Downward Dog in Miami

by Larry David Allman

  “Are you there?” he asked her.

  “Yes, we’re at Mom’s,” she said. “I have the boys, and I brought the box… What’s going on, Ray?” she asked him, starting to choke up.

  “I’m in some trouble. I’ll be there soon. Don’t worry, I’ll get it handled. Stay there,” he said and clicked off.

  Directly after that call, he went to the safety box area in the bank, got access to his personal safety box, removed the contents and placed them in a large briefcase, and went back to his office. He took some personal items from his desk and the shelves, as well as the pack of ten thousand dollars in cash which the imposter had given to him, and placed them in the now-bulging briefcase. At closing time, he left the office with the rest of the staff, trying to appear as if everything were normal—other than the theft of over thirteen million dollars—went to his car in the parking lot at his reserved space, got in, and drove off the lot. He was pretty sure he would not be returning to work at this bank.

  * * *

  I woke up around six, according to the red digital numbers on the clock radio sitting on my night table next to the Glock. Something did not feel right. I took a few deep breaths to send energy to my brain and continued to be aware of my surroundings. Nothing moved around us in the room. But my gut was telling me something else, a different message… It wasn’t clear. I got up slowly and stood motionless next to the bed. I heard a buzzing sound, very faint. I tried to sense every area in the bedroom for anything not normal, any sign of danger. Nothing jumped out.

  I walked over to the curtains covering the sliding glass doors leading to the bedroom balcony. More buzzing. I slid one of the curtains aside to look out. Maybe an animal had come onto the balcony. My eye caught some movement… not on the balcony. In the air! Directly at eye level.

  It was a drone! It levitated six feet from the balcony. Hovering. Watching. I dropped down to the floor. Some of those things had weapons!

  We were under attack. Lauren was exposed on the bed. The drone had a direct angle through the glass doors. I jumped into action.

  20

  I crouched down against the wall to the side of the sliding glass doors. The curtains were closed. I started to panic. My breath stopped for a few seconds, and my mind filled with a paralyzing fear. What if that drone had a weapon, a gun or some other thing that could shoot bullets? It had a clear shot at Lauren.

  I took action like I had been taught. I started breathing heavy, deep breaths to unfreeze my brain. After ten or so, I gained back some control of myself. I walked to the bedroom door, stopped, and looked at Lauren. She was still in a deep sleep, and the bedroom curtains were closed; at least the drone could not see directly into the bedroom. I made a tactical decision. I opened the door, slipped through, and closed it silently.

  The curtains to the main balcony were open. The drone was positioned at the bedroom balcony, so it could not see me. I remembered the motion sensor device sitting on the coffee table. I crouched down, duckwalked to it, and turned it off. From the coffee table, I slipped over to the glass doors, took the curtain drawstrings, and slowly closed the curtains. I heard the drone move over to this balcony. I waited a minute for the bullets I feared… Nothing.

  I got up and rushed to my workspace, turned off the other motion sensor, and grabbed my phones. I opened the sat phone: three calls from James and one from Linda. I opened the regular cell and saw the same from James and Linda, plus one from Olivia and one from an unknown number. I tapped in Lenny, who answered on the second ring.

  “Hey man, I’ve got a drone outside my window,” I said as quietly as I could, thinking of Lauren.

  “Open your door; I’ll be right over,” he said.

  I unlocked the door and stood by it. Two minutes after the call, I heard his knock and opened it. He was wearing a 49ers T-shirt and gym pants and was carrying a metal box the size of a football.

  “Is Lauren okay?” he asked.

  “Yes, she’s asleep,” I said.

  “The drone is still there?” he asked.

  “You can hear it. It’s hovering outside that balcony. Can that thing shoot us?” I asked.

  “I doubt it. That would be rare for a civilian model. Probably a high-end camera on it though. I can handle this,” he said, moving toward the balcony. I followed, feeling better about not getting killed in my hotel room by an evil-looking drone hovering just beyond our balcony.

