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Chapter Six

"The Maze"

After being lead around the countryside, Peter found the next two isolated pay phones and received the additional instructions as he'd been told to expect. The bored detective stomped around the lonely area of the third location in order to keep himself warm against the stubborn late evening chill setting in. As he moved about, he mulled over his early morning encounter with Lo Si.

He was almost to the point of acknowledging of the importance of the work his father did, especially with the Dali Lama, but he couldn't convince himself it was enough to excuse his father's absence. He paced some more as he debated with himself, playing both the victim and devil's advocate in an internal dialogue.

Remembering his last words to Lo Si, Peter cringed at the level of disrespect he had shown the Ancient and to his father. 'Peter Caine has stopped playing the fool as far as his father's concerned. Never again!'

'Yeah, right, you talk big, Peter, but when push comes to shove, you fold every time!'

'Pop's work is important,' Peter admonished his more belligerent side, but he failed to convince his more forgiving side to have stronger convictions regarding his father. Sighing deeply, he circled the phone booth one more time.

Peter was startled when an elderly barrel-chested man silently approached him as he had been consumed in his debating and pacing. He was the first living soul Peter had met during the past few hours, aside from the variety of voices on the telephone directing him to different locations.

The old man obviously had a good portion of Native American genes which was apparent through his high cheek bones and darker coloring. His mostly gray hair was pulled back into a long braid and he didn't look like he cared much for the detective as he held his cane in a poised attack position.

"You Caine?" the old man asked warily.

With the old man still looking like he was prepared to use his cane on Peter if given half a chance, Peter's sarcasm got the better of him. "No, that's my father."

Relenting at the last minute, he sighed and said, "Yeah, I'm Peter. Detective Peter Caine. You're with Celeste Crowfoot and Tommy Hills?"

"Do you see them here?" the old man snapped back, clearly able to respond with

greater sarcasm. There was a fire sparking from his dark expression.

Rolling his eyes, Peter suppressed his rising temper before he grabbed the old man's wavering cane and throttled him with it.

"Look, I'm just a simple cop who's freezing his ass off. I could really use a straight answer here," Peter said in a voice belying the end of his patience.

"Show me you're who you say you are," the old codger demanded. His eyes narrowed as he awaited Peter's response.

Shaking his head slightly, Peter pulled off one glove, then reached into an inner pocket of his jacket and pulled out his ID. Flipping it open, Peter gave the old man an icy stare which would normally freeze the souls of most men.

Apparently, the old man was immune to withering stares as he donned his reading glasses and held his flashlight close to the official documentation, looking back and forth between it and Peter, giving both closer scrutiny than Peter had tolerance for. Finally, the old coot handed the badge back to Peter.

He spat on the ground, apparently indicating that he'd made his decision and Peter had passed inspection.

"So, what's your name?" Peter asked as he put his ID away.

The wizened old fellow, whose eyes were enlarged by the thick lenses of his eyeglasses, reminding Peter of Mr. Magoo, said with disgust, "Mystery man."

Pursing his lips together, Peter muttered, "Cute."

"It's all the likes of you get right now."

Peter's temper flared by the man's insulting demeanor. He'd been made to suffer long enough and was preparing to shout when the old man spoke in a quiet tone, designed to diffuse Peter's anger before it had a chance to really get going.

"Well, I'm here to take you to Celeste and Tommy as long as you weren't followed."

He gestured to Peter's tan Crown Victoria. "Have you checked your car for tracking devices?"

Peter gaped at the man's comment. After a moment, he closed his mouth.

"Well, have you or not?" the mystery man demanded.

"No, but why-"

"Because these people are wily enough to try something like that."

"But I've been with my car the whole time...except when I had some lunch."

The Mr. Magoo lookalike grimaced. "Better get to it," he ordered as he gestured toward the vehicle with his cane.

Peter was about to argue with him when he remembered the two men from the diner. The impressions from that meeting tempered Peter's response. "Okay, it's worth a look."

They walked over to the car and the old man handed Peter his flashlight. Peter pulled off a glove and began to feel above the rear passenger wheel for planted tracking devices. He continued forward when he didn't find anything there. And the mystery man was right on his heels, making sure Peter did the job correctly.

It was clear until Peter got to the rear bumper and his fingers glided across a compact object that shouldn't have been there. Swallowing hard, he pulled the device away from the bumper, holding it up to examine it more closely with the flashlight.

"Damn," the old man said.

Peter was at a loss for words as he stood. The GPS tracker was pretty high-tech. Peter had never seen one that small before. He cursed under his breath as the old man took the tracking device and threw it into the brush and took back his flashlight.

Without waiting for a response from Peter, the old man turned, and was now using his cane for its intended purpose. He began a limping stride towards a stand of trees. Peter followed him until he saw a forty year-old Ford truck hidden behind the brush and trees

'He must have been there the whole time I was standing around this phone booth,' Peter decided as he fumed.

"Hold up there, sonny," the old man snapped after realizing Peter was following him. "We've got to get moving before we have unwanted visitors. I'm going take you on a wild ride through the mountain roads in hope of losing these fellows."

"Look, I'm sorry I didn't think to check for tracking devices earlier," Peter said.

The old man stopped and stared at Peter for a moment, and it seemed his temper cooled a bit. "You've got to be wily when dealing with this bunch."

"You sound like you know a lot about them," Peter replied as he stepped closer.

The old man shook his head. "Never laid eyes on them, but I know their kind. They are trouble pure and simple," he said quietly.

He looked directly at Peter. "I've got a thermos of hot coffee and a sandwich for you in the truck that ought to help tide you over until we actually head to where Celeste and Tommy are hiding. There's a walkie-talkie in the basket I'm gonna give you. That way we can alert each other to possible trouble."

Peter nodded. "I think you are right about the kind of men we are dealing with."

The old man started to say something, but instead resumed his trek to his truck. Peter followed him. As he handed Peter the basket, he said, "We've already lost two good souls to that drugged out fool. I'm committed to seeing that we don't lose two more. They're special, you hear me? Special. That's why we are gonna be on the road for a while."

Still talking as he got into his truck, he continued, "I'm not letting them out of my sight until I see that you've got the same level of commitment to get them back to the city safe and sound."

He glanced back to Peter and the young detective nodded in agreement.

"Okay, Detective Caine, it's time to this show on the road."

Peter turned toward his car. Before he got to it, he heard the roar of a powerful engine apparently hidden under the shoddy exterior of 'mystery man's' truck. Peter didn't waste any time getting into his vehicle. He turned the key in the ignition and revved the engine.

The truck moved past him and then waited a moment as Peter pulled in behind him, thinking he was about to begin 'Mr. Toad's Wild Ride'. The truck took off and Peter followed closely while his mood shifted from sarcastic thoughts to chiding himself for not taking this case more seriously.

He'd have to call Paul once they were safely at their destination. The simple witness transport assignment had just moved up to being a more dangerous job than either Peter or Paul had imagined.

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