The Heart of a Man: Part 2



Peter shared a quick look with Jody, before moving slowly to the carpet, careful to keep his weapon hidden beneath his jacket. He surreptitiously followed the gunmen's movements as one of them took up a position near the exit, facing outward to cover the group's flank. Another moved farther into the store, but didn't stray very far from his companion, covering Peter, Jody and a miscellaneous member of the rented security force. The two other masked men moved purposefully around the glass counters and headed toward the back of the store where Peter had earlier glimpsed a huddle of security guards and sales clerks.

Peter detected the minute movement as the gunman covering the inside of the store focused his attention toward the security guard. Ignoring the tightness of his out-of-practice muscles, he shot to his feet. In a smooth motion, he swept his right leg out and took the gunman's feet from under him. He caught the man's automatic weapon before it had a chance to hit the floor. In his peripheral vision, he saw Jody delivering an elbow to the back of the masked man who had been covering the store entrance. Peter heard her loudly identifying herself as a police officer as her struggle continued through the doors and out into the mall.

The other two masked men appeared carrying a large blue case just as Peter delivered a spin-kick to the disarmed thief who had regained his feet. The man was going down even as Peter turned to face the new arrivals. Grasping the automatic weapon in both his hands, he used it as a baton to knock the nearest robber off balance. In a flurry of shocked motion, the man stumbled back into the glass display counter. The surface gave under his weight and toppled, scattering glittering gems, gold and glass across the lushly carpeted floor.

The remaining masked man brought his weapon to bear just as Peter's left foot connected with the gun, sending it tumbling across the room. The perp raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, backing frantically away. Peter, still on guard, smirked at the cowardly motion. "Amateurs," he murmured sarcastically as he lazily aimed his own weapon at the man.

Reaching for his cuffs, he half turned to ensure that the other two men were still down. Suddenly the sound of Jody's voice cut through the air. "No! Stay back!"

Peter's head jerked around in time to see a little girl appear in the doorway. "Mommy?" the girl called in wide-eyed fear, grasping two large plastic cups to her chest for dear life.

In the next moment, Peter heard a woman's yell echoing from the back of the store. "No! Johanna!" He spun at the sound of the voice and looked directly into the face of the past. ~Jenine.~ The name seared through his mind, shocking his system.

Peter turned toward the child who was beginning to take quick, frightened steps farther into the store. And then in his peripheral vision, he saw the masked man reaching behind his back.

The gleaming black handle of a pistol was barely visible when Peter threw himself toward the running child, wrapping his larger frame around hers before spinning to pull her out of harm's way. There was a rushing sensation of coldness, then a brilliant flash and a resounding crack before the world exploded around him. Darkness came abruptly and completely.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Kwai Chang Caine released a small sigh of relief as Peter came groggily awake. His son had been unconscious for several minutes, and he was worried that being injured again so soon could prove detrimental to his still healing body.

"Wh-Where am I?" Peter tried to sit up and take in the surroundings. Wincing, he sank back against the sofa's cushions and closed his eyes.

"Do you not remember?" Caine asked, hoping to further gauge his son's condition. He placed a hand on the young man's brow, probing gently, careful to avoid the already clotting gash on his right temple.

"The mall, right?" Peter squinted up at him before closing his eyes again. "I know the smell of cheese pretzels and cherry slushee anywhere."

"Yes." Caine allowed the briefest of smiles to touch his lips as he continued to probe his son's brow, satisfied with his findings. "But the cheese and cherry slushee are perhaps more immediate than you might think."

"Huh?" Peter frowned, uncomprehending. Then his eyes flew open. "The mall," he said more forcefully. "Yeah. It's all coming back now. Armed robbers. There were armed robbers. Did they get away?"

Caine's smile faded. "I am afraid so. Jody said that you hit your head on one of the display cases."

"Right." Peter brushed Caine's hand away and managed to push himself into a sitting position with some difficulty. "I gotta go ge--" Peter broke off, frowning in confusion at the nearby paper cluttered desk, filing cabinet and safe.