  “You’re going to shoot it down?” I asked like a true amateur.

  “Kind of. I can disable it. I have a jamming device here,” he said as he got down low to the side of the curtains, pulled them back a little, and caught sight of the hovering drone.

  “Okay, no problem,” he said. “That’s a really high-end drone, probably several thousand dollars, and I can see the camera unit. It’s big, which means it’s also pricey. These are not amateurs.”

  “Jeez,” I said, thinking about Lev.

  “Here’s what we do. Get some clothes on, go downstairs, and get directly under us. I’m going to jam its signal. Without a connection to its control source, it will automatically land in place. It will not go back to its takeoff point as long as I keep jamming its signal. Go, go quick while it’s still there. And take your phone.”

  I slipped into the bedroom, saw that Lauren was still sleeping nicely, got on some jeans and a T-shirt and shoes, and walked out of the bedroom as quietly as possible. I left the suite, ran down the hall to the elevators, and went down to the lobby, which was empty except for two employees at reception. I walked out and scanned the area for anything that looked dangerous. Nothing was visible, unless I looked up at the drone. I ran alongside the building to a spot directly under my suite and tapped in Lenny. “In place,” I said.

  “Okay, get ready. Should fall down in one to three minutes. Here goes. When it comes down, pick it up. If it breaks, get all the parts. And watch yourself. Someone is out there directing this thing.”

  Great, I had no weapon.

  I stood against the wall, facing outward and scanning for any threats. After two minutes, the buzzing got louder, and sure enough, the drone landed softly in front of me, and its propellers stopped. It was a pretty big piece of equipment, about three feet square. I picked it up and ran back to the hotel entrance carrying it. It was heavy, maybe fifty pounds, with six propellers and a large camera attached to its underside. It was black, and white, hand-painted letters were stenciled on it, Truth From Above. Was this some kind of religious attack?

  When I entered the room carrying the drone, I saw Lenny in the kitchen. Lauren was up and seated at the kitchen counter bar in a fluffy hotel robe, holding an ice pack against her face. It was still a little puffy with some redness from the giant’s smacking her yesterday. I had only been gone for maybe ten minutes.

  “You went shopping this morning,” Lauren said, smiling and in apparent good spirits even with the ice pack. I smiled at her and nodded. I had been worried about her safety just a few minutes ago, and now this was a joking matter?

  Lenny adjusted the coffee maker and walked out to take the drone from me. “Hey man, this is as high end as it gets. These babies go for at least ten thousand,” he said, placing the drone on the coffee table. “Get James on the phone,” he said to me as he inspected it. I saw him make some adjustments to it with his hands, flipping some switches, and then he disconnected the battery. “We don’t want them looking into our suite, do we?” He opened up a lid and searched inside. “Got it,” he said as James came on the line.

  I put it on speaker.

  “Yo James, Lenny here. We got work. You at the lab?” he asked.

  “Yes, I slept here. You know it’s the middle of the night,” he said.

  “Whatever. We got work, young fellow, get it up.”

  “Okay… Okay… It’s up… What’s up?” James said.

  “We got a drone. We caught it. I’m going to give you
the FAA registration number. We need for you to track this to the owner, find out who registered this thing. Go all the way, as far as you can. There’s a wireless control unit out there; we need that info too,” he said as he read off a long Federal Aviation Administration number. “Once you have that, you need to geolocate that thing, the control unit. It’s probably through one of the majors, AT&T, Verizon, one of those. Do it now! My guess is that they’re close by, sitting in a car.”

  “On it,” James said, then paused. “Wait! Derek, where’ve you been, man? Those beacon phones are active. I called you a few hours ago.” That meant Lev and his criminal buddies. First a drone, now Lev. It wasn’t even seven in the morning yet.

  “Do this first,” Lenny shouted.

  James paused, then said, “Okay, on it,” and clicked off like a true hunter.

