"Yeah, there's a definite resemblance," Kermit said as he examined the two images. "That frizzy darkening thing that he's done with his hair makes him look different. And he's definitely had his nose redone. Do I want to know how you made the connection?"

"Probably not."

"Have you called your new task force pals?"

"Yeah. They're working on a search warrant."

"At 5 in the morning in this city?"

"Guess plucky agency positions have their privileges. Guess what else Denton has been up to?" Peter stood and headed for the door.

"What's that?" Kermit asked, following.

"He issued the traffic citation to Geoff Maxey that got him to the courthouse in time for the bomb."

"The evidence mounts. By the way, I'm driving."

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Terrance Denton adjusted his uniform hat as he looked over his shoulder at the boy who lay bound and gagged in the back seat. It had been ridiculously easy to take him from the safe-house location. He had barely awoke when he administered the drug. And now, he would make sure that the kid would die.

With a smug grin, he pulled out into early morning traffic. Justice would be served, and the genius of his plan would be back on track.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

The house listed as Terrance Denton's residence appeared dark and isolated on the lonely side street. Meticulously cared for lawn and bushes stood out in stark contrast to the other shabby homes the dotted the lane. The empty gravel driveway added to the effect.

"Looks mighty quiet," Peter said as Kermit cruised by to park farther along the road.

"He was scheduled for duty this morning. It's a bit early for him to be gone already."

"There's no one there," Peter said. "The house is empty of life."

Kermit shot him a look. "Guess being a psycho bomber takes up a lot of your free time. Shall we go inside?"

"We don't have the warrant yet."

"Come on, have faith in our federal friends. They'll be here before we know it. Besides, isn't breaking and entering part of the Shaolin thing?"

"Entering," Peter corrected, "Not breaking. But Pop won't teach me that trick."

"That's okay." Kermit displayed his lock-picking tools. "There is more than one way to skin a cat."

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

The 59th precinct was bubbling with more than the usual excitement when Terrance Denton arrived for his shift. Bomb teams from the surrounding area were all assembling in and around the squad room apparently awaiting instructions.

Denton's eyes scanned the gathering in an attempt to locate Agent Maxey or Greig. Neither were in sight.

"They said 6:30," someone complained. "It's after seven. If he's not here in five, we go without them."

"Where've you been?" another voice shot back. "Maxey set out of here like a bat outta hell an hour ago. Something to do with that picture."

Denton leaned toward Detective Jason Forester who was leaning over his computer screen. "What picture is he talking about?"

"One on the bulletin board," Forester gestured with his coffee mug, barely glancing in Denton's direction. "Age progressed image on the bomber."

Denton followed his gesture, then began moving in the direction of the board.

"Oh, Denton, by the way," Forester called to him. "Cap'n wants to see you in his office right away."

Denton looked over his shoulder and nodded distractedly before continuing on toward the board. His breath caught as he focused on the familiar image. He knew exactly where Maxey was headed. With a careful stride he slipped unobtrusively from the squad room. He had a death to oversee.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

The dream startled Caine into wakefulness. Again he had seen his son's death, but this time a yard full of school children were involved. The force of the blast had been so powerful as to have killed and wounded many.

Throwing off the thick blanket that the Ancient had covered him with, he moved to his feet. There was very little time. He had to move quickly.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

"Hey, hey. You okay?"

Peter blinked away the images and looked into Kermit's concerned features.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Running a hand through his hair, he squeezed his eyes tightly shut before opening them. "Just lack of sleep."

"Uh huh."

Peter knew that Kermit did not believe him, but he figured the lie was better than explaining that he had witnessed another of his father's dreams of his death.

"I would arrest the two of you for unlawful entry, but there really isn't time for all the paperwork."

Kermit and Peter turned at the sound of the masculine voice behind them.

"Oh come on, Max. You know why they did it." Agent Greig spoke as she moved farther into the room. "You would have done the same. You guys find anything?"

"Nothing to tell us where this lunatic is planting his next bomb," Kermit replied, turning and leading the way toward the back of the house. "But the back bedroom is a bomb maker's paradise. And I'm sure you'll recognize the psychotic décor."

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Geoff Maxey woke with a groan. His brain was fuzzy and his stomach felt like he'd out drank half-a-dozen frat houses. When he tried to pull his arms forward in an attempt to ease him discomfort, pain tore through his shoulders, drawing a muffled cry from his gagged mouth.

This is not good, he thought as he opened tired eyes. The hazy images that greeted him told that at least he had not been blindfolded as well. There was one bit of good news in the mess in which he found himself. But as his vision began to clear and the images came into focus, he realized that the glowing bundle that sat before him was slowly counting backward. The hazy outline of wires and putty could be nothing else.

His mind screamed as he began to struggle in earnest, ignoring the bonds that pulled at his shoulders and the gag that cut at his mouth. None of it mattered in the face of being blown into tiny pieces.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Caine came to a stop outside of a beige brick building. He could feel the danger that emanated from the structure, knew that it carried death. He recognized the sensation and the building from his dreams. But he did not sense his son nearby. He did, however, feel the presence of another. A small shocked gasp escaped him as he identified it, and then he was running toward the building.

