Captain Karen Simms paced back and forth next to her recalcitrant detective, seated in the chair in front of her desk, wondering what the hell she could say to get through to this man. She could tell him that they were doing everything they could to help him and find Lao, but he already knew that. She could promise that, if he came near this case, she'd fire him, but he didn't care. All the phrases normally dredged out for such an occasion were useless. She balled her hands into fists, feeling frustrated beyond belief, and continued to pace.

"Aren't you going to say anything, Captain?" Kermit tossed casually. "I do have somewhere else to be." It had been two hours. Too long to be away.

"What can I say, Detective?" she countered. "Can I say that you have a mission to kill someone in cold blood and I can't do a damn thing about it? Can I say that you may have dragged this city into a costly court battle that takes away funds for more urgent matters? But, what does that mean to a distraught detective trying to shake someone down?"

"It won't happen again."

"Translating from Kermit-ese," Simms said, crossing her arms, "that just means that you'll take extra steps not to involve the precinct or let anyone see you doing anything next time. Well, while you're busy trying to destroy your soul and everything about yourself that you've built in the last two years, I would like to remind you that there's a little baby out there who needs her father."

"I doubt I'd be any good to her now."

Karen kneeled beside him. "Well, then, you'd better START being some good to her. You're all she's got."

"Damn Caine to hell," Kermit muttered, not noticing the fuse he'd just lit inside his Captain.

"Listen," she snapped, "before you get so goddamn sanctimonious about Detective Caine, you'd better first take a closer look at your own past. You might have pulled the same thing and have probably done plenty worse in your time! YOU'RE NOT THINKING STRAIGHT!!! If it hadn't been Savannah and Kat on those steps, if it had been some anonymous mother and child, you'd be the first in line to help Peter through it!"

"BUT IT WAS SAVANNAH AND KAT! AND IT WAS HIS FAULT!!!" In one explosive move, he was up, moving, grabbing a glass paperweight and hurling it against the wall.

Karen jumped at the loud reverberation. "Kermit! You're standing right in the middle of a glass house, and you know it!" Forced to address the tortured man's back, Karen swallowed her own anger and frustration. Calmly, she said, "Throwing stones won't help. Hatred won't help. Murder won't help."

Kermit Griffin stood still in the middle of the room, realizing his helplessness in the face of karma. It was fate paying him back for all of his own murders, his own sins. The despair and fear welled up into him again and hit unexpectantly, full-force like a battering ram. With the implosion of sensations and memories, he doubled over slightly, fighting to hold back the flood that threatened to break free at any moment. "She's going to die," he managed to say to Karen in a choked whisper, "and I won't want to live."

"You have to," Karen pleaded, arms now around her friend, comforting him whether the touch was welcome or not. "Kat needs you. You can do it, I know you can. We'll all help you. I...we care about you."

Kermit felt the blood and sorrow pounding in his ears. Fighting to reassemble control, he listened. Accepting the comfort for what little help it offered.

Karen Simms was not being a Captain now and they both knew it. "Please, Kermit. You know better than this. You get your life together with Kat. We'll handle the bad guys. You can trust us."

"It just...hurts so much, Karen," he confided softly. Blaisdell was gone. Savannah, near death and out of his reach. Karen was the only other person he could trust. The only one who could handle this savage grief. He opened a crack...just a small one.

"Avenging her won't help. The pain would still be there, Kermit, and it won't bring Savannah back to you. Only faith and love will do that." She held him a bit longer before turning back into the Captain again. "Take as much time as you need. Savannah needs you and you need to be with her. Go to the hospital and do your job. We'll do ours."

Karen released his shoulders and backed away. She understood the price of his brief confidence in her. Exposing his heart cost Kermit Griffin. Leaving him to gather his shield back together, Karen left her office and closed the door behind her.

******

"Knock, knock." Dr. Sabourin rapped lightly on her colleague's door and paused.

Dr. Ashton lifted her head up from her hands. She'd been pouring over this chart for thirty minutes, hoping the words would change. Wearily, she waved in her guest. "Enter at your own risk. I hear depression is contagious."

