Kermit's remarks and smiled. <Damn! I like this guy.>

Part Thirteen

Feeling it was unsafe for them to go back to Kermit's, they made their way to the back room of the gym where Khan worked. It was the last place anyone would look, or so they hoped. The video and sound they had gotten at the dock didn't prove much, other than that Stiles was a rat of the lowest order and that maybe Peter was still alive, if they were lucky.

Kermit set about wearing a line in the floorboards, pacing the room. "Well, the sooner the better," he said, walking impatiently to the door. Master Khan stepped in front of the door, stopping Kermit from leaving. Kermit swung around, glaring at Rykker and Steadman. "I thought this was decided. Sacrificial goat, remember?" He pointed to his chest as he tried to move past Khan, but Khan stood his ground. Before anything else could be said, there was a knock at the door. Kermit pulled his Desert Eagle and stood behind the door as Master Khan answered it. After a short conversation with the visitor, Master Khan turned back to the others and asked quietly, "Did someone order a pizza?"

"What sort?" Rykker asked nonchalantly. Kermit was ready for anything but that.

Master Khan spoked to the delivery man for a moment. " Ah...lasagne, with double onions," he answered.

Rykker smiled. "Well, I am a touch hungry? What about you, Steadman?" Steadman nodded in agreement. "Master Khan, would you please pay the man?" Rykker ignored Kermit's stunned expression.

Khan reached his arm around the corner of the door, holding his hand out toward Kermit.

Kermit looked puzzled. "What?" Then, realising Khan needed money, he shook his head. "When are you Shaolin priests going to learn to carry the green stuff?" he said as reached into his pocket and handed Khan money.

Master Khan put the pizza on the table in front of Rykker and stepped back. As Kermit was reholstering his weapon, Rykker opened the lid and took out the steaming pizza. Kermit watched amazed as he pulled the bottom up and eased a plastic-covered envelope from underneath.

Kermit couldn't believe it. "Why do I suddenly hear the theme to The Man from U.N.C.L.E.?" as he watched, stunned, as Lo Si picked up a piece of pizza and took a bite.

"You have not seen a Shambhala master eat before?" Lo Si asked, when he saw the look on Kermit's face.

Kermit replied, "Have I seen one eat pizza? No, I haven't." Turning his attention back to Rykker, he saw he had taken some sort of blueprints out of the envelope.

"Well, Griffin, looks like your sacrifice has been called off," Rykker spoke as he studied the papers.

"What has he sent us?" Steadman asked Rykker as the both scanned the papers.

"Blueprints to the old gaol just out of town. That's where Davis is betting they're holding..." Rykker's mobile rang cut into their conversation. Rykker's face fell as he listened to the news. As he hung up, he remarked, "We have to move faster than we expected." Turning to Steadman, Rykker said, "Davis is dead, apparent suicide in his office."

"That's means they are on to us," Steadman stated.

"Then what are we waiting for?" Kermit was already on his way to the door.

Part Fourteen

Peter didn't know how long he had been out, but he did know, as long as he played possum, new pains weren't inflicted on his already abused body. He wanted to move, he wanted to breath, without everything hurting. He was about to make himself a little more comfortable, when he heard footsteps coming nearer. Believing if he stayed still they would have no reason to attack him again, Peter closed his eyes and feigned unconsciousness.

Baxter entered the room. Walking over to Peter, he rolled him over. Seeing him seemingly out of it, he turned to one of his men and gestured toward Peter. "He's still out, Randall. I want you to get him ready to move. It seems someone found out about us and our little home away from home."

<Great. Road trip,> Peter thought.

"What about the priest? We haven't got him yet," one of Baxter's men asked.

Baxter looked down at Peter, his eyes suddenly questioning the still form. Then, without warning, he pulled back his foot and sent it forcefully into Peter's ribs.

The force of Baxter's foot as it connected with Peter's body, and the pain as his ribs broke, caused Peter to cry out in agony. Peter was still trying to catch his breath as Baxter pulled him up from the floor and slammed him against the wall. Peter sucked in what breath he had left as the pain of his back injuries hit home.

