Savannah watched as Kermit pulled up to a restaurant. "No, Kermit," she said, "I'm not h-h-h-hungry. I just...want to...go home to my dau....dau...child. I want to meet her. Please."

Kermit turned off the motor and turned to look at her. He took her hand in his and she was once again struck by the caring of this man. His tender way of looking at her and loving her. "Savannah," he said softly, "we're still a few minutes from home. I just wanted to give you some time to relax." Savannah opened her mouth to protest but Kermit squeezed her hand. "Sweetheart," he said calmly, "you've had a shock. Several big ones. You were in a safe hospital and now, all of a sudden, you have an instant family that you don't remember."

Savannah shook her head. "I love you..."

Kermit smiled. "You don't know how that makes me feel to hear you say that. But, Savannah, I've been by your side since you woke up. You know me, you're used to seeing me. You're going to be facing more shocks and I want to help you the best that I can. I thought we could go in here, have a quiet meal together and maybe I could tell you a few things that you want to know before you see Kat. What do you say?" He quirked a smile at her. "Don't tell me for once in your life you're turning down the chance for fried chicken and chocolate for desert?"

She laughed. Must be some Southern thing.

"I know every time I have a hospital stay," Kermit grinned, "I always crave real food as soon as possible."

"Have you had many hospital stays?"

"Too many to suit me," he smiled. "C'mon, I think some hot food might do you a world of good."

It was true, she did feel jittery. She looked up at her husband's sunglasses. "You are so sw...eet," she said softly. "And wise..."

He squeezed her hand. "Well, let's not spread it around. I have a reputation to uphold." Reluctantly disengaging from her hand, he got out, walked around the car, and helped her out.

Minutes later, they were tucked away in a large circular booth, far enough away from other patrons to feel comfortable about talking freely. Kermit didn't care much if they were sitting to close together like a couple of teenagers. They'd given the waitress their orders and instantly held hands under the table.

"Where do you want to start?" Kermit asked gently.

Questions. She felt free to ask questions! For so long, Savannah's only focus had been twisted inside herself, shackled by lack of language and fear of reaching out or intruding. Now, she knew. He was hers and she was free and she wanted to know everything! Fear was gone. "You. Do you always wear sun...glasses indoors?"

"Most of the time," he said, not wanting to get into that horror story yet. It was tough enough the first time. "I don't wear them at home. Let's just call it...'chameleon coloring.'"

"You're a very pr--rivate man," Savannah mused out loud. She remembered that, all the time in the hospital, when they talked, it was about her, or current events or anything else but him. "If you're not a d-d-doctor," she said with a smile, "what do you do?"

"I'm a police detective on leave," Kermit told her. "Family leave."

"Kermit...that's a lot of l-leave time!" Savannah exclaimed. "You've been with me for...how long?"

"You were in a coma for six months, but I wasn't on leave for the entire time. I took leave when you regained consciousness. I have an understanding captain," Kermit said, as the waitress brought their lunch. "Besides which, I did a little computer work at nights when I went home to be with Kat."

"Your lap...top!" Savannah exulted, delighted that she had remembered something.

"That's right," Kermit nodded. Painfully, he noticed how much trouble she was having trying to grip the knife tightly enough to cut her meat. Her finer skills of coordination would progress over time. But, today, she needed help. Discreetly, Kermit took the knife and performed the task quickly, to spare her as much embarrassment as possible.

"Thank you," she whispered quietly, embarrassed but moved at the same time. As they both dug into their meal, she returned to the subject of her husband. "So, you're a detective? Can I see your b...badge?" she asked, out of curiosity. With an amused expression, he gave it to her and she examined it. "Do you have a gun?"

"It's not standard issue," he told her, pulling out the weapon under the table to show her. Her eyes showed her surprise at the Desert Eagle.

"They let you c-c-carry something like that?"

"I have an understanding captain," Kermit repeated, holstering the weapon.

Savannah shook her head. It was hard to believe that Kermit answered to anyone, even a police captain. But then again, he did carry a gun the size of a cannon.

"How long have we been married?"

"Two years, three months. You were the new accountant at the precinct. That's where we met."

"And we fell in love, married, and had K...Kat so quickly?" she asked and instantly backpedaled at the look on Kermit's face. "What is it?"

Kermit sighed. "We had a lot of trouble getting together," he managed. He didn't know how to satisfy her curiosity without scaring her out of her mind. He stared at his plate and stalled, until she took his hand.

