The Heart of a Man: 12

"Pop, are you sure you're okay?" Peter asked, taking in his father's slack features. He didn't like the way the link seemed to be draining him.

"Because of the instability of my link with the child, I must expose my chi more directly to hers. It is," Caine sighed heavily, "difficult. We must continue."

Peter placed a hand on his father's arm as they crept through a rusted loading dock at the back of an old warehouse. Darkness enveloped them, obscuring their view. He followed as his father tread silently across a cavernous room strewn with discarded boxes and old pallets. At the far side of the room, his father stopped before a door that Peter was sure he would never have found without the aid of a flashlight.

Caine took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Rubbing his hands slowly together, he placed one of them over the doorknob. It opened easily.

Peter shook his head, mystified. He wondered if his father would ever teach him that trick. The door groaned open, attracting the attention of the man standing on the other side of it. Caine took the man down with a pinch to his neck before he ever had a chance to retrieve the walkie-talkie from his belt.

Peter helped his father ease the man quietly to the floor, and then they both continued through the doorway and into a dimly lit corridor. The corridor continued several feet beyond the door and then branched to the left and to the right.

"This way," Caine gestured. Peter followed, stepping into another long, equally dim, corridor. He could hear the sound of muffled voices echoing in the distance. The voices were getting nearer.

"I think we're about to have company, Pop," he whispered.

"She is there." Caine pointed to the door at the end of the long hall.

"Great," Peter murmured. The voices seemed to be coming from a cross-corridor that was situated between where he and his father were and the door where Johanna was being held. It sounded as if the owners of the voices would be at the cross-corridor any second.

"We need a distraction."

"I think I can manage that," Peter responded with a grin.

"I was never in doubt," Caine said, pressing his back against the wall just as three men dressed in blacked appeared ahead of them in the corridor.

Peter was sure that he imagined it, but it seemed for a moment as if his father had faded from view. There was no time to ponder it, as the three men froze in mid-sentence and stared at their surprise guest.

"Donations for the policemen's benevolent society?" Peter asked as he displayed his badge.

The three men reached for their guns.

"I'll take that as a no." Peter threw himself at the men, his shoulder connecting with the center man's torso and sending them both to the floor. Rolling to his feet, he kicked the gun from the second man and followed up with a spin and a kick that knocked the second man into the third man. By then, center man was regaining his feet. Peter turned and managed to block a punch before landing one of his own which sent center man back to the floor with a bloodied nose.

Second or third guy, Peter wasn't sure which, managed to land a lucky punch that spun him into the wall. Peter felt rough hands grab him by the shoulders and pull him away from the wall before turning him to receive another blow to the gut from third guy. Peter doubled over, feeling the air whoosh from his lungs just as he heard the sound of running footsteps.

Bloody nose guy appeared and grabbing Peter's hair leaned over to whisper what Peter was sure was going to be something cold and ugly. He didn't give the man a chance to speak. Feinting slightly back, he broke second guy's hold then drew back and elbowed bloody nose in the chest and kicked third guy with a flatfooted blow against his chest. Both men went down and out.

Second guy went for his gun just as Peter spun. The gun never cleared the man's holster. Peter landed two kicks that sent the man to the floor beside his companions.

Knowing that the owners of the approaching footsteps would be appearing at any moment, Peter turned toward the door where his father had indicated Johanna was being held and made a run for it.

As he burst into the room, he saw that his father was holding the sleeping child, and had already found a way out for them. "This way." He gestured toward an adjacent door that led into a darkened area.

Peter shot him a crooked grin, wiping at the cut on his lip. "Missions accomplished," he said, as he followed his father through the door. After they entered the darkened area beyond, Caine turned back and placed a finger against the door's lock.

"I am ready," Caine announced. "They cannot follow this way."

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

The heart that is pure, though in heat of despair,

Finds the light in the darkness, finds the power to care

The heart of a man hopes. . .