"Lucky for us," the emergency physician sank down into a chair, "there are an abundance of head shrinkers at our disposal." Allowing the other woman a chance to reassemble her professional face, she waited, then said, "I want to talk to you about a patient of yours. Savannah Griffin."

Tapping the chart on her desk, she answered, "I was just going over her chart. Grim, at best." Closing the file, she gave her guest her full attention. "Do you know the family?"

"Yes, I've seen them from time to time. Jackie, I let an associate of mine see her. Caine. I think you've see him here at the hospital."

"You let someone examine MY patient?!" The proprietory instincts of physician took over. "Why would you -- wait a minute. Caine. He's that apothecary who goes on rounds with you sometimes, right?" Dr. Ashton's face was bright red and etched with tension as she stood up quickly in her anger.

"Yes," the other doctor confirmed, raising her hand to halt the forthcoming reprimand, "but before you get upset, I think you should repeat her scans. I've seen him get miraculous results with--"

"Listen, Ellen," Dr. Ashton said sharply, "I don't know much about alternative medicine and if you want to try it out, that's fine, but I DO know neurology and no crystals or chanting is going to help that woman!" Reining in her frustration, she softened her voice and sat down. "I've been trying to emphasize the little bit of hope in her case so that her husband won't completely give up but reality and probability aren't in her favor."

"Check her again."

"Ellen!" she argued, pointing to the test results plotting against her patient, "She's a three on the Glasgow Scale. A THREE! No eye contact, no verbal, no motor. Fifty percent of those die and we all know it. The EEG shows limited brain activity and she's a prime candidate for blood clots and pneumonia."

"Order up the tests." Dr. Sabourin easily unfolded from her chair. "What have you got to lose? If things are better, see if the family wants him to continue. I guarantee, he won't do one thing to hurt her."

Leaning back in her chair and closing her eyes, she surrendered. "Why not...at this point, chanting might be as useful as anything I could do." Exchanging a smile as her guest departed, the doctor picked up her phone to order the new tests.

******

Kermit sat beside her bed as if molded in stone. The hospital staff graciously suspended the ten minute restriction on Savannah's visitation schedule. Kermit could only guess at the reason for the sudden change in rules. Were they resigned to her death and allowing her family to spend her last moments nearby? Was she stronger and able to withstand any stimulation that may penetrate the cocoon of her injuries? Or did it simply not matter?

Dr. Ashton was pleased at the way her wounds were healing. There was a brief crisis with pneumonia, but Savannah's body had fought it off. Fought in stillness and silence, but like a warrior. Somewhere deep inside, he knew she was waging a battle. The ripples of her struggle plowed past the barrier of a broken body and reached out for reinforcement. He could feel it and longed to help, longed to give her some sort of weapon.

"I know you can hear me," he said, holding her hand and gently bending the fingers around his own. "Keep fighting it."

A light hand on his shoulder pulled him away from his concentrated efforts. "Kermit, can I get something for you?" Marilyn gently rubbed her brother's rock-hard neck muscles. The love he felt for his wife was such a powerful magnet, Marilyn feared that her brother would be dragged into oblivion with her.

All through the years of separation, the bond of family had held the siblings together. Their struggles had been as different as the lives they led. Kermit Griffin had embraced a life of violence and intrigue unlike his younger sister's stable family in the suburbs. They had been drawn together as a unit when the fabric of their lives felt a rip.

After a deep breath, the mercenary raked a hand over his face. "No. I just want to stay here until it's time to go pick up Kat."

Sitting down beside her brother, Marilyn leaned on his shoulder to offer the comfort of physical contact, trying to mesh her strength with his. She had lost her soulmate and could understand his dread. Kermit had helped her ride out Rob's death. Hopefully, Savannah would survive and spare him that agony.

"Why don't I take Kat home to the Gables for a few days? A week, maybe? Give you one less thing to worry about." Kermit had been fighting the clock to spend time with Kat in an attempt to lessen her confusion. It was taking a toll on both of them. "Jason and Mitch would love to have her and Hope would have a ball playing with someone more her size."