"Kermit, I understand," she said softly. "I know there's a lot of in...formation. I don't mind the c..con..densed version for now. Just take your time. I know this is h..hard for you, too...."

He laughed. "You're making it sound like I was the one just out of the hospital." She smiled encouragingly and he nodded. "Okay. There is a lot of information. But basically, it was we fell in love, got married, and had Kat..... but it was a close thing."

"Oh," she sighed.

"We both went through hell, but after we got married, everything worked," he assured her. "Everything was...right. I've been thankful every single day since I met you."

Savannah smiled. "Then what happened after K-Kat was born?"

"Oh, we had occasional pitfalls," Kermit winked, trying to sound comical. "Your parents hated me, I hated them, my estranged son decided to show up for a visit, but always, in the end, we worked it out and made peace."

"My parents...? And your son?"

"Your parents are in Memphis," Kermit told her. "Your mother and brother came to visit you here but you were still...pretty ill. I finally told them to go back home and try again when you were stronger. Your dad's health, which is fine now, wasn't good at the time so it was better that way for them." Kermit decided to tell her about her father's heart later. "And my son...Jim is a major in the Air Force."

"So you were di...vorced?"

"Yes." Again that quirky smile. "You are Number Four in the Griffin Hall of Matrimony."

Savannah's jaw dropped. "Four?!"

Kermit smiled. "Glad I finally got it right."

Savannah snickered. She would have never imagined that this careful, cautious man would have stumbled in the matters of love, especially three times. There was definitely more to this man than met the eye. But now, there was something else she had to know. "Wh...what exactly happened to me, Kermit?" she asked. "How did I get shot?"

Kermit held his breath. "You were caught in a drive-by shooting in front of the precinct." Savannah seemed to absorb the information normally, so he continued. "You saved Kat's life. You huddled over her, protecting her."

"K..Kat was...someone shot at our b..b...baby?" The look of horror on her face drew his arm around her shoulders.

"Yes. They were after another gang member and you were in the way. Coming to pick me up for lunch, actually." At her trembling, he held on tighter.

"But she...she...wasn't h...hurt? Oh God, Kermit," she moaned, "she must have been t...t...terrified. M-my poor baby."

Kermit marveled at the power of mother instinct. Nothing could stop it. "She was a little shaken up at first. The adjustment was pretty drastic; but her pediatrician suggested a few sessions with a therapist. She reassured me that Kat wouldn't have any lasting effects from the trauma." This had become too intense. Savannah was tiring quickly, as demonstrated by her deteriorating speech. Changing the topic quickly, he said, "That's enough for today. Why don't we just finish our lunch?"

Taking a nervous bite, Savannah complied. After a few moments of acceptance, she asked quietly, "Did they c...catch the person who...who...shot me?"

"No," he answered reluctantly. "The suspect is long gone and there were no eye-witnesses." Seeing the fear well up in her eyes, he added quickly, "But you don't have to be afraid. He left the country and there hasn't been a whisper of the guy in almost a year. I'm here to keep both of you safe. All you have to concentrate on is...."

A puzzled expression from her still frail features stopped his reassuring words. Haltingly, as if repeating a long forgotten poem, she stumbled over words. "C...c...concentrate...all...your... energy to heal. You said that to me s...somewhere. Didn't you?"

"Yes," he confirmed, awestruck at what that memory meant. "In the hospital the day of the shooting. You were unconscious. You could hear me?"

Shaking her head, she felt the threads of memory fading. "I don't know...I...I...just have those w...words in my mind."

"That's enough for today," he said, calling a halt to the revelations. "We'll get into our past before us on another day." Motioning for the check, he squeezed her hand. "Now, let's go home so you can meet the other woman in my life."

Taking his supportive hand to help her rise from the table, Savannah answered without thinking, "Oh yeah."

******

After the twenty minute drive, they pulled up in the driveway of a little blue house with shutters on the windows. Kermit jumped out and opened her door. Taking her arm, he lead her to the back door. Despite her excellent recovery, she still had trouble keeping her balance.

Karen met them at the door. "Welcome home, Savannah. I'm Karen Simms."

"Hello, K...aren. I'm sorry...but..."

Smiling warmly at her, Karen answered, "It's all right. You'll get to know me again. Kermit, Kat's in the nursery."

"I'll go get her," Kermit answered. "Why don't you go into the living room and rest, Scarlett?"