He found Geoff bound and tied in the midst of a large room littered with old building materials. The building had not been long abandoned. The young man stared transfixed at the countdown on a large digital display attached to a bundle of wire and explosives.

Stooping, he grasped the bound young man and hefted him over his shoulder. With quick steps, he made his way back toward the exit. Moving from the dusky building into daylight, he heard the sounds of children laughing and talking. Turning, he caught sight of a sign marking the location of Ashcroft Elementary School. His heart fell. There were so many of them playing in the yard that was separated from the old building by a small copse of new trees. It would not be enough to shield them.

Lowering Geoff to the ground, he murmured words of comfort to the frightened young man as he released his bonds. But his eyes remained on the children that bounded about the schoolyard. There were but several minutes before the bomb would go off. He could not disarm the device and help would not arrive in time. And the young man before him could barely walk as a result of bonds tied too tightly.

"Here." Caine helped the young man to move across the street to a drainage ditch. "You must remain here until I or my son come for you. I must help the children. Do you understand?"

Geoff nodded his head numbly and hunkered down in the indentation.

Caine turned and ran for the school yard. The time remaining had decreased.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Geoff stretched his legs out as much as the ditch would allow in an attempt to relieve the pain in bruised and battered limbs. Just being out in the fresh air seemed to help clear his head somewhat. Now he had to get on his feet and get moving. Caine was going to need help if he was going to get all of those children out of the playground. Time was running out.

Peering over the edge, he was startled at the sight of a uniformed police officer stepping from a vehicle parked in the shadows on the side of the beige building away from the school. The officer looked vaguely familiar. Perhaps he had seen him at the courthouse.

Elated at having found help for Caine, he cried out to get his attention. But his voice, hoarse from yelling for help inside the building, would not reach much above a whisper. Pushing himself up farther out of the ditch, he waved his arms, beckoning the officer toward the drainage ditch.

"What are you doing out here?" The officer asked while he continued to try to tell him about the bomb, gesturing frantically toward the school yard and Caine.

"Well, we'll just have to fix that," the officer said, never turning to look where he was pointing. He simply reached into his holster and produced his gun. Geoff was just beginning to realize that something was terribly wrong when, in a swift motion, the butt of the gun collided with the flesh at his temple.

There was a brilliant jolt of light, and Geoff knew no more.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

"Turn here!" Peter demanded from the passenger seat of the Corvair.

"What? Why? That's not the way to the--"

"My father's there. He's in trouble."

Kermit muttered under his breath and jerked the vehicle sharply to the right onto a side street near Ashcroft Elementary School. He ignored the protesting horns that sounded as he cut off several vehicles in the maneuver.

"Stop!" Peter cried, opening his car door.

Kermit slammed his foot on the brake, bringing the car to a squealing halt. On the whole, it was a good thing Maxey and Greig hadn't made the turn, they would most certainly have rear-ended his precious Corvair. Friend or no friend, there would have been hell to pay if that happened. Peter was out of the door before Kermit could fully inform him of the penalty.

"Damnit Caine!" He muttered under his breath as he threw the car into park, shut off the engine and grabbed up his Desert Eagle. Which Caine he was cursing, he wasn't entirely sure, but both of them were in his line of sight. Best he could tell, Kwai Chang was harassing a field full of kids at recess. Peter had come to a stop at the edge of the playground.

As he started across the street toward the school, the sound of squealing tires caused him to step back toward his car. Maxey's blue rental rocked to a halt inches in front of him.

Any response either he or Maxey would have made was cut off by the sound of Caine's cry.

"Peter! No!"

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Peter ran flat out in an attempt to reach Denton before he reached the door of the old building. He had nearly caught up to him when he heard his father call his name. Denton spun awkwardly, allowing the unconscious young man that had been slung over his shoulder to fall to the ground. Taking a balancing step back, he pointed his unholstered gun toward Geoff's skull. Peter skidded to a halt.

Denton laughed triumphantly, a maniacal gleam in his eyes. "There's no time. You're too late to stop it. Ten seconds and the bomb goes off. He's going to die and you are going to die with him. And dear Agent is going to have to live with knowing that he's the cause of his brother's death, just like he was the cause of my brother's death."

"Denton. No! Move away from the building." Peter identified the sound of Maxey's pleading voice from somewhere behind him. "You don't want to do this."

"Oh hell yes I do!" Denton raised his voice to yell triumphantly. "Seven seconds and they're both dead. Justice will be served!"

"Denton--" Peter raised a hand toward the man, urging him to put down the weapon, hoping to make him see reason. Hoping he was wrong about the time remaining.

"Five seconds!" Denton cried, waving his gun drunkenly as he threw back his head and shouted toward the sky. "And this great big party is over!"

Peter choose that moment to act. With a quick extension of his leg, he kicked the gun from Denton's hand. The deranged officer jerked in surprise and pain, dropping the weapon to the ground. Peter spun and directed another kick at the man and he went down unconscious beside his weapon.

