Mary Margaret and Caine were both seated comfortably on the floor. They'd spent an hour discussing the events of the day, focusing on Caine's disturbing discoveries. Having reached an impasse, they'd started work on Mary Margaret's meditation technique when the doorbell rang. Caine did not move a muscle nor seem aware of the ring, but Mary Margaret jumped almost two feet in the air. Her peace interrupted, she rose to answer the door. Thinking it was Jody, who was due to arrive later, she answered the door with her mouth open ready to speak. She was surprised to see a young man with a sullen expression standing at the door.
"Oh, hello, you must be David. Please, come in." As she stepped back she felt Caine's hand rest lightly on her back. When David entered Caine gently moved Mary Margaret behind him.
"David, where have you been?" Caine's expression was serious.
"Master Caine, I need you to come with me, now."
"What has happened to your mother, and who has told you to come here?"
"Damn you, Caine!" David closed his eyes and seemed to struggle to regain control. "Forgive me, Master Caine, but I think I got in over my head. If you don't come with me, I'm afraid my mother will die."
"Very well. Wait here for a moment." Caine looked at Mary Margaret and she followed him into the bedroom. As he got ready to go she said, "You know there's something really fishy about this."
"Yes," Caine agreed. "David is lying."
"Then let me go with you?"
The look he gave her answered that question for her.
"Then at least find out where he's taking you."
"You did well tonight…and please, do not worry. I will be fine." Caine kissed her tenderly. "I love you."
~~~
David left the apartment, followed by Kwai Chang Caine. The young man walked to the driver side of a late model Buick and stood there until Caine opened the door and sat down. David then got in the car and nervously fumbled trying to put the keys in the ignition. Caine watched him as he started the car, awkwardly engaged the car in drive and took off.
"David, I sense a great deal of anxiety. You are obviously not familiar with this vehicle. You must proceed with more caution."
Furious, David slammed his hands on the steering wheel. "How can you talk about caution, when it's because of you my mother is fighting for her life in a hospital bed?"
"I do not know why your mother was injured. David, please, pull over and let us talk of this calmly."
Tears of anger and desperation filled David's eyes. His orders had been explicit: get Caine and drive him as far away from Chinatown as possible. Wait until the priest started acting strange, and when he did David was to leave him wherever he was at the time and then call Rick. Knowing it was directly against his orders but not caring, he veered off the road and pulled into a vacant lot. Jerking the car to a halt, he opened the door and jumped out. The anguished young man waited for Caine to climb out of the car and face him; he greeted Caine from behind the barrel of his handgun.
"Okay, Master Caine," David made the title of respect sound like an epithet, "You've got thirty seconds to convince me that you had nothing to do with my mother getting shot, or I swear I'm going to kill you."
Caine shrugged, saying, "I cannot do that, my young friend. But I can tell you that if you kill me, you will cause your son to grow up without a father. Is that what you want to do?"
"My son?" David lowered the gun. "Tell me, what do you know?"
~~~
Once Caine had left, Clarence motioned to Jack and Rick. Together they quickly pried open a window and entered Mary Margaret's apartment. By the time she heard the noise it was too late. Clarence and Rick held her while Jack forced the drug-soaked cloth tight against her face. When her body went limp, Rick brutally cut off a chunk of her hair. That done he turned her head and took a good look at her.
"I don't believe this! She's the bitch cop who collared me at the dock. I should just kill her now," he squeezed her face, "or kill her after I teach her how to be nice."
"Forget it, Rick." Clarence started to lift her up. "Li Sung wants us to drive her somewhere secluded and when she comes to, rough her up and we'll dump her in the trunk." Clarence's voice turned deadly. "You've got your own job to do, so go!"
Clarence and Jack carried her upright between them to the La Baron while Rick left in a different car. When they reached a more deserted area Mary Margaret started to stir and Jack got the job of moving her to the trunk. When the deed was completed Clarence drove the car away.