"Scarlett?" She looked at him, confused.

"I called you that sometimes. Be right back."

Karen helped her into the living room. As soon as they sat down, a familiar voice filled the air. "Cookie! Cookie! Cookie!!" Kat burst into the room, wide awake from her nap and raring to go. She rounded the corner into the living room and skidded to a stop, appraising the crowd.

She's so beautiful. Savannah held her breath and soaked in the sight of the little curly-haired child. This is my child, she thought, spellbound by the sight of her. Savannah was about to reach out her arms when Kat spied Karen.

"REN!" she shouted and ran straight to Karen, throwing tiny arms around her waist.

Karen wished that she could disappear. She had never intended to take Savannah's place. Inadvertently, she had slipped into the mother role. Trying to avoid hurting the mother who'd just returned, she attempted to coax Kat to go to her mother. "Kitty Kat, go see mama."

"No! Cookie, Ren." Kat ignored Savannah and pulled Karen's hand.

The hurt poured out of Savannah's face. There were no tears yet, only waves of nearly visible sorrow flowing out into the room. Savannah had been so concerned that she didn't remember her own child, it hadn't occurred to her that the child wouldn't remember her.

Karen tried to guide the toddler back to her mother with little success. All Kat wanted was a hug from Karen and a cookie. She couldn't care less about the stranger sitting beside her.

Kermit wanted kick himself. He'd been so wrapped up in this fantasy of his wife's homecoming. He had envisioned Kat running into her arms. Tears of joy from them all. It never crossed his mind that the baby would choose Karen first. "Scarlett...she's just confused...I..."

Smiling through her sadness, Savannah cut off his comforting. "It's all right. She's just a li-little girl and I have been g-g-gone a long time....I think I need to ...lie d-d-down for a while."

"Sure." Kermit nodded to Karen, who then took Kat to the kitchen for a snack. Halfway to the bedroom, Savannah's tears exploded. "It's all right, Scarlett. It'll come back. For all of us." Kermit helped her onto the bed and covered her so that she could rest.

******

"Whose baby are you?" Kermit teased baby Kat as she padded around the floor around him. It was amazing to him that in the middle of what seemed to be a storm of pain and confusion, this one little bright light could make it better. Easier to bear.

"Daaaaaaddy's baby!" Kat threw herself on top of her father's chest and giggled into his face. Kermit lay on the floor, laughing back at her.

Over the back of the recliner, Savannah asked softly, "C...can I p...play?" Even now, after she'd made so much progress, she still struggled with words when she was nervous or upset. And she WAS nervous. More than anything, she wanted to belong in this family that seemed to belong to her. Looking around the room, there were pictures of them together. One wall in the den was covered with them. Tiny moments of history that didn't exist in her mind - and perhaps, they never would.

The centerpiece of a table below the hanging photos was a wedding picture. Savannah, obviously pregnant, in a soft white dress. Flowers in her hair, holding hands with Kermit. They were facing each other when the candid photo was snapped. Captured in a moment of happiness, ignoring the other friends in attendance. Savannah was looking up at him, smiling. Kermit was smiling back, resting his hand on her round belly.

"Sure. But be warned...she doesn't fight fair. Just like her ole man. Ump!" Kermit grunted as a giggling Kat threw herself down on his chest again.

Savannah, using the chair for support, eased herself down beside them. They were so beautiful together. Savannah could see herself in those tiny green eyes and dimples but the dark hair and intensity marked her as her father's daughter. Not a cautious bone in that little body. Every grin and giggle made her mother feel lighter, which was quite a feat in the midst of all these strange possessions.

Reaching out to the stereo cabinet beside her, Savannah pulled out a CD. 'Madame Butterfly.' Looking over to her husband, she asked, "Do I like this?" She waved the case in his direction.

He laughed and answered, "Opera? No, you just pretend to like it because I do. The blues CDs are yours. And I really do like those, too."

"G...gee. I'm nicer th...than I thought."

All at once, Kat bounded over to her mother and shoved a cookie into her face. "BITE!"

"Don't mind if I do." She took a bite of Kat's offering. "Mmmmm...chocolate chip. My favorite...I think." Kat plopped down on Savannah's lap and swapped bites with her. By the time it was all gone, Kat was snuggling on her mother's shoulder and playing with her long hair.