  “Coffee, anybody?” Lauren said as she placed the ice pack on the counter and went into the kitchen. Her face was lightly pink from the ice, but the puffiness had receded. My heart fluttered again, seeing the remains of this injury and knowing how she had received it.

  * * *

  We decided to go down and have breakfast at the hotel’s world-class buffet while we waited for information from James about who was responsible for the drone attack. Lauren’s face had returned to normal coloring, the puffiness was gone, and a few dabs of makeup had her looking beautiful. What injury?

  Lenny and Lauren wasted no time loading up their plates and were enjoying their food while I was working on a luscious protein shake with about a thousand different fresh fruits. It was a pleasant and much-needed break from the earlier stress caused by the drone. Our conversation was light.

  I was just about to ask Lenny about the good news he had mentioned yesterday when we were interrupted by one of the waiters. “Mr. Randall, you have guests at the front desk,” she said.

  My heart stopped for a second. Lev? His men? No, Lev would not come straight at us like this and announce himself. Agent Ross? Something else? Lenny and I looked at each other; Lauren looked to both of us while keeping pace with her breakfast.

  “Could you bring them in here, please?” Lenny asked. Good to have a strong partner.

  The waiter appeared with two men. One was about five-foot-three, dressed in shabby pants and a shirt that had never been pressed, with a beard and ratty hair, definitely in his fifties. The other was taller, younger, wearing jeans, and clean-shaven, probably still in college. They approached our table. We remained seated.

  “What’s up?” Lenny said.

  “We want our drone back,” the short one said.

  “What drone is that?” Lenny responded.

  “You know which one.” The shorter one was acting like the boss in this duo.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Lenny said, wiping his mouth with his napkin, obviously preparing for something.

  “We can call the police. You stole our property. That’s a felony in this state,” the shorter one persisted.

  That did it. Lenny stood up. I watched Lenny bring force to the situation, starting with his massive six-foot-six size. He moved next to the shorter guy.

  “Who are you?” he said, getting closer to Shorty.

  “We’re press,” he said, backing up a little.

  “Who do you work for?”

  “I’m not required to tell you that,” he said, backing up a little more.

  “Do you want to leave here with your face intact?” Lenny said, closing the distance.

  “I can call the police,” he said, pulling out his cell phone.

  It was a stupid thing to say, and a stupid move. Lenny snatched his cell phone out of his hand like a hawk grabbing a fish for dinner and got right next to him, daring Shorty to take some action. Everybody in the restaurant was watching, and several were taking cell phone videos. There would be no lying about this confrontation; there was too much evidence of what had actually transpired.

  Lenny handed the cell phone to me. I opened it and took out the SIM card, snapped it shut, and handed it back to Lenny.

  “Go ahead, tough guy, call the police,” Lenny said, handing the inert phone back to Shorty and smiling to the various people taking cell phone videos. Shorty was thinking about his next move.

  My sat phone chimed. It was James. I accepted. “What do you have?” I answered.

  “Got it. Plus more. Where are you?” he asked.

  “We’re in the dining room having breakfast.”

  Lenny stopped, as did our two press visitors.

  “One of the phones went active a few minutes ago. And it’s about a hundred yards from you. It’s off now,” James said.

  “Shit,” I said. That was probably Lev. My mind started to expand. James cut back in.

  “I got the drone stuff too. It’s registered to the Miami Tattler Poste, some slimeball rag down there. The control cell was parked right next to the Lev phone. The control connection ended about twenty minutes ago. You think that’s a coincidence?”

  “Really,” I said. I looked up to Lenny and said, “Miami Tattler Poste,” nodding toward Shorty and his intern. “I’ll get back to you in a few minutes,” I said and was ready to tap off when James said, “there’s something new on that general.”

  “Stay there; I’ll get back to you within the hour,” I said and clicked off. I used my regular phone to take a few photos of Shorty and his intern and said, “You’re working with Siroco?”

  Shorty’s eyes glazed a bit, and his face projected some discomfort, almost a visual admission.

  “I don’t have to answer that,” he finally blurted out. “We want our drone back, and give me that SIM card.”