Baxter was using all his force to hold Peter up against the wall as Peter struggled to balance on his tied legs. All the while, stars were floating in and out of Peter's vision. Moving his face within inches of Peter's, Baxter snarled at him, "You were playing possum with me, Caine."

Peter tried to bring up his tied hands to push Baxter away, but his arms would move only an inch. "My father...Is that what this is all about...Nothing to...do with me...or Ker...Griffin?" Peter managed to gasp out.

Baxter smiled. "It has everything to do with you and Griffin. My job, is to dispose of you and your father. Griffin? He is my pleasure, though I don't want you to feel I didn't have fun. On the contrary, you have been a very entertaining guest."

Peter's anger tried to override the pain, tried to move him from Baxter's grasp. "My father...won't come...after...me," he lied.

"Well, on that you may just be right, but maybe after we start sending bits and pieces of you to him, he may change his mind and try and rescue his little boy." Each failed attempt by Peter to break free of his grasp only seemed to amuse Baxter more.

Then, seemingly growing tired of the game, Baxter swung his arm and a fist slammed into Peter's face, knocking him to the ground. Again Peter didn't move, and this time he wasn't faking.

Baxter gave Peter's body a push with his foot.

As his victim's laboured breath rattled through the empty room, one of Baxter's men reacted. "Jesus! Baxter, he doesn't sound too good. You've nearly killed him. We are under orders to keep him alive, if only for now. Fun is fun, but I don't like our chances if we blow this." Randall warned as he checked Peter's pulse.

"Well, he is alive, isn't he? Just get him ready to move." As Baxter went to leave, he turned back to Randall. " We are just delaying the inevitable." He walked from the room laughing. "Damn! I hope I get that job."

Part Fifteen

"Baxter" a voice called from down the hallway. "There's a car coming up the drive."

Baxter had just left Peter's room, and according to the last message he'd gotten, he wasn't to expect any visitors. "Well, be prepared -- prepared for anything," he said as he went to greet their visitor.

By the time he got to the doorway he was surprised to find Kermit standing near his car. Ignoring Kermit, Baxter turned to one of his men and asked, "Have you checked him for weapons, bugs, anything he could use as a weapon? I wouldn't trust this guy as far as I can spit."

The man standing nearest to Kermit nodded. "He's clean."

Baxter savoured the sight of his old comrade in arms. "Long time no see, Griffin. I do hope you didn't do anything stupid, like bring anyone with you?" he asked as he walked down the steps to meet him.

Baxter circled Kermit, looking him up and down as he did so. " Well, life has been good to you, Griffin. Better than it was to me."

Kermit glared at Baxter. "If you're looking for a shoulder to cry on, I pass. I don't regret one thing about you, except for the fact that you were born. You've gotten everything you deserved. Now where's Caine?"

"Well, I have a lot regrets when it comes to you, Griffin, and if this was all personal, I would make you feel each one." Baxter moved closer, removing Kermit's glasses.

Kermit didn't try to stop him, but anger festered deep inside. His only thoughts were for the safety of Peter and the plan to rescue him.

"I can see the hate in your eyes, Griffin, for what I have done to your friend, but that is nothing to the hate I have in my heart for you." Dropping Kermit's glasses, Baxter smashed them underfoot. "You want to see your friend, follow me. The rest of you keep watch out at the perimeter."

Baxter meet Randall outside the room where Peter was being held. "Have you moved him yet?" Baxter asked.

Kermit didn't wait for permission. He pushed past Randall, and stopped dead as he saw the damage that Baxter had caused. For one moment, Kermit wanted to turn, feel his bare hands around Baxter's neck. He wanted to feel Baxter's life, his pulse, as it began to slow. He wanted to let him breathe just for a moment, then cut off his air again, and feel the pulse as it stopped.

