Hey! So I think this'll probably be the second to last chapter, aside from maybe an epilogue. Anyway, I hope you like it!
CHiPs does not belong to me. Stan and Ryan belong to Ponchygirl. I thank the Lord for His help in me posting this! Also, I'm not sure when the next chapter will be posted. I'm going to be extremely busy starting tomorrow. Pray for me, please!
"But the Way of the Ungodly Shall Perish"
Chapter 7
Ponch's mind raced. If he tried to escape or attack Stan during the ambassador's visit, Jon would pay. He shook his head in confusion and winced. They had wanted him to sound desperate, so Stan had let Ryan rough him up enough so he would be in pain. Fortunately, Ponch was their key to pulling off their heist. He now sported a few bruises and a headache along with the sprain on his wrist. Mentally shrugging off the pain, he concentrated. If he could only slip a note to Bonnie or Bear, he would be set. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pen. Stan had ordered him to get dressed for the big event and had left him to do so. He rapidly scribbled a note on a scrap of paper and stuffed both paper and pen into his pocket.
He would have to pray that the Lord would help him. Why had He not done it already? "Lord, why? You know what Stan and Ryan are doing! You know that I shouldn't be here! You know Jon shouldn't be stuck in that house with that guy! We were doing what's right. Why are they having good things happen to them?" Just then, a verse popped into his head. "Psalm 1:6," he quoted, "'For the Lord knoweth the way of the righteous: but the way of the ungodly shall perish.' I just need to trust You, don't I? I'm sorry for doubting You. I need Your help not to hate them, either. You know we were doing right. Please forgive me. Thank You! In Jesus' name I pray, amen." Instantly, he felt a wave of peace wash over him. The Lord knew what He was doing. He was the One Who had the plan.
His mind returned to when he had gotten kidnapped. He remembered watching Jon unlock the truck and suddenly having a grimy hand slap over his mouth. He had tried but had failed to make a sound. The perpetrator had dragged him away then. He had almost passed out from lack of air. When he had regained his senses, he had noticed that the attacker had dragged him to some hideout. He had awoken in a dingy room on a filthy couch beside an equally filthy wall. When he had stood up, Ryan had pushed him into the wall by his side. Ponch had cried out and accidentally bumped his head on the wall. After that, he had lost his balance and had tumbled to the floor, not thinking clearly because of the pain and shock. He had stretched out a hand to catch himself and ended up spraining it. Then Stan had picked up the telephone and, after dialing the number, had held it out for the person he had called to hear Ryan telling him he had better not tell Jon where they were. Ponch had barely gotten to talk to Jon when the telephone had been ripped out of his hands by Ryan, who had begun talking to Jon. Ponch had been seated by Stan. Stan had told him that he was only there so Jon would come and that he would be allowed to leave once Jon offered himself. Ponch had been able to tell that Stan was lying, but let it go.
Fifteen minutes later, Jon had run into the house, shouting, "Ponch! Ponch!"
Ponch had yelled out, "Jon!" and had strangely not been hushed by the criminals near him.
Jon had followed the sound to see Ponch sitting on the couch. He had ignored Stan and Ryan, choosing rather asking questions about Ponch's well-being. After ascertaining that he was all right, Jon had willingly given himself up in exchange for his partner.
Ponch had been taken to another room for him to get ready. For what, he did not know. He had been thrown his uniform with instructions to change into it, so that he did.
~-._.-*-._.-~
Ryan checked his wristwatch. Soon, he mused to himself, this'll be all over an' me and Stan'll have th' jewel! He checked on his prisoner. Poor Jon seemed to Ryan to have tired himself out. He was sitting with his head on his chest and his eyes closed. Ryan though, What a wimp! and went back to patrolling the area. Suddenly, his walkie-talkie crackled to life.
"D., this is Slick. Come in D." Stan's voice could be heard saying, though it was slightly distorted.
Ryan grabbed his device and, pushing down the button, stated, "This is D. What is it, Slick?"
"All's clear over here. What about with you?"
Ryan chuckled. "The kid worried 'imself out so much that 'e fell 'sleep! Some officer he is!"
Stan sighed. He had wanted Jon to feel the pain emotionally, something the young man could not feel when he was asleep. "Well, make sure he's awake when I do the stealing, all right? I want him to hear it and know that he was the cause of this. I got his uniform from his room, by the way. I had to search for it."
"Right." Ryan set down his walkie-talkie. He left then to get a salami sandwich he had been eating earlier. "You stay there quietly, kid." When Jon did not even so much as stir, the burly man left.
A few seconds later, Jon raised his head. "Thank You, Lord!" he whispered. He gazed around the room. He was only stopped from escaping by Ponch's being in trouble. If Jon left the room, he could take the walkie-talkie so Stan would never know! Then again, if he was caught, Ponch would suffer. He shook his head. God would just have to provide him a way of escape.
~-._.-*-._.-~
Getraer had sent Cristina and Francesca to Jon's house to at least make sure he was safe. When they got there, however, no one answered. The door was cracked open just barely, so they opened it. The living room looked fine, but there was no Jon. A mewing sounded faintly from the kitchen. When the two walked over there, they spotted a little black kitten with white on his belly, the top of his tail, and three of his paws. He looked up at them and let out another mew.
Cris figured he wanted to be picked up, so she gathered the tiny bundle of fluff into her arms. "Hey there, little fella! My name's Cris. What's yours?" She checked his tag to see his name. "Frankie, his name is Dorito! Aww!"
