As Peter passed through the front doors of the courthouse, he had a hazy recollection of having pushed his father away. The thought would not come into focus, though. There was no time. His thoughts were occupied with the line of people who where waiting to pass through the courthouse metal detector.
"I'm a police officer! Everybody out! There's a bomb in this room!" Reaching into his jacket, he yanked out his badge and displayed it for all to see.
Silence reigned as everyone turned in his direction and froze. Then chaos broke loose. People began to run toward the front exit. The two uniformed officers who stood on the opposite side of the large machine retreated further into the building behind a second set of reinforced doors.
A young man who had ran for the front exit turned and headed back toward the rolling belt of the metal detector.
"No! Leave now!" Peter reached for him to pull him back toward the doors.
"My back pack!" The young man pointed to the object that was rolling along the conveyor toward the innards of the metal detectors scanning system.
"Leave it!" Peter pushed him forcefully through the open front doors and followed him out.
Moments later he felt the blast shake the building to its foundations. And then the shock wave hit him from behind. He was flying, sailing through the air until he plowed into a blur of browns and greens and the smell of incense and dirt. All that followed was nothingness.
~*~ ~*~ ~*~
Caine rolled Peter onto his back as officers from within the courthouse appeared from other exits. Several officers attempted to calm the crowd, while another approached on Peter's opposite side. Harriet Wong stood back among the gathered group and Caine nodded gratefully in her direction.
"An ambulance is on it's way," the uniformed officer told him.
"He will be fine," Caine said to the young man who seemed intent on checking Peter's pulse and breathing for himself.
"The paramedics should still have a look at him. Why don't you monitor him for signs of shock till they come?" With that the young officer stood and breezed away to help his fellow officers.
"He will be all right." Caine did not look up, but continued to focus his attention on Peter. His nightmare had become reality, but his son was still with him. He ran a hand that held only the faintest of tremors along his brow.
The young man who had preceded Peter out of the door of the courthouse edged up alongside him. "Is he going to be okay?" he asked worriedly.
"He will be fine." Caine repeated the words he'd stated to the police officer. "He will awaken soon."
"Are you a doctor?"
"No." Caine looked up at the young man. "I am a Shaolin priest, and his father."
"Well I'm freaking out, here," the young man said. "How can you be so calm? I've never been through anything like that. If your son hadn't have kept me from going back for my back pack, I would be dead."
"Calm is often a covering for a turbulent spirit. True calm, though, that permeates ones soul is rare indeed."
"So which is it?" he asked with a hint of a smile. "You have a rare kind of calm, or you're just faking it?"
"Perhaps a little of both?" Caine found himself smiling in return.
"I wish I could have either about right now because I'm really not supposed to be here. I'm supposed to be holed up somewhere 'safe'. My brother is going to go through the roof when he finds out. So if you can spare even a little fake calm, I'd like to have it."
"You can have calm of your own," Caine assured him. "It is within you to do so. Trust in your knowledge of self. Accept the things that are as they are and then release your anxieties. Simply let them go."
"So that's how you do it?" the young man asked earnestly, leaning forward. "It's as easy as that?"
Caine's expression clouded. "Not always. Some things are very difficult to accept. The mind balks. But in life, like everyone else, I am but a student. All things require practice and often experience."
"I want to--" his statement was cut off by the arrival of Kermit Griffin and the FBI agent that had visited Peter's apartment two days prior.
Caine felt the shock that washed through the agent's system as his eyes settled on the young man who kneeled on Peter's opposite side.
"Brian?" The young man's wary gaze rose to meet that of the stunned-looking agent.
"Geoff? What are you doing here?" The agent's words sounded gruff and unyielding, but Caine could sense that there was more beneath the surface that the agent was hiding.
"I-I got a ticket. I had to go to court."
The agent looked from his brother to Peter and his expression darkened further. Throwing a meaningful look in Kermit's direction, he pulled a pair of handcuffs from an inner pocket and approached Peter.
"What are you doing?" Geoffrey asked, moving to block his brother's path. "He saved my life. If it wasn't for him, I'd be dead. You can't arrest him!"
"I'm taking him in for questioning." Agent Maxey brushed off his brother and lowered himself beside Peter. "You wouldn't understand."
"I would, and you're not taking him anywhere." Kermit's voice was low and dangerous as he positioned himself on Peter's opposite side. "You have no basis for arresting this man."
"Oh but I do. Detective Caine conveniently happened to be at the scene of both bombings. And he made no attempt to call for backup in either case."
"He was unconscious in both cases," Kermit pointed out. "He couldn't have placed those bombs."
"What about you, Griffin? You have the know how."
"Sorry, I prefer computers to things that go boom."
"Well they don't seem to like you. According to every database I checked, you don't exist. Even the DMV seems to have trouble finding the file associated with your license tag number."
"Probably a glitch in the system."
"I know what you are Griffin, and while I don't disagree with the need for your kind, I do think that you're dangerous and that someone or some thing needs to keep tabs on you."
"That won't be you and that won't be today."
"Maybe not. But if you don't get out of my way, I will have you cited for interfering in a federal investigation. If Caine is clean, he has nothing to worry about."
Agent Maxey reached for Peter's arm and Caine halted him with a raised hand.
"That will not be necessary."
"It certainly won't be." A woman's voice sounded from behind the group. Caine glanced over his shoulder to see a blonde-haired woman approaching. Captain Karen Simms walked at her side.
"I'd like to second that," Simms stated.
~*~ ~*~ ~*~
Peter opened his eyes to see a dozen blurred images hovering over him. Stifling a groan at the pain that positively jack-hammered through his brain, he struggled to focus his vision. The dozen images coalesced into more-or-less four masculine faces and a pair of dangling hand-cuffs.
Agent Brian Maxey, the bearer of the hand-cuffs looked furious. The angrily spoken words that he began to say to someone out of Peter's limited field of vision confirmed that idea. Caine, seeming to sense his son's discomfort, reached a hand for his brow and rubbed a thumb along his temple. Peter felt a little of the pain ease. He couldn't contain the sigh of relief that escaped him.
The small noise seemed to draw the attention of Kermit, Maxey and the vaguely familiar young man who was likewise leaning over him. Disliking the disadvantage of being flat on his back while something big was obviously going down, Peter carefully pushed himself into a sitting position. He almost made it without letting on that he felt as if his gut was taking a ride on white water rapids.
Everyone began to speak in his direction at once.
"What the hell did you think. . . ?"
"Thank you so much. . . "
"I. . . I. . . "
"Detective. . ."
"You must rest."
Peter closed his eyes and winced. The addition of another voice brought his eyes open again.
"Are you all right, Sir?"
He looked up into the face of a red-haired Emergency Medical Technician and groaned. He had no recollection of how he'd ended up flat on his back on the grass in front of the municipal courts building, but judging by the concerned expression his father speared him with, it was going to be a doozy.