But what he wanted at this moment wasn't important. All that did matter was Peter. Kermit glared at Baxter before he moved quickly to Peter's side. For a moment his hands didn't know where to touch; everything looked bloodied and broken.

Kermit carefully took hold of Peter,gently lifted his shoulders from the bare floor, and laid him on his lap.

"Hey, Kid, up to your neck in it again, I see." Kermit's eyes followed each bruise, each cut, each pain. He had to force down his rage, keeping his voice light and free of the fear he felt for his friend's life.

Peter could hear something, but it was far away, lost in the midst of pain. Forcing himself through the black curtain of darkness, his vision blurred and then focused. Every breath bit at his chest, and urged him to go back to the painless oblivion he had just left.

"Kermit?" he whispered. "I...told you...not to...come... don't...need..." He stopped, gasping for air.

Kermit held on to his friend, trying not to touch any hurt area. "Kid, you think I would let you have all this fun without me, especially when the party was held in my honour?" He glared up at Baxter, then softened his expression as he saw Peter looking up at him. "Hey, remember that poem your father used to tell you, the one about the Dragonswing? You just hold on to that, and everything will be all right, Kid." Kermit smiled.

Peter smiled back. "Dragonswing...Pop's favourite. I needed...that..." He gasped as the darkness pulled its comforting blanket over him again.

Part Sixteen

Rykker watched as Kermit drove up the driveway, and couldn't help but worry as Kermit disappeared into the building with Baxter. This had not been the plan, but Kermit would not be dissuaded; he was going in to make sure Peter was still alive. He knew -- well, part of him -- that it was not his fault Peter was taken, but his guilt about Peter's torture at the hands of Baxter had strengthened his resolve to work from the inside, beside Peter, where he belonged.

Kermit carefully maneuvered Peter, gently laying him on the floor. Kermit felt Peter's pulse, finding it erratic. The anger he had been struggling to control suddenly erupted.

Baxter didn't have time to blink as Kermit grabbed him, slamming him so hard against the wall that Kermit thought he heard Baxter's teeth rattle. "You son of a bitch! Couldn't come after me, could you? No! I should have killed you, long time ago," he spat. "I am going to slam my fist so hard into your face, I'll be able to finger paint with your blood on the other side," Kermit warned as he drew back his arm.

Kermit suddenly stopped in mid-swing, as the cold touch of steel tapped at the back of his neck. " Uhuhuh! Unless you want us to see your IQ splattered alongside your artwork, I'd back off, froggie," Randall warned.

Kermit realised he had let his anger overrule his reason. <Okay, calm, Griffin. No wonder Rykker thought this was a bad idea.> Kermit took a deep breath as he dropped the flustered Baxter with an openhanded surrendering gesture.

Turning around, Kermit ignored the gun that was still pointing at him. He leaned his face into Randall's, until they were only an inch apart, and glared "The name's Griffin...Mr. Griffin to you, sunshine. A name I promise you're not going to forget," he promised.

Baxter's legs had stopped shaking, and with the emergence of Randall and a weapon, his bravado returned. Walking the few steps, he stood before Kermit "Finished belly-bustin'? I have a half a mind..."

"I think you're being over-generous there, Baxter. Pea-brained is more like it," Kermit interrupted as he baited Baxter.

Baxter struck out at Kermit. The force should have knocked him to the floor; instead, Kermit stumbled but steadied himself. "Is that the best you've got?" Kermit tempted Baxter, as he wiped a small trickle of blood from his lip.

Baxter smiled. "Give me time, Griffin. I have to recover. I did employ a lot of energy on your friend over there." His smiled broadened as he saw Kermit's hand ball into a fist; he had gotten the reaction he wanted.

Kermit had to play for time, give Rykker and the others time to do their part. "What the hell's going on? Just let the kid go. You have me. Isn't that what you wanted?"

Baxter shook his head. "Wish that I could. I hate excess baggage. But he's needed for another reason, and until he's fulfilled that purpose, he can only be my little cat toy. I should sell tickets; it's going to be so much more fun with you watching. I always do better with an audience."