"Where am I? And. . . and what is this?" Peter's eyes were drawn from the surroundings as he brushed a hand over the sticky wetness attached to his shirt front. "And, what are you doing here, anyway?"

"This," Caine waved a hand about the room, "is the inner office of Crawford's Jewelers. And that," Caine pointed to his son's red-tinged shirt, "is cherry slushee and cheese sauce. And I," he shrugged, "care for the plants at the herbal shop. I heard the sound of gunfire."

"Bet you were surprised to see me here."

Caine decided it best not to mention the numbing fear that had suffused him when he'd sensed his son's pain and the sudden darkness immediately following the gunshot. "I did not know that you had returned to work," he said instead.

Peter shrugged and avoided his gaze.

Caine sighed inwardly. Peter would not be Peter had he not at least attempted to burrow his way back into the precinct early. "How do you feel?"

Peter's look became a wry grin. "Like I went one on one with a hard immovable object. It's not so much the flying through the air as the sudden. . . stop. . . "

Caine frowned and reached into his bag for something to ease Peter's pain.

"Pop, I saw her. She was here."

"Who was here?" Caine asked as he placed a pinch of the combination of herbs on his son's tongue.

Peter distractedly accepted the herbs. "She was. . . There was a little girl and that's how. . . " Again he touched the front of his shirt, and his eyes focused in the distance as he brought the memories more clearly into mind. "Slushee. Gun went off. Jenine."

Caine blinked, remembering the name of the young woman from Peter's bardo.

"Jenine was here, Father. I've gotta . . . " He tried to move to his feet, but Caine easily restrained him.

"You must rest, Peter."

"Pop. . . I. . . she's here. . . " His voice dropped to a whisper. "I can still. . ."

Caine remembered the intensity of the emotions he had sensed from Peter with regard to the woman during his bardo. He also remembered that he had mentioned her later during his recovery. "She was important to you."

"She was my first true love," Peter said softly. "I saw her and . . . "

Caine waited a few moments. "And you forgot your training?" he observed his son carefully.

"I forgot how to breathe. I gotta go see her. Make sure she's okay."

"I am okay." A female voice spoke from behind them.

Peter turned sharply and stared up at a blonde-haired young woman as if momentarily dazed.

"Hello, Peter," the woman said, stepping farther into the room.

"Hello, Jenine." Peter moved quickly to his feet -- too quickly, and his knees immediately buckled. Caine eased him back down to the seat. Jenine rushed forward to help.

"You should be in the hospital," she said, brushing a hand above the bruise at his right temple. "The paramedics are on the way, but there is a First Aid team in the mall."

"I'm fine," Peter insisted, even as he winced and shied away from her seeking fingers.

"Oh, please." The young woman folded her arms across her chest. "Spare me the macho crap, Peter. You can barely stand up."

Caine watched as Peter's wince changed to a full-fledged grimace. "This is familiar," he mumbled. "What are you doing here, anyway?"

"I'm in charge of the exhibit," Jenine responded. "And the reason this is familiar is that you haven't changed. You're probably the police escort I requested. If you would have bothered to arrive on time, this little robbery might not have taken place."
Peter closed his eyes and buried his face in his hands.

"Would not later be a better time to speak of these things?" Caine asked the young woman pointedly. "My son is unwell and I would like to take him home, now."

"Your son?" Jenine studied Caine in disbelief for a few moments. "Who are you?"

"I am Caine." He bowed his head slightly.

"Jenine, meet my father." Peter looked up at her, then raising a hand as she opened her mouth to speak again, he added, "Long story. Some other time."

Caine stood from his stooped position near the sofa, and helped Peter move more slowly to his feet.

"Shouldn't you wait for the ambulance?" Jenine protested, moving to stand between them and the door.

"I've got my father," Peter told her.

"But. . . " she was still unsatisfied. Caine looked at her more closely and immediately caught a sense of fear, anger and another, less defined, emotion clinging to her chi. She blinked, and frowned slightly.

"We must go," Caine said.

She nodded, and stepped out of the way.