~~~
The midnight blue La Baron rolled rapidly down the dimly lit street. Clarence drove haphazardly, ignoring potholes and bumps in the road, and the ride was quite rocky. Struggling to stay calm, Mary Margaret cried out in pain as her body lurched when the car hit a ditch. Remember what Caine taught you, has been trying to teach you for three months. Taking deep breaths, she tried to clear her mind. Try not to feel the cord dig deeply into your wrists and ankles, the dirty rag stuffed callously in your mouth and tied tightly around your head. Feeling more terrified than she could ever remember, the throb of pain in her head and back was too much to ignore.
Mary Margaret continued to focus on her breathing. She'd struggled to practice the technique by candlelight, safe in their apartment with the man she loved; it was damn near impossible to do it crammed into the trunk of this damn car. Earlier in the evening Caine sat with her, guiding her, patiently teaching her a different way of coping with life's stresses. Little did they know she would have one hell of pop quiz tonight. Praying it wasn't the final exam, she wondered where he was and prayed that he was safe.
~~~
Clarence smirked and indulged in feelings of extreme self- satisfaction as he drove the car toward the prearranged destination. He and Jack were pleased with their work. The fact that they had only surprised one tired victim at her home didn't matter to either of them. They felt elated because they had nabbed someone this close to the seemingly untouchable Kwai Chang Caine.
Clarence asked, "Is she conscious? She should be by now, according to the plan."
"Yeah, she's got an attitude, too." Jack rubbed his leg. "She tried to make a break for it. I made her pay for it."
Clarence laughed and said, "Let her have an attitude, it'll piss off Li Sung. I'm going to enjoy watching the priest down on his knees, begging for her life."
"Yeah, well I'm not thrilled about messing with Caine. I hope the boss knows what he's doing, fooling around with the Shaolin like this. If it were me, I'd put a bullet in the back of his head. Sure, it'll be fun to watch him squirm, but it's too risky."
Privately Clarence agreed with Jack, but he would never voice the thought. Instead, he responded with, "Now, Caine's son, he's the one you could have some fun with. You know what they say, the children suffer the sins of their father. Something like that."
"Yeah." Jack rubbed his chin and said, "You know, I heard Peter Caine took the brands. He's a priest now, too."
"So what are you saying? The only one you're not afraid of is the woman?"
"I didn't say that!" Jack snapped.
Clarence sneered, satisfied he had riled Jack, and then said, "The boss is pissed off that the setup with the bombs didn't work. Caine and those cops should have been blown to bits, and Peter should have been blamed. Old Caine stayed one step ahead of the game, but I don't think that's why the boss is so angry. I think it goes back to the time before that. Caine really humiliated him and this time, the boss has something really nasty planned for Caine. It's something to do with his squeeze and his son." Clarence laughed and finished, "This time, he's not going to stop until he's humiliated Caine."
"I still say a bullet in the head would be easier."
Clarence looked at Jack sideways. "You've got a lot to learn about how these guys think. They get to the top because of their huge egos. Just shooting him isn't going to do the trick. The boss wants to make an example out of him, out of all of them. He wants to send a message to the cops, too."
As if on cue a cell phone rang. Jack answered the call, talked for a moment, then opened the glove compartment and pulled out a long narrow case. Setting the phone down, he opened the case and retrieved a syringe. Jack picked up the phone, spoke another moment, and then ended the call.
"Whatever is in here," Jack tapped the case, "will keep the priest from knowing where she is. After we give it to her, we can take her to the boss."
Clarence pulled off the road and said, "Okay, don't mess it up, Jack."
"Oh, don't worry. This time, if the bitch gives me any trouble, she'll really pay." Jack got out, took his knife from his pocket and walked to the trunk of the car.
~~~
Peter surveyed his apartment, finally feeling a glimmer of hope. After he moved in, he decided he was unhappy with the layout. Figuring he had some time on his hands, he undertook an ambitious renovation scheme. He knew his father would help him and Caine did, but they both tended to become involved in the lives of others, biting huge chunks of time out of their schedules. The consequence was that for three months Peter lived in a construction site. A hammer, nail gun, screwdriver and a drill, among other tools and parts, filled his living space and often turned up in the most unlikely places.