Kermit eased up off the floor and left to two alone. He faded into the kitchen and started dinner, close enough to come quickly if needed, but far enough away to allow them a moment alone. It hadn't escaped his notice that Savannah's speech had improved as she and Kat played there together. Relaxing allowed her words to flow easily.

After about twenty minutes, he noticed the babbling had stopped. Looking around the corner, he found a sight he had dreamed of for months. Savannah was lying back on the floor with Kat sleeping peacefully on her chest. Both bodies at ease and rest. He picked up a quilt from the back of the couch and dropped it over them. "Sleep tight, ladies."

******

He should be sleeping. She was in the next room, body not miles away in a hospital, and mind in the here and now. Still, the urge to be certain overwhelmed any fatigue he was feeling. Hours ago, he had peeled Kat's huddled little body off of her mother, then lifted Savannah into his arms and carried her to her room. It wasn't time to join her there yet.

This would be Kermit Griffin's fifth trip down the hall to listen to her breath. To pull the blanket over her shoulder. To brush back her hair and nearly burst with relief that Savannah was back in the middle of that enormous bed. In their blue house on a quiet street in a painfully friendly neighborhood. He belonged there because of her. His passport to a normal life.

Kermit remembered these same nocturnal trips when Kat was a newborn. The hysterical laughter on the night he had run into Savannah on his way into the nursery as she tried to sneak back to bed. Savannah laughing at the merc rattled by a peacefully sleeping baby. The merc laughing at her crumbled facade. Tumbling into bed and making love through that laughter.

Light was seeping from around the crack of the door. It was 3:00 a.m. Pushing over the door with urgency, Kermit took in the empty bed, the empty bathroom. "Scarlett?"

"Here," came the call from beside the bed. Sitting there swathed in a pile of rumpled clothing, Savannah looked up at him. Eyes full of the lingering turmoil that remained from her ordeal. "Sorry, K..Kermit. I didn't mean to wake you."

Her apologies drew him to her side. "You didn't wake me. Are you all right?" Kermit watched quietly as she peeled a bright blue sweater over her head. She'd evidently tugged half a dozen over her nightgown only to ball them up and toss them to the floor.

Releasing a tormented breath, Savannah stared up into the clothes and adornments that belonged to another woman. Not her. Beautiful things saved just for her. A loving testament to a man's faith that she would return home. But she hadn't. Not that woman. Would she ever?

"I'm fine," she whispered, leaning over on his shoulder as Kermit took a place beside her. Seeing him without the armament of his suit and shades made him seem different somehow. It was the first time she's seen him this way. Shirtless, wearing pajama bottoms. Still formidable. But now, his vulnerability brushed against her. In a way, he seemed as lost as she. "N-nothing fits. It's all...too big."

Looking at the pile of clothes spoke volumes about her longing to fit into this life again. "This your way of telling me you want to go shopping?" A giggle. Short and soft against his chest.

"My days and nights are still sorting themselves out," she explained. "I thought I'd take a look at my...her..."

"Hey, this is your house and these are your things. Explore all you want." He kissed the silky head that lolled below his chin.

"I know you're r..r..right, Kermit. But I feel like I'm taking another woman's place. The woman you've been waiting for." Her voice broke at the perceived failure. "I want to fit. To be worthy of all this p..patience. To be a good m-mother to that little girl. To be a good wife." Closing her eyes and fighting to straighten a wrinkled brow, she whispered, painfully, "But....but I don't know how."

Taking her face in his hands and pouring every ounce of conviction he could muster into his words, he answered, "My God, woman. Do you have any idea how you amaze me? By all rights you should be dead. But you fought and clawed your way back and I'm the one who's trying to be worthy of you."

The comfort eased her worry for the moment. He didn't expect anything from her. Even if she stayed this way forever. "I love you."

"And I love you, Scarlett. Every beautiful, emotional, funny, loving inch of you." Pulling her into the shelter of his arms, he murmured the last, "We've got time, now. Our time. Yours, mine, and Kat's."

Encased in the sanctuary of this man she'd grown to love, Savannah relaxed and let sleep return. No need to battle the mental barriers any further this night.

******

The walls of Peter Caine's apartment flickered with warm candlelight. Heavy blue darkness lay outside the window as the city slept. It was three in the morning and Peter, dressed only in his skin and shorts, stood barefoot and wide awake in the midst of glittering columns of wax. Closing his eyes, he soaked in the warmth from the clean flames.