Peter mentally continued the countdown that Denton had started. Three seconds until everything was gone. Three seconds was all that was left to say a lifetime's worth of words. But then he realized that he'd said it all the night before.

Two seconds.

Suddenly memories began to return to him, memories from the previous night's mediation. . .

Ice crystals were in the Ancient's mustache as he encouraged Peter to slow down the hockey game so that he could control it. And then it was happening. He was dressed in the uniform of the Sonics, the puck was hit and sailing toward him at incredible speed. He raised his hand. . .

The scene morphed, and it was the time of the earthquake. He could feel the heat coming off of the resistant metal as he tried to open the driver's side door. He couldn't open it. The family was going to die before his eyes. His father could do this. His father. . . And then he felt it, the transference of power. . .

Another change. The candle at the end of a long dark corridor, growing stronger, ever brighter. The corridor transformed to a cool morning in the forest. The sounds of trainees moving through the wood, attacking and being attacked surrounded him. And then the figure appeared before him. With upraised arms and a controlled displacement of air, he knocked back the masked form. . .

The memories began to fade. All were important parts of his life. They all served him.

One second.

Peace and acceptance flowed over and through him. He closed his eyes and touched his father's mind. He felt the tingling that had come the night before when they had initiated the ti'chi-gun, felt the power building as he had when his father had transferred his Chi so that he could fight Clarence. But this time he was stronger, much stronger, he had strength of his own to contribute.

And then he knew. It was time. Raising his arms as if to ward off the force of the explosion, he felt a powerful burst of energy rushing out from himself. It was warm, radiant and golden. It surrounded him, spreading to encompass both Denton and Geoff. And then, with incredible force, it collided with the rushing blast of debris. It protected him. It protected Denton and Geoff. It drained him of everything he had.

Suddenly he felt the heat of the explosion as it rammed into him, knocking him back as if he was a mere paper doll against a raging inferno. It pushed against him and he was helpless but to allow it to take him where it would.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Caine saw Peter fall. He could feel nothing from his son. Peter's use of their power had drained him, and he could not muster the strength even to calm his scattered nerves. The only thing that gave him the energy to even move was fear for his son's life. And even then, his movements felt painfully slow and his breaths desperately ragged.

Kermit arrived at Peter's side before he did.

Kermit turned as he approached. "He's okay Caine. He's alive. I don't know how the hell he did it, but he's alive."

Caine could have wept with relief. Not having the strength even to examine his son in the Shaolin way, he was forced to resort to the more traditional method of checking for his pulse and watching the gentle rise and fall of Peter's breathing.

As Kermit moved away to help with Denton, Geoff and the rest of the crime scene, Caine held onto Peter's hand, remaining by his side. His son was alive, and for the moment, that was all that mattered.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

"I'll get it," Peter called to his father as he moved stiffly to his feet. Every muscle in his body reminded him vividly that his stunt the morning before was not appreciated. Pulling open the door, he stood back to allow Agents Maxey and Greig entry.

"Good to see you're feeling better," Maxey commented as he stepped into the apartment. "We can't stay, but we couldn't leave without thanking both you and your father for all your help. Thought you might want these also."

Peter felt a grin spread across his face when he saw his car keys dangling in Maxey's hand. He retrieved them and slipped them into the comforting spot in his pocket.

"It's a nice ride," Greig spoke up. "I drove it over. Thought that was the least we could do. Max filled up the tank."

"Thanks." Peter turned as his father approached.

"Your brother is well?" Caine asked of Maxey.

"Yes. He's going to be fine. He's especially happy that since the traffic ticket was bogus, it won't appear on his record."

"What about Denton?" Peter asked.

"There's going to be a psychological evaluation to determine whether he is capable of standing trial. Meantime, we've wrapped up the investigation pending the results.

"We did find his parents, by the way. The father died and the mother re-married a Jonas Denton. She had Terrance's name changed. They didn't seem very surprised when we contacted them about the bombings."

"That's kinda strange."

"Yeah, we agree. Speaking of strange things, the bomb investigation team ended up declaring Denton's final bomb a dud based on the evidence found. . . " Maxey trailed off thoughtfully. "I saw something that I can't explain. Care to enlighten me?"

"Some things are better taken on faith," Peter said with a grin.

"How'd I know you were going to say that?"

Peter's grin broadened. "Instinct?"

Maxey chuckled and extended his hand. "Until we meet again."

"Until then," Peter said, shaking Grieg's hand as well.

He turned to his father as he closed the door behind the two agents. "What did happen out there, Pop? How did I know to do whatever . . . we did?"

"What was it that you told your friend?" Caine asked with a small smile as he turned and headed for the kitchen. "Are not some things better taken on faith?"

"Aw great," Peter grumbled good-naturedly, moving after his father. "This is one of those things I'm going to have to figure out on my own isn't it? I'll probably get the damn lock thing first."

The End

Author's End Note: Special thanks to everyone who reviewed this story and sent private comments. They are very much appreciated! I write because I love writing and I love Fu. But you guys make it all that much more enjoyable. Thanks!