  “We don’t know anything about your drone,” Lenny said, starting to move the two press guys out of the restaurant with his body, his arms extended.

  “We’ll let you know when you can have your SIM card back,” I said. “Stay in touch.”

  Lenny herded them out of the restaurant; neither resisted. When he walked back in, several people who had seen the episode started clapping. Lauren and I clapped for Lenny too. He sat back down, placed his napkin on his lap, and said, “Pass the coffee, please.” Lauren poured him a new cup from the chrome coffee pot.

  “Is this normal for you guys?” she asked.

  Lenny and I both smiled. It was anything but normal for me. Just then, my cell chimed, and I accepted Agent Ross.

  “Mr. Randall, Agent Howard Ross here,” he said.

  “Yes, I could see that. What’s up, Agent Ross?”

  “I’m up in Palm Beach. We’re arraigning Santo Garcia and one of his crew. The US Attorney may need you to testify. Will you be available this morning?” he said.

  “There’s no way I can get up there today,” I responded.

  “No, no… You would testify by video.”

  “Sure,” I said, catching myself before I said something else foolish. That was the last thing I wanted to do, to get in the middle of a court case in a federal court.

  He cut back in. “Holy shit,” he said.

  “What?” I asked, surprised at his non-FBI speak.

  “Earl Blackstone just walked in.”

  “Who’s that?”

  “He’s trouble. Whatever. Mr. Randall, I also need to know your relationship to a Mr. Daryl Chapman. Does he work with you?”

  “I have no idea who that is,” I said and clicked off. My chest tightened. Where was this case going now?

  “Let’s turn our phones off,” I suggested to Lenny. He nodded, and we both set them to vibrate and took them off the table.

  Lauren did not have a phone with her. She looked at me, then Lenny. “Have you tried the eggs Benedict? I’m going to have one more. Can I get you something?” she said to Lenny, rising up and touching his shoulder in a tender way.

  I was flooded with thoughts of how special s
he was and of how the tenderness was so natural for her. Maybe too special for me? Stop it… None of those unworthiness thoughts for me!

  * * *

  We finished our breakfast in a more peaceful way after Shorty and his intern were ushered out by Lenny. Just as we were wrapping up, Lenny said, “I have good news.” Finally. “Julia is pregnant.”

  Wow, I thought, that is good news, and quite a big deal. Julia was his lady friend; they’d been together for more than a year. She was an attorney in the San Francisco District Attorney’s Office. She was a beauty, and whip-smart, and fun… just like Lauren. Lenny had told her that he would marry her if and when she got pregnant. That had taken all of two months. Smart women know how to get results.

  “Hey man,” I said, jumping up and rushing him for a big bro hug. I knew he had said that to her—and now this. “That is such good news,” I said as we stood and embraced like the college athletes we’d briefly been. “I am happy for you.”

  “Thanks, man, but you know I’ve got to get back there. I thought I’d leave tomorrow,” he said, which took my giddiness down a few notches.

  Lauren was watching the boys play, taking it in. She stood and approached Lenny, took his large hands in hers, and, looking up at him, said, “You’re a really good man. She’s lucky to have you.” Then she too embraced the massive wall of his chest and held him for a good minute. I liked the way she handled herself.

  We retreated to my room. I called James on the sat phone. “What else do you have, James?” I said when he picked up.

  “The general is active,” James said. “He’s made several calls. One of those calls went to one of the phones that was next to Lev shortly after the beacon got planted. Several in the Miami area; new numbers. I’ve got tracers on them, but like the others, they go on and off frequently. These guys are trying to be tricky… but they continue to use the same phone, like that’s enough to be invisible. Amateurs.”

  “Where is the general right now?” I asked.

  “His phone is off right now. But his last call, he was heading away from Miami… out to sea.” James paused for a minute, and I heard some papers rustling in the background. “There’s one other thing. I got an address for you, a warehouse down in the industrial section. One of the Lev phones called from down there. It might be something.”