Tonight Peter's hope bubbled to the surface because he could actually see progress. A shape had taken hold in the form of two-by- fours that would become new walls. Satisfied he'd done quality work at a good pace, Peter decided to call it a night. But when the young Shaolin priest lit candles in his meditation room the flames flickered slightly; a wave of coldness and despair covered Peter. Standing calmly and readying himself, he waited for the dark presence to make itself known.
Rick walked into the apartment followed by two muscular drones. Peter recognized Rick as one of the more sadistic gang members that terrorized Chinatown. The atmosphere grew increasingly grimmer. Deciding to cut right to the point, Peter asked, "What do you want, Rick? I don't have time for games."
"I guess the stories of Shaolin hospitality are just bullshit. Just like the rest of the hocus pocus," Rick hissed. "Okay, priest. Tonight you'll be doing what I say, or your father's little tramp will die."
Peter controlled his anger at the vulgar words, knowing they were just that--only words. "Do you think I'm worried about you running over to my fathers apartment and threatening him? Because you won't get close to him."
"You still don't get it, do you priest. We've already got her. Maybe you don't care. Maybe he's already tired of her and gave her to you, but she's not your type."
Moving toward him slowly, Peter said, "I've listened to just about enough of this crap. You can tell me what you're talking about or get the hell out of here before I get pissed. Believe me, you don't want to be here for that."
"Believe me, we're gonna be here for more than that, freak." Rick held up a bag. "Do you see this?"
"It looks like hair...." Although it could have been anyone's hair, Peter knew it was Mary Margaret's. Peter felt physically sick. Skalany would never let him do that to her unless she was hurt or unconscious or worse, and he wondered if his father knew. Peter wanted to shake Rick and make him tell Peter where she was.
As if he anticipated that reaction, Rick held up his cell phone. "See this, I press this button, the call goes through and she dies. That fast. That simple."
Trying to buy time, Peter said, "How do I know she's alive? Prove it to me. Call her on your phone and let me talk to her!"
Wildly thrusting the phone into Peter's view, Rick lost his veneer of sanity and screamed, "You are in no position," spit flew from his mouth as he paused to take a breath, "to tell me," he trembled with rage, "to do anything!"
When Peter took another small step toward him Rick's beeper went off, and Rick shouted to his two drones, "That's the signal!" Turning his attention back to Peter, Rick shouted, "If you resist at all, the whore is dead! Do you understand me? Dead!"
The two black-clad drones grabbed Peter and started to beat him. One held his arms back while the other savagely pummeled him. Peter could have effortlessly kicked both of them into oblivion, but the threat to Mary Margaret seemed too great. Peter passively defended himself the best he could and shielded the knowledge of the beating from his father, knowing that Caine must have his hands full by now.
"It's not working! The priest is pulling some freak-show stunt. Quick, take him, pin him up against the wood beams. Move it!" Rick yelled, and the two men hastily did his bidding. Despite his ability to escape the full damage of the blows, Peter was greatly weakened by the attack and did not see it coming. Before he realized what Rick intended to do, the two drones had him pinned against the two- by-fours, his armed stretched up and his palm facing out. As calmly as if hanging a picture, Rick lifted the nail gun and squeezed the handle. He drove two nails though Peter's hand, pinioning him against the wood.
Completely unprepared, the pain caused Peter's body to stiffen, every nerve feeling the agony. Unable to shield this from his father, his scream pierced the air and traveled through space and time.
~~~
Caine started to answer David, to tell him about Lisa and the baby, when he gasped. His knees gave out from a blast of intense pain. Falling to the ground, he clenched his fists and cried, "Peter...!" Gulping ragged breaths of air, he fought to capture his composure and clear his mind so he could go to his son. Before he could move a second powerful wave of pain and fear hit him. Mary Margaret! Caine slumped over entirely on the ground. His state of mind became intolerable and he directed all his resources to maintaining awareness.
