Pt. 15

Peter looked up, startled as his father and the mysterious Michael re-entered the room. "What's happened?" he asked, taking note of his father's worried expression.

Michael, ignoring the young detectives question, walked up to Miriam and handed her a sheet of dirty brown paper. "Just arrived."

She read through the short message quickly. "Is this all?"

"No." Michael admitted, holding out his hand for the wooden box Caine still held. He took it from the older man and handed it to Miriam, his face as impassive as ever. "This was with it."

She opened the box carefully and held it out for the others to see. "I told you he already had his target in hand" she commented to Kermit, who grimaced at the contents of the box.

Peter took a quick look and turned away, sickened. "How can you be so calm about this?" he railed at her.

Miriam closed the box and set it gingerly on the table beside her. "Would it help anything for me to get hysterical? We'd best be on our way if we're going to get to the park."

"He'll be expecting us." Michael pointed out calmly.

"Of course he will. That's the whole point of this, isn't it?" Miriam crumpled the paper she still held in one hand and tossed it expertly in the direction of a wastepaper basket. It skidded off the rim and bounced away into a corner. "Dang! Never could get the handle of that shot. Anyway, sometimes the best way to avoid getting caught in a trap is to walk right into it. Besides, I have a feeling our friend the Doctor won't be the only one coming to this little party. And it's that person I need to see." She smiled coldly at Kermit and motioned him to precede her out the door. "You can take care of one little psycho, can't you Mr. Griffin? As I recall, you didn't have much of a problem in Sierra Leon."

Kermit stopped dead in his tracks and looked back at her, stone faced. "Sierra Leon? Sorry, you've lost me."

"I doubt that," she laughed. "It took me a while but I finally remembered where we'd met before. You and your black-ops buddy Mr. Blasdell were part of a strike force taking out a terrorist camp in a backwater area of Sierra Leon when you came across what you thought was their advance guard. Only problem was, it wasn't. There was a quick and dirty firefight and then the other team retreated. When you made it to the camp, you found the terrorists were all dead. Didn't you ever wonder what had happened?"

"Why do I get the feeling I'm looking at what happened?" Kermit stared down at the young woman in front of him with a coldness Peter had not seen before. "How old were you when you made your first kill?"

"Hypothetically, if I were the killer you think I am, that would be information you might find dangerous to obtain." She moved gracefully past the mercenary then turned back with a smile. "Sixteen." She smiled at Peter's shocked expression and disappeared out the door, Michael following closely behind her.

"Sixteen!" Peter gasped, looking back at his friend.

"I guess she got a taste for the life early." Kermit commented, and then proceeded to follow the others out the door.

Peter looked at his father, disbelief in his eyes. "My God, what kind of monster turns a sixteen year old girl into a killer?"

Caine looked back at his son with sorrow. "There is much darkness in the world, my son. You can only fight so much of it before it overwhelms you. She and her friend Michael were swallowed up by the shadows early in their lives and neither can find the path back to the light. Nor can this man who has challenges you. But they, at least, hold some part of their uncorrupted chi hidden in secret places where the darkness cannot reach. This man," he motioned to the box on the table with a grimace "does not. It is he you must fear, not them."

"You coming?" Kermit's voice rang out from the stairway.

"Yeah, we're coming." Peter called back. He felt his father grip his shoulder and took comfort in the gentleness and strength of his father's touch. Then they both moved forward towards their confrontation with the darkness.

The killer moved quickly along the crowded streets of Chinatown, headed for his car. It had been an easy thing to find a young boy willing to throw a small package over the wall of the Apothecary's home for a fee. Even if Nightbird or the young detective had tried seeing who had delivered the challenge, all they would have seen was a young figure scurrying away. He smiled in anticipation of the coming events, knowing that the Section operative would not leave the young man to attend the rendezvous by himself. He would stay out of sight until he was sure that they and their friends were alone, then would spring the traps he had already prepared, immobilizing Peter Caine and his friends. He smiled at the thought of the suffering it would cause them to know he had taken their friend away and they had been unable to stop him. And the best part of it would be the look on his sponsor's face when he presented him with not only his original target but also a Level 5 operative from Section 1. So intent was the man on his visions of revenge he was oblivious to the car that followed his movements at a discreet distance. The killer jumped in his car and roared off, his silent companion keeping pace not far behind him.

In the car, a dark figure watched the grinning assassin with distaste. "Well, I suppose he had to outlive his usefulness someday. Pity, I was really hoping to introduce him into Section One. It would have made my takeover of the operation so much easier." He tapped on the glass separating him from his driver. "Is the transmitter in his car still coming in clearly?"

"Yes." the driver replied, his voice muffled by the sounds of the electronic equipment that took up part of the front seat. "We should be able to follow him at a distance without his getting suspicious."

"Good. Let's get this over with." The shadowy figure settled back in his seat with a sigh and watched the bustling streets breeze by him, lost in his own thoughts.