Peter picked that moment to let a moan escape. Kermit started to go to him, when Baxter grabbed hold of his arm. "Don't let him get too comfortable. We have some traveling to do, and you just bought a ticket."

Kermit shrugged free of his grip and ignored him as he went to Peter's side. "How ya doin', Kid?" he asked as he got comfortable on the floor beside Peter.

"Well, I...been better. Kermit, they...Pop?" he tried to explain through ragged breaths.

Kermit patted a undamaged part of Peter's shoulder and, leaning in a bit closer, he whispered, "It's okay, Kid. He's safe." Kermit felt A relieved breath leave Peter's body. "Now all we have to do is rescue ourselves."

Part Seventeen

Rykker and Lo Si sat waiting for Steadman and Khan to finish laying the charges, watching for any movements coming from the outside the building, but all was quiet. Rykker still couldn't believe they had given in to Griffin's request, but he had to admit the man could be very persuasive.

Rykker heard a noise and pulled his weapon.

"Only us," Steadman's voice called quietly. "And we have picked up a traveler. He seems to be looking for the same person we are."

As Rykker saw Kwai Chang Caine, he shook his head and he walked over to him. "Caine, we left you out of harm's way for a reason. These people want you and your son dead. They nearly succeeded with you. What are you thinking?" Rykker tried reasoning with him.

"I am thinking that they did not succeed with me, but they still may with my son. That is why I am here. "

Rykker looked at Lo Si, who also greeted the new arrival. "Kwai Change Caine, you are still not well."

Caine walked into view, bowing to them both. "I am well enough, thank you, Master." Looking toward the old prison, Caine closed his eyes and focused. "Kermit will try and protect him, but Peter is weak. We need to get to him as soon as possible. Can you do that for me, Rykker?...Can you get me to my son?" he asked his old friend.

"That's what I came for, Caine. Then I do believe, we will be even," Rykker said, bowing to Caine.

"In fact it will be I who owes you, if you can help me to save Peter."

Rykker shook his head. "Why can't things ever even out with you? Priests!"

Peter was still moving in and out of the darkness. Each time, the ache would last a little longer, would stab at him a little more painfully. In his darkness, he heard a voice, calling to him to come back; each time he refused, not wanting the pain waking would bring. But the voice was familiar, comforting in its words, and he believed what it was saying.

"Kermit?" Peter looked from where he lay to find his friend's face hovering above him. "Kermit, where're your glasses?"

Kermit smiled. "Unbelievable, Kid. You are nearly beaten beyond recognition, and you're worried about my glasses."

" Hey, my face will heal...Kerm, you really...need...the glasses," he joked, emphasising the word 'need'. As Peter tried to get comfortable, he suddenly gasped, a pain shooting through his chest.

"Kid, what is it?" Kermit tried to hold Peter as the pain surged through his body, causing Peter to go rigid as he tried to ride it out.

Peter's body relaxed as the pain subsided. "Remind me not to move. Damn! It hurts like a bitch." Peter tried to control his breathing as his body came alive with pins and needles of pain. "That friend of yours is good," he hissed through his teeth.

Kermit's body flexed at the mention of Baxter. "He's no friend of mine, Kid. The sooner he's removed from this mortal coil, the better -- and I want to be the one who pulls the trigger."

"Stand in line, Kermit." Peter closed his eyes, and became quiet.

<How much is this kid supposed to take?> Kermit thought. He was surprised to see Peter open his good eye and smile.

Peter kept smiling as he looked toward Randall, who still kept watch over them. "I was just dreaming of the dragonswing. It was beautiful, Kermit. It had a head and four wings and now, now it has grown a Shambhala tail."

"Shambles? Sham...what's the idiot yappin' about?" Randall demanded as he moved closer to hear what they were talking about.

"Can't you see he's rambling? He's speaking of a kid's story his father used to tell him," Kermit spat back.