"What's wrong with you?" David yelled, kneeling next to the Shaolin and grabbing his arm. When he touched Caine the priest felt David's fears join forces with the storm that raged within him, and Caine knew that David also experienced his. The knowledge profoundly changed David and Caine perceived that David realized life could be much different, more complex, than the young boy had come to know. David tried to help Caine get up and managed to push him partly off the ground.
"Master Caine, forgive me, I--I know I was wrong. Please tell me, what has happened? Is it my mother?"
"Your mother is safe, but both Peter and Mary Margaret are in mortal danger...I can only go to one," he said in a whisper. Somehow, someone forced him to choose between the two people in his life he loved dearly. Caine had no time to indulge in emotion; he had to make a terrible choice, one for which he'd never forgive himself.
"David, you must go to the One Hundred and First Precinct. I will join you as soon as I am able."
~~~
Filled with uncertainty, David Reed did as Caine instructed and drove away, heading toward the One Hundred and First Precincts. As he drove, he remembered his instructions to call in a report to Clarence. Gripping the steering wheel with one hand, he reached over with the other to open the glove compartment and fished around, finding the cell phone.
Pausing, he thought a moment about what he would say about where he had taken Caine. Although his orders had been to take Caine as far away from Peter's apartment as possible, David had only driven a few miles before he had lost his temper and pulled over. His mind made up, he hardened his resolve and made the call.
"Yeah, I got right on the Interstate, left him a good fifteen-twenty miles away from Peter's apartment. What exit?" David thought for a second. "I don't know, he pissed me off and I wasn't paying attention. I left him there. He was lying there and moaning, and I think he passed out. He looked pretty bad."
Nervously listening to Clarence demand more details, David heard all he could stand and interrupted, "Clarence, I've done what you wanted, Caine is off your back! I'm going to see my mother. I haven't seen her all day. I don't want your money, or anything else to do with you. I did all that I could do."
David ended the connection and pushed the car's speed to the limit. He had thought about calling the precinct first, but figured he'd never get anywhere with a story like this on the phone, and now he was almost there. Rolling down the window, not caring what it hit, he let the cell phone drop to the road.
~~~~
Caine did not waste another second of the precious time he watched slipping away from him. Time he feared he did not have, for he could not sense the warm, erratic energy he knew to be Peter's. While regaining his strength, he had focused and determined that he needed to go his brownstone, the loft Peter lived in while renovating it. Caine ran and channeled all his power to his speed. He did not try to conserve energy for he did not want the strength to lift up his son's lifeless body.
Breathing hard, he arrived at the old building in record time. He looked up to the balcony, only to see flames through the open doors. Horror gripped him and he forced his mind to ignore the vivid reel of memories that raced through his mind. Steeling his heart from the anguish of the loss, which he feared worse than the threat of his own death, he vowed, I will not let fire claim you, as I once thought it had, my son. Not this time!
The distance from the ground to the balcony was great; he would normally never attempt to extinguish a fire so far away. Quickly summoning strength he did not really have and facing his palm toward the balcony, he directed the force of his chi to the fire. Although he was weak, the force caused the fire to extinguish.
Caine ran up the steps and once in the loft he immediately saw his son though the choking smoke. Small flames were starting to feed on the oxygen. Peter appeared to be standing, but as Caine rushed to his side he discovered Peter was tied to a post, unconscious but alive. Relief was tangible, something he could touch and feel. When he saw Peter's hand covered in blood he wondered what had caused such an injury. Caine pushed the thought from his mind and undid the bindings that held hostage his son.
Gasping for breath and coughing, eyes burning from smoke, Caine managed to support Peter over his shoulder and make his way out of the room. Both covered with soot and grime, Caine carried Peter out of the apartment and down the steps and did not stop until they were outside.