"Thanks, but you have your own family to take care of and Savannah would want her to be with me." Selfish or not, the truth was that he couldn't spare her. Kat was his only anchor to normal living at the moment. Marilyn did have her hands full with her youngest. Hope had been born only months before Kat. One toddler was enough for anyone to deal with at a time.

"I understand. But if you change your mind, I'll be glad to take her." Marilyn touched her sister-in-law's forehead. Hoping that maybe this once, she would respond. Even a slight response would give them something to hold on to.

"She brought home about one million gifts for everyone from Paris. They must still be in the trunk of her car." It had been a little over a week since they had been thousands of miles away...in a dream.

"How was the trip?" Marilyn hoped to bring some positive memories to her brother's present despair.

"It was perfect, Marilyn." His eyes stayed fixed on the pale skin, on the closed lids and stilled hands. Letting a thin laugh escape his lips, he said, "All that shopping, and she didn't buy one thing for herself. Finally, I bought her something. This expensive silk negligee." He fingered the bland cotton of her hospital gown. "Savannah would hate this thing. They said she couldn't wear one of her own."

For an entire week, they had disappeared into joy of themselves. A private world of discovery and celebration of their victory over the odds to be together. They were lovers. Not parents. Not a detective or a volunteer. "Marilyn, we shared things while we were there that we never had before. We even decided that we would..." he stopped abruptly.

"Tell me." He needed to share his good memories. Now, more than ever.

*****

"No, Kermit! Let me figure this out m'self." Savannah stubbornly attempted to wade through the confusion of a foreign language and currency. All for the sake of one tiny Madeline doll for Kat. Kermit, for his part, tried not to laugh at the syllables Savannah tripped over her Southern accent. Flipping through her translation guide, she made a comical sight.

"Oh, Kermit. We should bring one for Hope. Excuse me, Madame, do ya'll have another one of these?" She smiled at the shopkeeper, holding up one finger and pointing to the doll.

He couldn't hold in the laughter another second. "Ya'll? What classic French terminology." Savannah stuck out her tongue as he leaned back against the doorway to laugh and wait.

The experienced matron of the shop was well versed in the fumblings of tourists and quickly filled the request, adding two more packages to Kermit Griffin's already overburdened arms.

He had been keeping a watchful eye on some rapidly gathering clouds, and urged to his wife, "Madame, si nous ne partons pas a~ l'instant, nous allons se mouiller!"

His goal was to rush her out the door with the threat of being caught in the rain. The result was somewhat different. Suddenly, the ex-mercenary found himself encased by two eager arms and embroiled in a passionate kiss. Coming up for air, Kermit wasn't about to complain. "Hey...not that I mind but..."

"I LOVE it when you speak French." In her Gomez Addams frenzy, she continued to coat the happy man with kisses. The shopkeeper smiled knowingly and turned her back to the loving couple. After all, this was Paris.

"But...umm....all I said was...." He stopped his confession quickly. If she was this thrilled at his linguistic talent, far be it from Kermit Griffin to spoil her fun.

"I don't care, Griffin. Do you have any idea what your voice does to my knees?" Another kiss explained all.

He was just about to suggest that they adjourn to their hotel for a demonstration when the rain began to fall outside. "Looks like we'll have to stay for a while." Taking Savannah's hand, he led her out to one of a few small tables under the awning to wait. For what seemed like hours in only moments, the couple sat soaking up the happiness that bloomed in the fragrant spring air around them.

In the corner, a young man gently strummed a guitar. An old waltzing tempo. Impulsively, Savannah stood up and took her husband's hand in hers. "Dance with me," she breathed into his ear as he moved closer and clasped her other hand tenderly in his own. Almost in a hypnotic haze, he followed as she backed into the rain.

He would follow anywhere. Out into the warm spring rain, where the raindrops glistened in her hair. Slipping a hand around her waist, Kermit moved them gracefully in time with the music through the soft mist of clean water. A small crowd of onlookers watched the couple whirl in a private dance. Some shook their heads and walked on. Others smiled and understood the drunken pleasure of love.

"They think we're crazy," the satisfied mercenary whispered in her ear as he lost himself in the scent of her neck.

