Prodigal Son
Please see the disclaimer on the Synopsis page.
Both men circled around each other not wanting to make the first move. It was a sizing up, each not knowing the strength of the other. Then Masterson struck, thinking that he had an opening, but Peter countered. Fists met fists, open hand to open hand, parrying, and blocking. Kicks were returned with someone grabbing a leg and flipping the other to the ground, and that person scrambling to their feet. It was proving to be very difficult for either man to get the upper hand.
As Peter circled to the left, keeping his eyes peeled on Masterson's hands and face, Masterson suddenly kicked out and connected with Peter's jaw causing his head to snap back, something that Peter did not expect. It was a mistake that he would not allow to happen again. The only reason it did was because both men were beginning to tire. They had been at it for over an hour.
The two men continued fighting as the sun started to set, neither one giving any quarter, each growing breathless from the fighting, both deciding to take a brief breather before beginning again.
"I remember . . . this was . . . a lot easier," Peter said between breaths.
"I've been . . . working out, and I have . . . you to thank for that," Masterson responded in kind.
"Me? I can remember . . . a sniveling coward who used bombs and guns to intimidate."
"Well nobody's perfect."
"This has to end, Masterson. You may as well just give up. You know eventually I'll beat you."
"I agree, this should end. We seem to be too evenly matched. Who's going to make the first move?"
"You know, in another time or place, I could have called you a friend," Peter mused.
"But you never did. You just had to bring that up. I blamed you for everything that went wrong in my life. It is time that we end this."
As Masterson pulled out a large knife to draw Peter's attention, another weapon was drawn.
"You agreed there would be no cheating."
"I lied."
Masterson slashed outward, forcing Peter to back away. For several moments, they continued in this dance, neither one noticing what else was going on around them, Masterson lashing out with his knife, and Peter trying to avoid getting cut, until finally Masterson raised the knife one more time.
"No!"
Peter was suddenly shoved aside just as a report from a gun was heard throughout the site.
"Grandfather!"
"Matthew!" Kermit exclaimed at the same time, then quickly drew his Desert Eagle and fired in the direction of the shot.
A man toppled from an upper story window of the ruined building, falling to the ground without a sound.
Peter kicked out and this time knocked the knife from Masterson's hand. It flew across the site and came to rest in some rubble. Peter continued to kick out, battering Masterson, not giving him a chance to fight back. His anger swelled until his final double kick caused Masterson to fall back into the very same pile of rubble. Peter stepped back, breathless, watching Masterson struggling to rise.
Masterson took a few steps, "Looks like you won after all." Then he fell forward. The knife that had been intended for Peter was deeply imbedded in his back.
Kermit rushed forward to check for a pulse. "He's dead."
For just a brief moment, Peter stared down at Masterson's body then remembered his grandfather. He rushed to his grandfather's side only to see a very large stain spreading across his left side.
"No," Peter said, his throat constricting, as tears welled in his eyes.
"Is he dead?" Matthew questioned, his voice coming out gravelly and weak, his breathing labored.
Peter nodded his answer, his voice failing him.
"Good," Matthew turned his head to face his grandson, then reached up to touch his face. "Do not grieve. I have lived far longer than most. You did what you needed to do."
"But I disgraced myself," Peter said, deep shame filling his being. "I'm a priest. I . . ."
"You have disgraced no one. Masterson chose to die."
"I do not understand," Peter said, his eyes narrowing.
"Masterson wanted to die, but he also wanted you to die with him. His plan was to have you killed by the man hidden in the shadows, then he would take his own life with that very same knife."
Matthew is overtaken by a fit of coughing.
"Father, I am here."
Peter looked up to see his father kneeling beside Matthew. He had pulled a small pouch from his bag and was emptying some herbs in his hands.
"I will attempt to stop the bleeding. Peter, remove the strip of cloth from my pouch,"
Peter did as his father instructed. "Pop, we've got to get him to a hospital."
"I've all ready alerted 911," Kermit said as he placed his cell phone back into his pocket.
"There's going to be a lot of explaining to do here." Peter indicated toward the two dead men lying in the rubble.
"Don't worry. I said I'd back you up and I will."
Peter and Kermit returned their attention back to Matthew Caine as he spoke to his son.
"My son," Matthew reached up to caress his son's face. "Please forgive me for not trying to find you sooner."
"There is nothing to forgive, father. You have saved the life of my son. For that, I am eternally grateful."
Another fit of coughing overtook the stricken elderly Shaolin, and blood dripped from Matthew's mouth.
"We've got to get you to a hospital," Peter repeated.
"It is too late, my grandson. The bullet has done its work. I love you both," Matthew said calmly.
"No, I will not allow it," Kwai Chang stated and drawing in a deep sigh, he placed his right hand on Matthew's wound while his left rested on his father's forehead.
Peter followed suit with his own hands. As he did so, Matthew’s body went limp.
"Grandfather!" Peter cried, but there was no response.
"Do not be concerned. He has only passed out. We must continue to give him our chi in order so he may have the strength to recover."
Peter nodded his head and continued as his father instructed while Kermit waited for the ambulance to arrive.
As the two younger Shaolin continued their ministrations, Kermit walked over to where the gunman had fallen. He turned the man over to get a better look at him and his face went pale. He knew the man, but at the same time he wasn't sure from where. He was certain that he and the man had a run in a few years ago. He was also very certain that this very same man had also tried to kill Kwai Chang Caine, but he didn't know why. He would have to see if he could find the case, and review it. Peter was right, they were going to have a lot of explaining to do.
Continues with Part 25
Alisa Joaquin Copyright@2006.
This story cannot be reprinted or sold in any other form without strict permission from
the author. It is being distributed here solely for your enjoyment.
Synopsis / Previous Part / Next Part
Back to Temple Tales / Contact
Alisa