Caine gently lowered his son to the ground, dropping to his knees beside him. He was losing his composure and struggled to hang on to the scrap that remained. Bending his head close to his son's he could feel faint breath on his cheek, and tasted the tears that streamed from his own eyes. Brushing them away, he unbuttoned Peter's shirt, and pushed the fabric away to either side. Very gently, he ran his hands over Peter's smooth chest, assessing bruises and damage that appeared to be caused by a beating.
Carefully, Caine continued to examine his son's battered body. Caine gently lifted Peter's bloody hand and studied both sides. The wound was clean, straight through the palm of Peter's hand. Though he did not know what had caused the injury he suspected a nail. With great relief he realized that Peter would live and recover fully. Reaching into his bag, he pulled out a packet of herbs and pressed it into the wound. Finally he directed his entire remaining chi into his son.
Regaining consciousness, Peter stirred and became increasingly agitated. Shaking his head back and forth, he started groaning, "No, no fire!"
Caine tenderly placed his hand on Peter's face. "Peter, my son, the fire is over. You are safe now."
Peter's eyes snapped opened and focused on his father. Caine grasped Peter's good hand and squeezed it, still stroking his son's frightened face. "Peter, the fire is out, and you are safe. Your injuries are painful but not life threatening."
Peter closed his eyes and leaned his head into the comfort of his father's loving touch. "My hand." Moving his hand he winced in pain. "The jerk nailed my hand to the post. I managed to force the nails out and was trying to untie the ropes. That's the last thing I remember. I must have passed out from the smoke."
Revolted by the revelation Caine closed his eyes.
"Peter," he began, desperately needing to talk to Peter, to tell him what was happening, but he found he had no more strength to speak.
~~~
The misery in Caine's voice pierced through the fog of his pain and Peter's eyes flew open. Grunting, he pushed himself up on his good arm. "Dad, how's Mary Margaret? Where did you find her? Is she badly hurt?"
The mention of her name combined with the knowledge of his son's safety must have severed Caine's tenuous hold on control. Removing his hand from Peter's face Caine rubbed his eyes. Peter noticed Caine's hand tremble and he squeezed it hard, frantic to comfort his father.
"Pop, what's wrong, she's not dead...." The knot in Peter's stomach tightened as the answer became clear. "You don't know! You don't know where she is or what's happened! Well, come on, Pop," Peter urged, "We've got to go find her."
Caine gripped Peter's good hand with the tightness of a vise. "Peter," The word came out harshly. "I cannot sense her. I do not know where she is. Either she is already dead, or she will be dead soon. I can not help her if I can not find her."
Stunned, Peter realized that his father had given up. Caine had reached the end of what Peter truly believed was an endless rope. "Dad, you've got to pull yourself together. We'll find her, even if you can't sense her!"
Peter struggled to pull himself upright. Closing his eyes, he focused his concentration to a source of energy he had carefully blocked ever since he had become aware of it on a warm spring day three months ago. It took him a moment, but he found it. The connection, though faint, was still there.
He touched his father's face and said, softly, "Father, Mary Margaret is alive. I can feel her life force! I can take us to her. Pop, come on! We're going to get her, and we're going to kick some butt."
Peter's word's briefly penetrated deep enough for Caine to look up. When Peter met his father's gaze, however, he saw the Shaolin's eyes, cold and hollow, devoid of Caine's essence. Reaching out with his mind, Peter ran straight into the wall that Caine had built to numb the pain.
Speaking in a voice with no warmth or emotion, Caine replied, "That is impossible."
Caine's skin felt like ice against Peter's fingers. Peter tenderly ran his hand up his father's cheek, resting his palm on Caine's forehead. He could not feel his father's chi; his life-force was drained. Shuddering, Peter suspected his father had retreated while trying to escape facing the past. Helplessly, Peter sensed Caine falling deeper into a dark abyss that had formed within his father. Glancing up at the balcony, Peter remembered the terror he'd felt when he thought he'd die in the fire. His father must have relived the same terrible emotions, too.