Randall looked down at Peter as he lay on floor, now moaning and tossing his head from side to side for effect. "Well, keep him quiet, or I'll have to do it for ya."

Kermit waited until Randall moved off a bit before leaning down to Peter and asking, "Are you going to be ready, Kid?"

"I was born ready," Peter whispered back.

Kermit shook his head. "That was a terrible John Wayne."

Peter painful wrapped his arms around his aching chest. "Damn it Kermit, I was going for Audie Murphy, Red Badge of Courage type. You know: brave...but deep down....scared shitless."

Part Eighteen

The guard was alert, as he had been warned to be, but he didn't see or hear anything, nor did he feel anything as Caine's fingers went to his neck. He dropped without a sound.

Rykker looked at the prone man. "You have to teach me that trick, Caine.." Then he saw that the man was still breathing. "Never mind. It's of no use to me if they can get up." He shrugged as they continued their search.

On the other side of the building, Khan and Lo Si dispatched adversaries in the same silent manner. "You have not lost your touch, Master," Khan said after another man went down.

Lo Si smiled, his hands clasped in front of him. "I...work out."

Baxter came in. Looking over at Kermit and Peter, he whispered into Randall's ear. "Okay, guys," he said, turning to the two cops. "Time to leave our little love nest, Detective Caine. Aaah, so many memories, and so many more for us to make together." He laughed sadistically.

Kermit made a move to jump up, but Randall pulled his gun and pointed it at Peter. "We're moving. Stall, and I will kill Caine. Cause me trouble, and I will kill Caine. Understand orders or no, press me, I will put a bullet between his eyes. Now get him up," he ordered Kermit.

"You can't expect him..." Kermit protested.

Baxter nodded to Randall, who moved forward.

"Okay, give me a minute," Kermit snapped, leaning over to Peter. "Sorry, Kid. Take a deep breath; this is going to smart." Kermit tried to hold Peter where he wouldn't hurt, but that was nearly impossible. He gently pulled Peter up from the floor.

Peter tried to hold it in, not wanting to give Baxter the satisfaction, but the pain tore into him and the sound escaped, against all his willpower. Gasping for breath, Peter leaned on Kermit. "Okay, 'smarts' was a bit of an understatement," Peter panted.

"Okay, Griffin, move," Baxter ordered.

Kermit put his arm around Peter's waist and tried to move with him. "No, just you, Griffin. You walk ahead of us. Just in case you get any ideas, remember your friend and I will be walking behind you. He goes first," Baxter warned Kermit.

Baxter gave Peter a shove. Peter stumbled and fell forward, but Kermit was quicker and caught him. "You arsehole! He won't make it on his own. He's walking with me; I don't care what you say."

They made their way slowly down the hallway, Kermit holding the shuffling Peter, down whose face sweat dripped as the pain worsened with each step.

<Peter, it is time. I am not far behind you.>

Peter wasn't sure what to expect, but knowing the dragonswing, it would be loud.

Right on cue, Steadman switched on his controls. "I love this bit."

The explosion shot the parked car up into the air, landing it upside down on its roof. One of Baxter's men came running towards the noise, only to meet Khan; before he could raise his weapon, Khan's leg kicked out and the man dropped like a stone. Khan slightly bowed to the downed man, then continued on his way.

Randall, who had gone ahead, heard the outside explosion and started to head back toward Baxter, when he was grabbed from behind.

Rykker locked his arm around Randall's neck and pulled. With a snap, Randall fell dead to floor, his neck broken. "Now, that's how you do it, Caine." Looking around, he found himself talking to thin air.

Baxter jumped at the sound of the explosion and glared at Kermit. "You bastard! I should have known. Now your friend is going to pay."

Kermit grabbed Peter, and threw him against the wall; the bullet that had been meant for Peter hit Kermit, passing through his shoulder. Kermit flinched, but stood his ground, waiting for the next strike -- but it never came.

