Miller received the news and smiled sadistically. He could not believe how easy it was to get Peter Caine to play into his hands. By now he should have discovered the body at the morgue and its clue to his "secret place." The carving on the tree had been a work of genius. It was just enough to throw him off the scent, but not by much, provided that Caine found the clue at all. There was no doubt that he eventually would. Knowing Caine as he thoguht he did, he would even be wondering how "M" knew of the place. The thought sent a chill of exhilaration through Miller and he wished he could see the look on the Detective's face as he tried to figure that one out.

"Oh, Peter. It's not over yet. You may have foiled me the last time, but this time, you cannot win this game." Miller handed a video tape to one of his men that he had just finished editing. "Peterson, make sure he finds this. I don't care how long it takes. Even if you have to wait a day for the right opportunity. The longer the wait, the longer Peter Caine suffers. I'm going to check on our "visitor."

Miller rose and moved down the hall to a room that contained only a mat on the floor and a prone figure. His prisoner stared back at him, his eyes glassy, but still aware of his presence. He could see that the prisoner had developed a fever, the first sign that the drug that he had been given over the past several hours had worked its way into his bloodstream and his body was trying to throw off its affects. Miller pulled out a small bottle and a syringe from his coat pocket. He filled the syringe, knelt down beside the stricken man, lifted up his right arm, and emptied the syringe into his system.

"If you haven't figured it out by now, this drug was developed specifically to counteract the powers of a Shaolin. How I got hold of it is my secret. Not only that, but it's highly addictive. So you see, I'm not only destroying you, I'm destroying your reputation, especially in the eyes of your son. Even if he does find you, he'll find a man that overdosed. Of course, by then it will be too late. Where he'll find you won't matter. You'll be dead either way. But not before I make it more interesting for your son. You see, this game is going to take on another player, and Peter's going to have to choose which player is more important to him. Pretty soon you'll have a roommate, at least for a little while. Besides, no one should be allowed to have two fathers. You should have stayed dead, Caine. Peter was Blaisdell's son. You had no right to come back into his life and take him back. Since you came back, I saw the way he looked at you and even at Blaisdell. No one should have that much love. No one really cares about each other that much anyway. We'll just see how much your son really cares for you. Sweet dreams, Caine."

Kwai Chang Caine watched the man leave through the drug induced haze of his mind. He blinked several times, trying to focus, but it was no use. He tried to reach out to Peter but all he sensed was a swirling fog that surrounded his mind. If only he could slip into a healing meditation to try to cleanse his body of what had been done to him, but in truth, his abductor had been right about the drug. He could feel its malevolent fingers clutching at his mind and his body was beginning to want more of what had been given to him. He had to resist, but he did not know if he had the strength.

Caine struggled to a sitting position and automatically folded his legs in their customary lotus position. The effort left him feeling ragged and he leaned up against the wall for support. His shirt was damp with his sweat. He could not let this continue. He was a Shambhala Master. No one could touch him or corrupt him. Caine forced the air from his lungs and closed his eyes and began the process of meditation. He had to fight it, now, before it got too strong. It was the only way he was going to survive and have any hope of reaching his son.

End of Part 5 To be continued . . . .