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Peter squinted as he and his father stepped out into the bright light of the sun. Shielding his eyes, he took in their surroundings. "We're clear on the other side of the building," he said with distaste. "We're going to have to walk all the way around the damn thing. Are they following?"

"No," Caine answered.

"I guess that's something," Peter said, watching as his father brushed a hand across the little girl's forehead. "She going to be okay?"

"She will," Caine replied, continuing to gaze down at the sleeping face as they walked. "I have done all that I can. It will take time before the remainder of the sedatives work themselves out of her system."

"What about you?" Peter asked, eyeing his father cautiously.

Caine smiled at him. "I am all right, my son."

Peter clasped his father's shoulder and returned the smile. The smile faded slightly. "Jenine's been alone a long time, now. What say we pick up the pace a little and reunite sister and sister?"

"Peter, she is the child's mother," Caine corrected.

"Pop, how can you say that? She lied to everybody so she could get the money. That doesn't make her anyone's mother, that just makes her greedy. Didn't you tell me that lies and greed bring disharmony to the soul?"

"Yes, I did. But, did I not also tell you that love is the music of all times? As with an instrument that is brought into tune, so too can unconditional love have the power to bring the soul that is out of harmony to peace. And none gives love more unconditionally than a child."

Peter frowned and shook his head. "Are you saying that because of Johanna, Jenine's made some kind of change of heart? I don't buy it. She's still telling lies and trying to cover them. I can't believe that you're on her side."

"Peter, I know of your pain where this woman is concerned. I know of her unfairness to you. She stands at a crossroads. The path of light stands before her, as does the path of darkness. When an animal is cornered, it will fight. She is cornered. As such, the clinging of the past will not allow her to go forward. You must let go, so that she may let go."

"So I'm holding her back?" Peter's look plainly showed his disbelief. He swallowed past the lump in his throat. "I can't believe you, Pop. Regardless, none of this makes her this child's mother."

"Being a parent is as much a function as a biological condition," Caine said with a sigh.

"You're not making sense."

Caine stopped walking and rearranged Johanna so that her head rested over his shoulder. "Does not Paul Blaisdell function as your father?" He placed a hand on Peter's chest. "Do you not both feel it to be so in your hearts? Did not his unconditional love soothe the disharmony of your spirit when I could not?"

Peter blinked as he suddenly understood what his father was trying to tell him.

"Jenine functions as the child's mother. They both feel it in their hearts. The child's unconditional love has come a long way in healing her spirit. And now, my son, your unconditional forgiveness can assist her in continuing the journey."

Peter stood silent for long moments, staring into his father's eyes. "So I still have to let go." He whispered the words, acknowledging the truth in them. "I'm the one who is holding her back."

"Can you do this thing?"

Peter blinked and nodded. "I can do this thing, father. I can forgive her."

Caine's face spread into a smile and he ran a hand along Peter's cheek. "I was never in any doubt."

Peter chuckled, and then sighing, turned back and continued on around the warehouse. When they neared the final corner, he heard a muffled scream. The cold sensation of fear gripped him as he ran toward the edge of the building, drawing his weapon as he went.

A bullet winged by just as he poked his head around the corner, sending him sprawling back against his father. He hadn't gotten much of a look, but what he had seen in that brief instant filled his heart with dread. Three men in black, bearing automatic weapons. One of them held Jenine. And she wasn't moving.

Moving back toward the side of the building, he looked desperately around for cover. An old rusted dumpster twenty feet away seemed his best option. He looked back at his father who held the child and waited.

Deciding that there was no other choice, he took three steps and he dove. Just as he landed hard on his right shoulder behind the dumpster, he heard the sound of tires squealing against pavement. The men were gone. So was Jenine.

Pushing himself angrily from behind the dumpster, he ran for the Stealth. Six spark plugs were neatly laid out on the hood of his car. "Damnit! I knew our escape was too easy!" They wouldn't be going any place until the spark plugs were reinstalled. Shoving his gun into its holster, he went furiously to work. He was still working five minutes later when Paul Blaisdell arrived.