The kitten purred softly.
Cristina looked lovingly at him. With her tall frame and light brown hair, Cris was attractive. She was not strikingly beautiful, perhaps, like Francesca was but was attractive in her own way. The kitten batted at her shoulder-length hair playfully. "¡Tu eres muy adorable, gatito!"
Frankie laughed. "Yeah, the kitten is cute!"
Even though she knew Dorito could not talk, she asked him, "Where's Jon?"
Dorito just twitched his tail worriedly.
Frankie decided to check Jon's room. What she saw made her eyes widen. "Cris! His room's been ransacked!"
Cristina ran into the room, carrying Dorito. "What? What do you think the person was looking for?"
"Clothes, apparently." Frankie looked at the clothes strewn across the room. "I wonder why?"
~-._.-*-._.-~
Stan stared at Ponch, who was driving Jon's truck. Why didn't he hate me? Jonathan didn't, either. Sure, I saw fear in their eyes, but not anger or hatred. Why? I would hate anyone who would do that to me. He puzzled over the behavior Ponch and Jon had exhibited. He then remembered how Grace had not hated him, either. When he had checked up on Jon, he had found that Jon and Ponch were Christians. Now, if his son wanted to believe what he himself considered "all that pile of hullabaloo," that was fine with him. Still, he could not figure these Christians out. Here he was going out of his way to hurt them, but they would not even hold a grudge. He pondered that the whole way over to the ambassador's party. When they got there, just as Stan had planned, people thought he was Jon.
In fact, the moment they entered the building, a tall man with dark-brown hair came up to him. "Hey, Jon! I see you found Ponch!" He wore a white dress shirt underneath his tan suit. A pair of dark-brown dress shoes and a green tie completed the outfit.
Stan had to remind himself not to glare at the man. "Yes. He had seen a pretty girl and gone to get her number."
The man's brows furrowed. "But isn't he dating Frankie? He's not even once gone out with another girl since he met her."
Stan gave Ponch a look. He laughed nervously. Stan wanted him to cover for him. "Well, I was thinking that Jon needs a date." He beckoned the man closer. "After all, Bear," he whispered loudly, "I have the best girl in the world! Jon can't have mine, but he should have the second-best girl in the world!"
The man, presumably named "Bear," laughed.
Stan knew Ponch could tell Bear at any time, so he snapped his fingers. "Wait! Shouldn't you tell his friends? I'm sure they'll want to know he's safe!"
Ponch nodded warily. "Well, don't forget to tell Getraer you have a secret in your pocket."
Again an expression of confusion flitted across his face. "Sure."
Stan had not noticed, though, his attention on Ponch. Was he trying to tell that man something? When nothing suspicious showed itself, he relaxed. He watched as Bear walked away. "What were you talking about?"
Ponch waved it off. "It's a little inside joke," he lied. Immediately afterward, he felt guilty. No matter how much he tried to tell himself that it was for his own good that he had lied, he knew he had to make it right. He quickly prayed in his head and asked for forgiveness for both that lie and the one he had made about the girl he had "seen."
~-._.-*-._.-~
Bear walked to where he knew Getraer was stationed. "Sarge, I just saw Ponch."
Getraer's head whipped around. "What? Is he okay?" His light-blue eyes reflected his worry.
"He was standing by Jon, but Jon was acting weird. He . . . didn't seem like himself. Plus, he kind of looked haggard, like he'd been through a lot."
The sergeant ran a hand through his thinning brown hair. "Could it be?" he muttered. "What else did he do?" Surely Frank would've tried to get a message through.
"Well, he said something weird at the end when Jon told me to see you. He said, 'Don't forget to tell Getraer you have a secret in your pocket.' What did he mean by that?"
Getraer ordered, "Baricza, turn out your pockets."
Confused, Bear complied. His pants pockets were empty with the exception of a pen and his wallet. His shirt pocket held a tightly-folded piece of paper. "Hey, what's this? I don't remember this being here," Bear stated.
The sergeant snatched it and read it out loud. "'Help! The guy pretending to be Jon is Stan! The real Jon is being held at 142 Finn Lane by Stan Gordon's partner! Hurry! ~Ponch.' This is Frank's handwriting, all right." His eyes widened as he realized what that was saying. "Bear, get Bonnie and Grossie! We need to nab this guy."
Officer Baricza nodded and set off. He had been put there as a plainclothes policeman in light of all that had happened with Ponch's kidnapping. Getraer began to pray again.
~-._.-*-._.-~
As Stan and Ponch walked along, at least three different people came up to greet the, and exchange pleasantries. It seemed Jon and Ponch were quite popular. Already, four people, only two of them CHP officers, had come up to talk to Stan. He had nodded politely and tried his best to get them to leave quickly. His sights were set on the Peruvian jewel. His plan was to wait until no one else was looking, possibly using Ponch as a distraction, and then to steal it. He would wait for the perfect moment, though. He had observed that two different officers would relieve the current guards every hour on the hour, so he would just have to wait his turn. He checked his watch. There were only about twenty minutes left until the next switch. As for how he would bide his time, he was sure he would figure something out.
A young lady passed by, carrying a tray of snickerdoodles, Stan's favorite. He snagged one. "So," he whispered to Ponch, "why do you do it?"
Ponch cocked his head, confused. "Do what?"
"You know, act like you do. I hate you. I go out of my way to hurt you. Why don't you hate me back?" His voice sounded hard, but Ponch knew there was a hint of genuine confusion.
"Because Jesus loves you."