In the solace of his cleansing circle of fire, Peter collapsed his long legs and sat folded on the floor. Moments passed as his bare legs adjusted to the cold slap of wood. Reclaiming his old, comfortable position, he rested the backs of his hands on his knees. He opened his mind.

Senses sprang to life in the thick silence. It had been so long since he had felt this freeness.....this lightness. The months of pain and self loathing had wrapped him in a scar tissue that had nearly choked his will to live. Now, something was reaching out to reckon with his soul. Visions of Savannah were assaulting him, calling him to face his dragon. Searches without had been futile. Denial, an evil fester to his wound. Now, in the solitude of his home, inside his mind, Peter dared to look within.

Falling from the tangible to the fragile void of being, Peter left behind the comfortable reality of his orderly apartment. Sailing through that illusive door into self, he breathed in the essence of mental scent and taste. Life swirled within his body. Blood and breath beat a rhythm that slowly calmed inside him chest. Flesh and consciousness blurred. All that remained was existence. Pure waves of Peter Caine.

He had avoided this luxury. Avoided the sanitizing purge of examination. The time to wallow in guilt had passed. To live, there must be truth. Too many candles, came the side thought, slipping through. Tongues of heat licked all around, soothing then biting his naked chest. Riding those waves of sensation, Peter sought out the pain.

Anger, the root of all discord in his life, rose through a shimmering heat to greet him. Since the beginning, that anger had part of him. Anger that lived and breathed and swelled to become all. Unyielding fury. Anger had ruled his decisions so many times, shoving his father away, coloring his judgment.

Peter stood back in his mystic observatory and watched as Anger's molten form oozed before him. Long tendrils of red reaching out to sear and destroy. On occasion, he had commanded Anger, sending it out to scorch his enemies and protect his charges. Other times, the anger had ruled. Knowing its presence, its form, helped to remind him to be the master.

Anger had made the decision to set up Jimmy Wong. Nodding in acceptance, Peter looked at the mound of fury. Impassively, he moved on.

Morbid Guilt waved up to greet him next. Taking the form of a sickly gray cloud, Guilt stroked his cheeks with misty cold fingers. Peter felt his tears drain behind Guilt's icy touch on his flesh. Guilt filled the insubstantial corridor of Peter Caine's mind, then suddenly flung its smoky arms wide. Blood spattered his name over fallen bodies. Jimmy Wong. Savannah. Nameless other victims butchered on that bright spring afternoon. He could lay claim to that emotion. Knowing the form of Guilt would help remind him to be the master.

Peter moved on down the path of his mind, still searching.

Suddenly, his body tensed with the agony of a soul destroying ache. Turning away, another pain flared in surprising intensity. Betrayal. Peter turned his face away from billowing crystals of Betrayal. Escaping shards stung his mental eye as the glacier of Betrayal grew and shattered and grew again. Plowing around his being....refusing to be ignored.

Willing himself to look, Peter absorbed Betrayal. Faithless turning away by a friend. Betrayal bore a face. Kermit's face.

No! Peter turned away. Gulping air, he turned away. The embracing discontinued. Anger resurfaced, plowing scalded arrows through Kermit Griffin's illusive representation and melting the visions into murky, rancid fluid. Anger, Guilt, and Betrayal all clutched at his flesh as Peter struggled to break free.

This wasn't the ordered expedition he had desired. He felt himself suffocating. With the effort of one final mental jerk, Peter tore his limbs free from the emotional assault that threatened to squeeze out his reason. Turning to run back into reality, Peter ran head long into the vision he had sought to understand and dispel.

No!

Peter felt his body rocking with the sweaty force of sensations. Savannah rocked on her knees in the wavering tissue of his mind. The same vision as before. Sparkling glass littered the floor around her legs. Her face contorted in confusion and fear. "Kermit...I have to find Kermit!" she chanted, reaching for some unknown object in her panic. Sounds of screaming and thundering gunfire. A soft blonde head falling into his arms.

"NO!" His voice echoed through the stillness of his home. Back inside the shelter of reality, Peter lay shivering in the center of fading globs of wax. His heart pounded with rage and frustration as he anchored himself in the present. The floor was real. The silence was real. He was home.

Home. Without the answers or comfort he craved, Peter dragged his sweat-soaked body from the floor and back to his bed.