Caine had left Rykker and had hoped to get to his son before Baxter could exact any revenge. As the explosion discharged, he came across another of Baxter's men, and the ensuing fight slowed his advance. Caine heard the gunshot as he turned the corner and saw Kermit covering Peter with his body.

Baxter was intent on the two people in front of him. He didn't see Caine coming up behind him. Caine's foot connected with his hand, sending the gun clattering to the floor. Baxter turned and looked at the new attacker. "Well, you must be Caine. Or should I say 'must have been'?" He smiled as he swung out with his fist. Caine blocked the punch and swung back, connecting with Baxter's jaw, sending him overbalancing to the floor.

Baxter wasn't used to being beaten, and his rage exploded as he jumped up and kicked at Caine, but again Caine blocked him. With blood dripping from a lip wound, he realised he wasn't going to win this fight. He reached behind his jacket and went for his spare gun, but Caine was quicker.

Caine's foot landed a bone-jarring blow to Baxter's head; the force of it sent him crashing to the wall. Stunned at the turn of events, Baxter bellowed in rage. Hhe pushed himself from the wall and charged at Caine again, but it was over.

Caine leaped into the air, both of his legs leaving the ground. The power of the kick as it collected its target was audible.

Baxter was stopped dead in his tracks. His knees buckled and he fell, unconscious, to the floor.

"You all right, Kid?" Kermit asked as they sat gasping beside each other.

Peter looked at Kermit and smiled. "I am now. Thanks for not listening to me, and coming to get me."

"Any time, Kid. Just don't make a habit of this; I'm getting too old for this shit," Kermit said as Lo Si came and started fussing with his shoulder. "Look after Peter. I'm fine."

Lo Si smiled as he looked over to the father and son. "Peter is in good hands, some of the best. Apart from mine, that is," he said jokingly.

Caine knelt by his son's side, his eyes and hands scanning the multitude of wounds that had been inflicted on his son.

"I was worried about you, Pop."

"You were worried about me? Peter!" Caine's heart ached with Peter's every pain.

Peter painfully brought up his hand to his father's face. "The injuries will heal, Pop. He didn't touch here and here," he said pointing to his head and then to his heart. Looking up as Steadman joined them, he added, "It was a fine dragonswing, Pop." He smiled as he gently tapped his father's cheek.

Epilogue

Stiles was waiting. The meeting, as usual, was in the isolation of darkness. He heard the car door and the footsteps as the go-between came closer.

"You were a great disappointment. You were of no help to us in our endeavour. It was your job to make sure all this went smoothly, yet you didn't follow up. You didn't do your job," the man accused.

Stiles was a worried man, with blame coming back at him. "You really didn't think that Caine and his son were going to be easy to kill, surely?"

"We have had dealings with Caine and his son before. We will again, but this time without your help." Bringing his hand out of his pocket, the young man produced a gun and fired.

Stiles was dead before he knew what hit him; a bullet had hit its target. A trickle of blood fell between his unseeing eyes, and as his legs gave way to the death, his lifeless body fell to the ground.

As the man walked back to his car, a van arrived. Two men stepped out, picked up Stiles' body, and loaded him into the back of the van. Then, pulling out pressurised spray guns and infrared lights, they proceeded to clean the bloody mess from the ground. It was all over in minutes, and they were packed and gone as though they had not been there at all.

The young man stepped back into the car, joining his boss in the darkened interior. The older man was not happy. "Well, the last two weeks have been an obvious lesson in futility. Caine's Shaolin line still lives. The Sing Wah must not allow this Caine line to continue." The boss had sworn an oath to Bon Bon Hai -- an oath only death could break.

"With the death of Stiles, Baxter cannot be traced back to us, but Sir, if we could have utilised the Company to its full advantage..." The younger man was cut off by a wave of his boss' hand.

"It is far too early for the extent of the Sing Wah's involvement in the Company to be known. No, we will wait. There will be another time and another place. The Sing Wah will destroy Caine and his son, ending this part of the Caine line forever," he promised.

The End