"Je suis fou de toi...sugar," she teased and smiled in ecstasy.

"Ha! You're learning." He pulled her more tightly to his soaked body. He was crazy about her, too. Crazy about her heart and soul and the pliable body swathed in damp cloth held firmly in his grasp. Looking down into the shelter of her deep green eyes, he spoke from his heart, "About what we were discussing last night...."

"We don't have to talk about that now, Kermit. There's no big rush," she replied and continued the dance.

Ignoring her offer, he followed through with his decision. "If you'd like for us to have another baby, I think it's a great idea. For all three of us."

She stopped dancing abruptly. Holding him at arms length, she asked, "Are you absolutely certain?"

"Yes, Scarlett. Every moment I live with you, I can't imagine life could get any better," he leaned one cheek on the rain-drenched blonde hair, "then it does...and I'm amazed once more. I love you and Kat and another baby could only make it better." His sentence ended with another welcoming kiss.

"Well, let's go get started, Green Man." Savannah guided him back to their packages and they began the arm-in-arm trip to their hotel, happily declining the umbrellas offered by the shop matron.

*****

"Oh, Kermit. Another baby would be marvelous for you-" Marilyn cut her joy short.

"I'm trying to believe in tomorrow, Marilyn," he struggled through the sorrow and despair. "That's her category. Hope is her category and I just don't know how she could ever-"

"Let's just focus on the here and now. Getting her well and home." She stood up and kissed his cheek lightly. "You'll have a future with her, Kermit."

The words bounced back from his intense grief.

The siblings looked up suddenly, startled by the noise behind them. At the sight of the small woman coming into the room, Marilyn gripped Kermit's shoulder. "I'll be right outside." She patted the woman on the arm as greeting as she slid by, allowing the older woman to walk to the bed.

Moments ticked by, where all the two observers heard was the humming of the machines, before Kermit turned. "Annie-" he began, only to be cut off by an upraised hand. The petite captain's wife turned toward the sound of his voice, her features twisted in anger.

"I am just so mad, I don't know how to start with you, Kermit Griffin," she said softly, for Savannah's sake.

Kermit turned back to the figure on the bed. His attention being directed to the patient once more, although one piece of his mind nodded to himself. She's on their side. It figures. He is her son.... He couldn't even bear to think the name. He let his gaze sweep over Savannah's still form to comfort and calm himself. "If you don't mind, I'd rather keep every bit of disharmony out of here. Think what you like about me. In here, she's more important than anything."

Paul had disappeared on another mission for unlimited duration, leaving Annie all alone again. But he'd asked his two 'sons' to watch out for his wife, which they would do willingly. Now, the 'sons' were at odds, leaving Annie to play peacemaker. She fervently wished that Paul were here to knock heads together, though. Sometimes, that was truly the only solution.

"Then I'd like to speak to you outside," Annie's firm voice wouldn't give way.

"Nothing you can say will change things," Kermit said, shrugging. "Why bother?"

"Well, Mister," she snapped, "it's my time to waste."

"Wrong. It's time you're taking from her. Time you're taking from me to be with her."

"Maybe I think you owe me some time after what you did."

"What I-!?" Kermit fought to control his sharply-rising voice. He realized that Annie could keep this up indefinitely in soft tones in a manner that would severely inhibit his ability to express his own point of view. Giving in to the inevitable, he stood up. "Let's take this outside."

"Excellent idea." Dr. Ashton cut the exchange with her own disapproving glare. "I have tests to run and this discussion could find more appropriate grounds." Dismissing the pair, she advanced on her patient and began another examination.

Kermit offered an arm to Annie, which she pointedly shoved away. Extending her cane, she walked briskly out of the room, letting Kermit hold the door open for her.

She kept walking, even when Kermit closed the door behind him and followed her down several hallways. She finally stopped at a door. "Does this have a sign on it?" she asked Kermit.

"'Supply room.'"

Without another word, she pushed her way inside with Kermit following.

"How did you know this wasn't a hospital room with a patient inside?"

"Because people weren't being quiet and careful going in and out of it," Annie snapped. She sighed, seemingly to herself and shook her head. She reached out a hand to the suffering husband.