******

Kermit eyed the telephone on his desk carefully. His first day back at the precinct found him less than focused on police work. Intellectually, the detective knew Savannah was in good hands. The nurse sent by Van Winkle Home Care was competent. He had spent the better part of an hour briefing her on the alarm system, particulars of their home and life, and what steps to take if anything unusual happened. The nurse had smirked at him -- something he despised -- when he reminded her that Savannah was prone to seizures and tired easily.

Savannah liked the nurse and interupted Kermit's third degree by practically shoving him out the door. She seemed eager to have him return to work.

Maybe too eager.

Reaching for the phone, he decided to speak to her once more, just to be sure.

"Welcome back, Kermit!" Mary Margaret flounced into the room, throwing a warm hug around her friend's shoulders. She smiled as he tried to put down the receiver without her noticing. "I just talked to her and she's fine."

Mary Margaret perched on the side of Kermit's desk and watched with amused interest as the man nervously chewing the inside of his lip. Dark-suited arms folded themselves away to keep from reaching again for the phone.

"What did she say?" Kermit leaned back in his chair and looked up at Skalany's bursting grin.

"That she could have been finished with her physical therapy in one hour instead of two if you hadn't called every five minutes." Catching Captain Simms's eye through the open door, Skalany waved. "Looks like it's time for the briefing." She rose and moved toward the door, Kermit following.

"Women," he grumbled. "We don't call, you're all over us to be more attentive. We do call, and you complain. Fickle bunch." Kermit tailed the dark haired detective through a jumble of desks and greetings. He didn't want to be here. He wanted to be across town, standing guard, protecting his wife instead of nameless strangers.

Rounding the corner into the conference room, and accepting a rare smile from Frank Strenlich, he made an effort to pull his mind back from miles away. It only took a total of three seconds for his old familiar scowl to jolt T.J. from Kermit's customary seat against the wall. Easing down into the worn wooden chair, the elder detective enjoyed the solid feel of the furniture and his place in the group. Rocking back, he tossed his feet up onto the table.

Maybe it felt better to be here than he thought it would. The precinct confusion welcomed him once again. T.J. was babbling something to Jody about jewelry he "could get a great deal on." Frank was stomping around in his shirt sleeves and shrunken tie, tossing information sheets on the new operation at each detective. Morgan grumbled in the corner.

Green glasses were focused on his gift from Frank when the temperature dropped in the room. Sharp intakes of breathe and razor-edged tension signaled the change. Kermit looked up to watch his enemy stride into the room and sit across the table from him. The ex-mercenary blankly took in Karen Simms's stern expression, as she sat down beside Peter Caine.

The urge to throw himself over the expanse of conference table came and went quickly. Capturing the fury within an impassive shield, Kermit locked it away. The embers smoldered, as he listened to Captain Simms take control of the meeting.

Karen Simms took charge with all the starched woolen authority she possessed. "Good morning. I won't waste time with unnecessary past history concerning this operation. Tomorrow afternoon, we are going to blow a large hole in organized crime here in Chinatown. I want everyone sharp and focused and well versed in the details. No screw ups allowed."

Kermit drilled his vision through Peter Caine's temple, waiting for a reaction.

"Peter is the contact. His snitch has given us a time and place to bust Dickie Carlton and Wu Nei in the middle of a two million dollar drug deal." Karen tapped photos of the suspects with her nail as she scanned the room and her staff.

"Whoa!" snapped Skalany, giving a whistling comment. "Two of the biggest street dealers in the city. Big time."

"And BOTH slobbering to impress one Bon Bon Hai and be welcomed into the family." Peter spoke for the first time, directing his comments to everyone in the room, including Kermit Griffin.

"Who's the snitch?" T.J. asked from the opposite end of the table.

"Carlton's wife." Peter stood up to peel back a crisp paper pad on and easel in the corner. Pointing to a diagram of the Gallaria, Peter said, "Carlton drags his wife on every deal. She's decided to help bring him down rather than be an accessory."

Kermit's hearing took in the fog of details as Peter went through his briefing. His consciousness split in two. One side of his being soaking in each phase of the impending operation. The other simply hated Peter Caine. Hated his smooth, confident speech. Hated his balance as the young man moved about pointing and gesturing. Hated his new found confidence.

Peter wove his plan before the group, under the scalding glare of Kermit Griffin. Carlton and Nei elected to make their exchange in public, demonstrating their non-existent faith in each other. A classic drugs-for-cash scheme that held no honor between thieves.