Long moments passed and still Caine remained sitting cross-legged on the ground as if in a trance. Peter considered using anger to try to motivate his father and spur him to action, hoping to create a rage within Caine that would push him to respond. Immediately he dismissed the tactic, knowing this was a time like no other he had seen and prayed he would never see again. It finally dawned on him that the answer was for him to teach his father and to give back the will to go on to the man who gave him his life -- first when he was conceived and once again today.
Peter knew the next few moments were critical and that things had to go exactly right to pull his father out of whatever hell he was in. He needed his father and his father desperately needed him. They had to take time to heal each other before they could go one step further.
Pulling himself up to a sitting position Peter wrapped his arm around Caine's shoulders. Then he leaned so close that as he whispered, his lips brushed against his father's cheek.
"Father, join with me now. I need you. I won't let you leave me." Peter rested his head against Caine's shoulder. So far, he had gotten nowhere -- his father hadn't moved. A moment that felt like a century passed and one tear etched a lonely trail down Peter's dusty cheek.
"Pop, my hand hurts like hell. I've breathed in ten pounds of soot and…and we've got a job to do that I can't do alone."
Peter felt his father's hand slip around his neck, gently pulling him into an embrace as his other arm wrapped around Peter's back. As Peter lifted his head Caine turned toward him and again, their eyes locked. Peter absorbed the despair from Caine while Caine drew hope and strength from Peter. Caine placed a hand on Peter's face and they held each other with their touch and gaze; the physical barriers between their bodies melted and their ch'is joined as one.
Their world grew thick and fuzzy and time was suspended. Father and son united their spirits, and in that instant Peter felt and saw it all, understanding why his father was in shock. He rode with David and felt Caine's sadness when the troubled young man put a gun to his head. He felt the rage and frustration of knowing he could go to only one of two people who needed him. Caine used tremendous energy to reach Peter in time, further exhausting the Shaolin. Finally, the horror from the possibility of Peter's death by fire had triggered long-repressed terrors. Only then did Peter realize how close he'd come to losing his father forever.
Kwai Chang Caine felt the strength and restraint his son displayed while being threatened and beaten by Rick and his men and the dread he felt knowing Mary Margaret was being held against her will. He felt the ropes dig harshly into Peter's flesh and breathed in the acrid smoke as his son faked unconsciousness before he finally removed the nails from his own hands. The young priest almost freed himself before the trauma weakened him. And now, Peter possessed both the power and the clarity of vision to direct them to the course of action necessary to save not only Caine's life, but also the life of Peter's friend and former partner -- the woman who would be Caine's wife.
~~~
**Father?
I am here, my son. Be still while I focus our combined energy on your injuries. We must heal you as much as possible to face whatever battle awaits us.
Yes, Father.
But Peter, being Peter, could not be still long.
Pop, why do I know where Mary Margaret is and you don't?
Silence for a moment, then, I believe whatever they gave her was directed toward the state of awareness of a Shambhalla master. They did not take into account you would know where she was. I also believed this to be the case.
You mean I'm kind of like a Warthog hugging the ground, flying lower than the B-52 bombers, and sneaking in under the radar sweep?
...Something like that.
Pop, I thought I lost you today. It was worse than when you left. I never want to lose you like that again.
You need not worry, my son, especially now that I can count on you to keep me on the straight and narrow path. **
~~~
As quickly as it had started, the link vanished and the union ended. Peter couldn't help feeling resentment to be yanked away from the warmth and security he felt, surrounded by his father's love. But as he became aware of his surroundings he was rewarded by the look in Caine's eyes -- filled with worry, humor and love. His father's confidence was fully restored. Peter's awareness immediately snapped back to the present and the mission they had in front of them.
"My son, I have done all I can for your injuries. Are you able to drive?"
Peter tried to move his injured hand and found it useless, but the swelling was no worse and he could tolerate the pain. Gingerly trying to stand he was amazed that he felt as good as he did.
"I'm ready, Pop. Let's get the hell out of here."
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7
Back to author's index Back to Story index