Not seeing any potential harm, he leaned into it, expecting a sympathetic pat or caress. He was not expecting a sharp slap that echoed throughout the room. Kermit drew back. "Last time I give a freebie to a blind chick," he said. The slap didn't hurt but Annie was one of the few whose opinion mattered to him. Now, she was against him, too.

"I think you're the blind one here, Kermit!" she snapped, her angry expression returning once more. "What's happened is the most terrible thing that could happen. It's normal for you to be upset. But, dammit, you don't have to take it out on my son!!! Why are you so blind to anyone else's pain but yours?!!"

"MY pain!??" he shouted back. "What about Kat's pain?! Who's going to speak out in her behalf?! Who's going to tell her she doesn't have a mother anymore-"

"SHUT UP or I'll smack you again!" Annie yelled. "I know what Kat's going to lose! I love Savannah, too! My heart breaks for her and you and Kat. But, Kermit, it's not Peter's fault!!"

"The hell it is! I told him not to-"

"It was a mistake! A tragedy!!! What did you say to him when he accidentally hit Savannah's car, pulling out of the precinct parking lot?"

"That it was lucky he didn't hit the Corvair or I would've killed him."

"No, idiot!" Annie was balling her fists in frustration. Trying to make this man see. "You said, 'Accidents happen. You didn't mean it!' Well, what's the difference here?!"

"The difference is that Kat lost her mother! That I lost...I lost... my...soul...."

Annie sighed as Kermit turned away from her in an attempt to hide his emotions. "Hiding your face from a blind chick is a bit pointless, don't you think?" She walked to him carefully. Touched his shoulder. "Kermit, she's not dead. She has a chance. A ever-increasing chance, from what I've heard. You've got people to help you. Me, the precinct...and Peter, if you'd let him. He feels horrible...."

"Well, dammit, he should!!!" Kermit wiped his eyes savagely with one swipe of his arm.

"Please...." Annie was trying to reach him, realizing that maybe Kermit was finally unreachable. "Kermit, just think about it. He didn't mean to hurt anyone. He wanted Jimmy Wong in as an informant, not a victim in the morgue. And he cares about you and Savannah! He would never do anything to hurt you."

"Well, he did." Kermit turned to face her. "What I want to know is how come everyone is on the side of the person at fault instead of the victim?"

Annie nearly screamed in her frustration. "HE'S NOT AT FAULT! He didn't mean it...."

"That's cold comfort from my end, Annie," Kermit said woodenly. "Tell Savannah and Kat that he didn't mean it. I'm sure that will be of great comfort to them." He turned again to head toward the door. "Don't worry about your precious baby boy. I don't think I'll feel the need to redecorate his face again. Just tell him to stay away from me and what's mine. If he doesn't, I'm not sure what might happen."

He walked away, leaving the frustrated woman behind.

*******

"Don't be an idiot, Blake!" Morgan was raving in her usual self-righteous grate. "If anyone of us had pulled something so stupid, we'd be out of a job with our asses on the street."

Blake sat silently for a moment, gnawing the inside of his cheek for restraint. The squadroom had hummed with the constant buzz of gossip and supposition since the details of the drive by had surfaced. Sympathies seemed divided at this point. "What makes you think Peter Caine hasn't been dismissed already, Detective?"

Easing her hip onto the corner of his desk, Morgan replied with venom, "Number one, he's STILL Blaisdell's golden boy-"

"Blaisdell's not here, unless you've forgotten."

"It doesn't matter," she countered. "The old man's still got his fingers in things around here. You know that." Suddenly, she fixed her gaze over Blake's shoulder. With the pleasure of vindication glowing in her smile, she oozed, "And number two, here comes the golden boy now."

Conversation faded in a wave as the battered detective moved through the room. Eyes averted from their punitive glare, Peter walked past the gaping crowd into Captain Simms's office, clicking the door shut behind him.

"Hmmmm...well, Blake. Wanna bet money on who redecorated pretty boy's face?" Morgan's grin could break glass.

It was an easy bet. Blake only wondered who had stopped Kermit from killing him. He'd seen Kermit kill before in a time and place without reference in this life and for much milder reasons than a bullet in someone he loved.