"Mrs. Carlton gave us a time and place. All we have to do is take up positions here, here, and here," Peter scratched X's on the diagram of an upper level food court area, " and move in when the exchange is made."

"Too dangerous," Kermit said in a flat tone of voice. "Bust them before they come into the building and you won't put any civilians at risk."

"No." Peter took up the challenge. "We have to get the exchange for a solid bust against both parties." His voice remained steady. "We'll limit traffic in the area as much as possible without giving away our positions."

"Then wait till they leave the building." Kermit dropped his feet to the floor. All postures in the room tensed.

"Part of the problem here is that both of these factions are trying to out shine the other." Peter stood his ground, as the rest of the room held its breath. "If we don't move in immediately, it's likely that one or both will try a double cross to get away with the drugs AND the money. That's what we have to avoid, stray gunfire."

Simms sliced the tension with her command presence. The term "stray gunfire" had to be diffused. "Kermit, I want you to go now and make contact with mall security. Brief them and coordinate our undercover ops."

No one was breathing in the room as Kermit stood with deadly slowness. He pushed himself upward, palms flat against the polished tabletop. Fading from the rigid posture of anger, the detective began and easy slouch around the table toward Peter Caine. When he reached Karen Simms's side, he oozed cooperation and sarcasm. "Sure thing, Captain." Burning green lenses up at Peter Caine, he shoved the frames more tightly into his face. "I'll line up the coroner while I'm at it."

Karen hissed her disapproval through gritted teeth. "Don't start a pissing contest in my precinct, Kermit."

The entire room gasped for oxygen as Kermit smiled a savagely hostile grin and then exited, leaving the razor edges of his hatred behind him. Peter continued to watch the door, doubt beginning to chisel away at his momentary confidence.

Simms refused to give credibility to Kermit's individual agenda. "That's it, people." She waved an adjournment. "Go do your homework."

The other detectives filed out, tactfully ignoring another family squabble.

"Glad to see the tiger instead of the mouse, Detective Caine." Karen insinuated herself in Peter's sorrowful line of sight.

"What?" Peter shook himself away from those familiar thoughts. Guilt waved a smoky greeting before fading. "Oh....what if he's right? Again?"

"Trust yourself, Peter." Karen gave her most confident smile. "Don't gauge yourself against Kermit's personal thought processes." She looked out the doorway in time to catch a trademark Griffin door slam. "At this moment, I trust your reasoning and motivations more than his."

Peter nodded and sat back down to go over his plan once more as the captain quietly left him to his privacy. No detail would go unchecked.

Not this time.

*****

The door rattled behind his fury as Kermit locked himself away. He paced for a few moments. The motion kept his hands from crashing something against the wall. Over and over, he walked the L-shaped path through his homey high-tech clutter. Blood roared in his ears.

Slowly, the caged animal inside his chest began to weaken. After ten minutes, he had stopped growling. Building a box around his anger, Kermit returned to his chair.

Work. That was all he could do. He couldn't stop Peter Caine from his recovery. He couldn't heal his wife. But, he could do his best to protect the innocents that would find their way into Peter Caine's plan tomorrow afternoon.

Scratching his mouse over the desktop, Kermit brought his computer screen to life. Venturing out into the virtual world, he was immediately greeted by a barrage of email. Scanning the list of subjects crossing his screen, Kermit snapped to attention at one familiar user id.

Waiting for the long list of mail to download, the ex-mercenary felt his pulse quicken. He had waited for months for this message from AOD@transpacific.com.

"Angel of Death," Kermit groaned as he clicked that message to full screen. "Tage you're one self-impressed moth--"

His mumbling stopped as the words printed before him. 'End of story' was the only message floating over a JPEG file be opened. Clicking the file icon, Kermit watched the scanned image of a newspaper clipping bleed down over his monitor. The report was in English, ripped from a condensed version of the news published for American tourists.

Kermit read the words and felt his face break into a malevolent smile. 'An American student and two as yet unidentified males were killed Monday afternoon in a automobile crash on the outskirts of Beijing. According to witnesses, the late model sedan in which the boys were traveling was being pursued by another vehicle. The vehicle was forced from the road and submerged in a rain-filled drainage ditch. All occupants of the crashed automobile were pronounced dead at the scene. Local authorities are still searching for the other vehicle involved.'

Kermit deleted the message. Lacing his fingers behind his head, the man rocked back in his chair. "Shit happens, kid," he mumbled with morbid satisfaction, then picked up the phone to do his job.

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