Tilting his head to one side and adjusting his glasses, Blake spoke in a calm but biting tone. "Betting on human misery may be something you enjoy, Morgan, but I don't. A lot of good people are suffering today. And...by the way...GET THE HELL OFF MY DESK!"

Stunned by a tone she'd never heard from the sedate officer, Morgan snorted her disgust and moved on to the next gossiping crowd.

******

My God.... Karen could only gasp as the sight of Peter's face. Jody had warned her over the phone, but she had no idea. She'd understood how unstable Kermit was and what disaster could occur if he came in contact with Peter Caine in such a volatile state. But she'd never dreamed Kermit would leave the hospital to hunt Peter down.

Peter sat carefully on her couch. Every movement was stiff and painful. Still silent, he leaned back and stared back at his captain and waited for her response.

"You look like hell."

"Uniform of the day, Captain," he quipped, eyes remaining toward the floor. The bruises on his face matched the blackening marks on his heart.

Karen began to pace around the room. She wore the indignation that should have been Peter's--the indignation merited by Kermit's attack on the young detective. "I'll deal with him later. I know he's hurting but he can't-"

"Leave him alone. It's my call, okay?"

Seeing the futility of further discussion, Karen switched to the business at hand. "We meet with IA in thirty minutes. I've called for legal to send a representative to speak for you. She's already been briefed on the details."

"No counsel."

"That's crazy. Everyone is entitled to counsel at an official internal affairs inquiry."

Shaking his head, Peter said, "No counsel. I'll tell them what I did, they'll make a decision, and that's that."

Martyrdom. Pure and simple. Peter was going to throw himself to the wolves out of guilt. Self-sacrifice that had no purpose she could see. All of them were losing. Savannah was losing her life. Kermit, his family. Peter, his soul. And Karen...her unit and several friends.

Waste angered her anew. "Let me get this straight, Detective. You're going to go in there and toss your career out the window without a fight. Then, what next? Find a sword to fall on in front of the Griffin family to even the score?"

"Maybe."

"Well, what if I decide I don't like it? As your superior, I have the right to speak at the hearing. I'm going to try to keep your ass out of the fire with or without your help."

"Suit yourself. It won't change anything."

"That's right, dammit!" Karen dropped down on a chair beside the young man. "Sacrificing yourself won't change anything. Won't help."

Peter Caine pointedly ignored her pleading hand on his shoulder.

******

Detective Kincaid was only one of the many officers crowding around the precinct, waiting for news. However, he was the only one not watching the office of Captain Karen Simms. The others seemed ghoulishly enraptured, discussing the various shades of black and blue that were now Peter Caine's face. They were also placing bets on whether or not Kermit Griffin would get to Blood Lao before the investigating officers could.

Everyone, though, seemed to be in agreement as to what Kermit would do once he caught up with the teenaged terrorist. Kermit's career would then follow Peter's down the path of destruction

T.J. wandered downstairs to the water dispenser. As if in slow motion, he took a paper cup and strained his hearing to catch the conversation in the room. He could hear the rustling of papers, the slurping of coffee and voices muttering about the case. He listened more closely.

"Another day, another cop shot down in flames," one of them commented.

"This is not just another cop," a sharp voice interjected.

"Oh? You know Caine?"

"Not personally," the voice said. "I know his exploits. I know that his actions have cost us plenty in the past. And now, he'll finally burn for it."

"Careful, Saulters. You're not supposed to come to a judgment yet," a mild voice reminded him. "We are supposed to have a hand in the results, too."

"Of course." T.J. could just hear the ooze drip as Saulters smaltzed his way back into good graces. "I just meant that I doubt this time will be different from all the other times Caine went against SOP. Maybe now that he's no longer under his father's command, it won't slip through the cracks of bureaucracy."

A head stuck out the door, startling T.J. out of his mind. "Excuse me."

"Yes?" T.J., for a split-second, figured that his illustrious career had ended as well for eavesdropping.

"Tell Captain Simms that we're ready for Detective Caine."

"Yes, sir." T.J. slowly let out his breath as he tossed the paper cup away, climbed the stairs and made his way to the Captain's office. Ruminating carefully on what he had just heard, he filed it away for later use.

He rapped softly at the door. "Captain? Internal Affairs is ready for you downstairs."

He received a nod for acknowledgment and stepped out of the way. Peter Caine and Captain Simms left the sanctity of the office and wove their way through the prying eyes of the squad room. Karen led the way through a room divided by loyalties and fragments of information, with her troubled detective in tow.

Peter focused his eyes on her back, following her long blonde braid like a leash. For an instant, he thought he should straighten up and walk through that room like a man. Such an arrogant posture struck him as a luxury he didn't deserve. Shame kept his head bowed and his eyes glued downward as he walked. Numbly, he continued to the stairs that led down to the office where his Internal Affairs inquiry was to be held

Dead man walking. The phrase chimed for death row inmates seemed to suit him at this moment. Moving through the precinct halls - his temple - he felt the complete weight of his failure. Not cop. Not Shaolin. He had disgraced both.

"Are you ready?" Karen hesitated in front of the door to give him one more chance to change his mind. "I can still ask for a few hours' postponement so you can have council."

"What difference would it make, Captain?"

The look in his eye was nearly more that she could stand and remain the professional.

"It won't change the truth and I assume the truth is what's required here." He didn't wait for her agreement. Grasping the knob firmly, Peter twisted quickly and entered the lion's den.

"Detective Caine," greeted Captain Saulters, gesturing him to a seat in the center of the room. Noticing the battered condition of the younger man, he asked, "Are you in an appropriate condition for this inquiry, Detective? Mind telling us what happened to your face?"

"I'm fine, sir, just an accident."

"All right, Detective," he said in dismissal. "I want to remind you before we begin, you to have the right to have council at this inquiry."

"That won't be necessary, sir."

"Fine," came the reply as the chief investigator rejoined the other two members of the panel. Investigators Calloway and Roth also sat behind the large conference table behind tapes, legal pads, and other means of record-keeping.

The layout of the room didn't escape Karen Simms. IA always took the position of power and left the *victims* out in the unprotected center of the room. *Nowhere to hide,* she thought as Saulters waved at them to sit. As a career cop, she should be supportive of the Internal Affairs officers. Their goal was to keep the force clean and untarnished. A bad cop could be a virulent infection spreading through out the department. She should be grateful for the efforts of these officers to uncover corruption and inadequacy.

Not today.

"Captain Simms," Saulters announced in an authoritative cadence, "it's not necessary that you remain for the proceedings."

"Department procedure states that as Detective Caine's superior, I have every right to be present." Karen grabbed another chair and placed it conspicuously beside her besieged detective, demonstrating her position on his behalf with her position in the room.

"Very well," Saulters commented with obvious annoyance, "then let's get started." After quickly referring to his notes, he dove in with both barrels. "It is our understanding that you deliberately set up a ruse to paint the murder victim, one Jimmy Wong, as a snitch to local gang members."

"That's correct." The response was flat and brief.

"And the intention of this approach was?"

"To force Jimmy Wong to give me the information necessary to arrest Henry Lao for attempted murder."

Roth spoke up next. "So you INTENDED to make Jimmy Wong the object of a gang hit?"

"No, sir."

"You gave the kid money in public, Detective. Thanked him for his 'help' -- and you didn't expect to put him at risk?" Roth's voice dripped with sarcasm.

"Yes, I did, sir," came another emotionless response. "But I counted on the threat drawing him in to cooperate with the investigation."

Saulters took over once again. "And the thought never crossed your mind that the parties threatened with exposure might get to him first? I find that hard to believe, Detective." Before Peter could respond, Saulters held up a piece of paper for effect. "Detective Griffin says that he himself advised you against this course of action and pointed out this very possibility to you a good seven days before the incident on the precinct steps."

"That's correct."

"And you ignored his warning. The warning of a more experienced officer."

"Yes, sir."

"Why?"

"Because I didn't care."

The admission hung heavy in the air, bouncing his guilt off the walls and echoing it for all to hear. Karen felt sick to her stomach.

Peter continued to drive in the nails. "Jimmy Wong watched Blood Lao beat that old man nearly to death. I know it. Everybody knows it. I wanted that arrest and if those two little animals killed each other, then it was a gamble I was willing to take."

"A gamble that put a woman and child in the path of automatic gunfire? A situation that would never have existed without YOUR intervention?" Saulters shook the truth like a mutt rattling an old shoe.

Karen had to dive into the fray. Everything said thus far was the truth but it lacked perspective. At least it lacked *her* perspective. "In Detective Caine's defense, all officers take risks from time to time. The goal was to bring in a habitual criminal who has proven himself to be a threat to the entire community."

"How so, Captain?" asked Calloway, who had been listening intently to the proceedings. "Henry Lao is alleged to have beaten and robbed a man who can't identify him, and you now allege that this Blood Lao was the trigger man in a drive-by where there is no eyewitness or physical evidence to tie him to the crime."

"We know he did it, sir." Karen knew her arguments were lame. "If Detective Caine's plan of action had been successful-"

"We wouldn't have a dead juvenile or a woman clinging to her life by a thread in the hospital, OR BLOOD ALL OVER OUR COLLECTIVE HANDS!" Saulters punctuated his tirade with his fists on the desk.

Calloway, the more soft-spoken of the group, ignored his red-faced colleague and read from Detective Griffin's statement. Damning words dictated in a hospital corridor hours before. "Detective Griffin stated, 'It is my belief that Detective Peter Caine is solely responsible for instigating the events that have left my wife near death and caused the death of Jimmy Wong."

"What about the shooter?" protested Karen Simms, as she leapt to her feet. "You seem to have forgotten about the little bastard who pulled the trigger!"

"Sit down, Captain Simms! This inquiry is about Detective Caine." Calloway redirected the focus back to the now-silent officer. "Let's make this brief. Do you deny any of the statements made here in regard to the events and your part in creating the situation?"

"No, sir."

"Anything to say in your defense?"

"No, sir."

"I do," Karen forced calm to her voice as she stood up again then invaded the sanctity of the interrogation panel. "Detective Caine made an error in judgment. It happens to even the most experienced officer. The results have been dire and painful for all concerned. BUT," she locked eyes with each member of the panel, "I ask you to consider Detective Caine's record of service when you make your recommendations for handling this case. He has been an asset to this department and has, on more than one occasion, put his life on the line to protect and serve."

"That record is foremost in our minds, Captain," said Investigator Saulters. "Suspensions, reprimands, murder charges." Peter and Simms listened bleakly as Peter's past was brought up for inspection. Names, dates, places - all serving to show that Peter Caine took the law into his own hands. Saulters growled each fact as if pouring venom. "A sparkling record, indeed, Captain," the man continued. "Seems you suspended the good detective not six months ago."

Signed, sealed and delivered.

"If you have nothing further to add, Detective, consider yourself on suspension until we reach a final decision concerning your future with this department." Saulters closed the files with a snap as Peter Caine calmly left the arena followed by his defeated Captain.

Once they had cleared the doorway and were away from the prying eyes of the IAD, Karen Simms grabbed Peter's shirt sleeve. "Detective...." she pleaded softly. "...Peter...."

He shook himself free and placed both gun and badge into her hands. "So long, Captain."

Thomas Jefferson Kincaid appeared behind Captain Simms as Peter silently made his way out the precinct doors. "What happened?" T.J. asked in a hushed whisper.

Simms was not one to spread gossip. Ever. But the department would know soon enough. "Detective Caine was suspended," she said flatly. T.J. just stood there, silently, knowing that there was more. Finally, the shell around Captain Simms cracked just a bit. "He didn't defend himself," she said, almost more to herself than to T.J. "Just sat there and let it happen."

T.J. watched the emotions play over his superior officer's face. His gaze was puzzled, though, rather than sympathetic. "Was that Saulters running the investigation?"

"Yes."

"The tall guy with the mustache?"

Simms looked a bit startled. "Yes. So?"

"Oh, nothing." T.J. shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly and strolled away.

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