by Alex Cage
“You work matters of national security. Yeah, I know, Jake, I hear it all the time.”
Toben’s next inhale was more audible. He exhaled slowly.
Kristi folded her arms and looked down at the floor, then back at Toben. “And do you have something you need to tell me?”
“I told you I’ll talk to Matt,” Toben sighed.
“That’s not what I’m talking about,” Kristi hinted.
Toben stood quiet for a moment. “I… I… don’t—,” he stammered, struggling for words.
Kristi was about to say something, but the hum of a motor drifted in from out front. “That must be Matt,” she said instead.
“I’ll talk to him,” Toben said, walking to the front door. He opened the door to see a blue Chevy Impala parked in front of his house. He walked down the steps and across the yard. The faint sound of music and the smell of weed met him halfway. In the driver seat was a young white male with sandy blond hair. He glanced at Toben briefly with big blue eyes.
Toben walked to the front of the car and stood over the hood. The car’s headlights drew a large shadow behind him. Motionless, he stared through the windshield. Matt was in the passenger seat. He glanced at Toben with his eyes bulging and mouth gaping. He rubbed the top of his low-faded hair then dropped his head before turning to the driver and whispering something. Toben stayed where he was with arms folded, eyes squinted, and lips slightly puckered.
The music volume lowered. Matt looked at his father once again before opening the car door, throwing on his backpack, and climbing out. Toben tracked his son’s steps as he stepped up the curb. The blue car pulled off.
Matt walked past Toben and towards the house.
“Matt!” Toben called after him.
Without even a turn of the head, Matt went up to the front door.
“Don’t walk away from me when I’m calling you, boy!” Toben dashed after him, grabbing his arm and shutting the door behind them. “Didn’t you hear me?”
Matt shrugged his father’s grip from his arm. “Get off me!”
Toben grabbed his collar. “Who do you think you’re talking to?!” he fumed.
“What’s going on?” Kristi yelled from down the hall.
Toben released his grip and the boy pulled away.
“Who was that in the car?” Toben asked.
“No one.”
“What happened?” Kristi asked, entering the foyer area.
Matt filled his cheeks, then exhaled heavily.
“Your son here was out smoking weed and—” Toben started.
“Matt, where have you been?” Kristi interrupted.
He didn’t answer, just looked at her.
“I made dinner, so let’s just eat, okay?” she implored.
“I’m not hungry!” he barked, then adjusted his backpack and raced up the stairs.
“Get back down here!” Toben demanded.
Kristi’s gaze fell to the floor and she began to sob.
Toben walked and put his arms around her. “It’ll be o—”
She threw his arms away from her. “Ju—just don’t,” she said, shaking her head and walking down the hall.
Toben took a step after her but his phone rang. He sighed, reaching into his pocket and lifting his phone. “Toben,” he answered.
“Good evening, Agent Toben,” a familiar voice replied.
“Who’s this?”
“It’s Special Agent Karl Stokes from the DIA.”
“How did you get my number?”
Stokes chuckled. “Really?”
“How can I help you, Agent Stokes?”
“You can’t.”
Toben clenched his teeth and shook his head but made no reply.
“Are you home, Agent Toben?”
“As a matter of fact, I am. Do you need something?”
“I just wanted to inform you we found your guy,” Stokes continued.
“Who, Black?”
“Yep.”
“Wait. Like I was trying to tell you earlier, we’re not sure if he’s our guy.”
“We’ll know soon enough. He was there on the scene, right? So we can at least get some information from him.”
“I guess we can question him.”
“Don’t worry, Agent Toben, we’ll bring him in tomorrow. Enjoy the rest of your evening,” Stokes said and ended the call.
“Prick,” Toben grunted.
He opened the front door and paused to look over his shoulder up the stairway and then down the hall before walking outside. Entering his car, he poked at his phone and held it to his ear. The phone rang until a voice messaging prompt started. He immediately hung up and dialed another number. It rang three times before someone answered.
“Hello?”
“Boyar, it’s Toben, did I wake you?”
“Are you kidding me? It’s still early.”
“Good, how about grabbing a drink with me?”
“Okay. The usual spot?”
“The usual spot,” Toben echoed.
THE USUAL SPOT was a popular sports bar Toben frequented. He immediately spotted Boyar at the bar, sitting with a drink in his hand and staring down at the bar top. The music, the chatter, and the smell of chicken wings were a barrage on the senses. Toben eased through the crowd to Boyar, patting him on his shoulder. He looked up and nodded as his partner found a seat next to him.
“Weird day today, huh?” Boyar said, throwing back his bottle.
Toben sighed. “Yeah, tell me about it,” he said. “I’ll have my usual,” he instructed the bartender.
The bartender nodded, turning towards the drink counter.
“Agent Stokes called me tonight,” Toben said, facing Boyar.
“Oh, the DIA guy. What did he want?”
“Just to inform me they found Black and don’t need our help with anything.”
Boyar chuckled, shaking his head. “Well, at least it’s not our problem to deal with. After what I read about the guy, I don’t want to be the one going after him.”
“Yeah, but we don’t even know if he’s our guy.”
“Well, he was there, so he may have some information.”
“That’s the same thing Stokes said.”
Boyar shrugged.
The bartender slid a foaming glass across the bar to Toben. “There you go, Jake.”
Toben nodded in thanks.
The bartender walked to the opposite end of the bar to serve two men who had just walked in.
“So, how’s Kristi?” Boyar asked.
Toben sat quiet for a moment. “She… she’s okay,” he said, turning up his glass.
“Good. What about Matt? I haven’t seen him in a while.”
“He’s being a young adult.”
“Oh. That’s one of the reasons I haven’t settled down yet.”
“What, kids?”
“Exactly.”
Toben chuckled. “I figured you’d want a house full of them.”
“Nah. That can be pretty expensive, especially if this new law passes.”
“Just pulling your chain.”
Toben’s phone vibrated in his pocket. He removed it, checking the incoming number. He jumped from his seat. “I have to take this,” he said.
Boyar threw his hand up in acknowledgment.
Toben stepped outside to answer the call. “Hi.”
“Hi,” a female’s voice replied softly. “Where are you?”
“I’m out having a drink with Victor.”
“Do you have time to talk—in person?”
“Sure. I can be over in about fifteen minutes.”
Toben ended the call and hurried back to Boyar. On his way, he noticed the two men at the opposite end of the bar watching him. They attempted to disguise their efforts by quickly looking away. He didn’t recognize them, so he just shrugged it off.
Boyar looked over his shoulder as Toben approached. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah—yeah, sorry, but I have to go,” he answered, reaching for his
wallet.
Boyar waved him off. “Don’t worry about it. You paid last time, I got it.”
Toben nodded. “Thanks, I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said, threading his way to the door.
TWELVE MINUTES LATER, Toben parked in front of a three-story concrete building. It was a condo development that rested on the corner of intersecting streets. The neighborhood was flat, which made it easier to see down the streets, in contrast to the more hilly areas nearby. He exited the car, scanned the area, and walked up the sidewalk. Arriving at the front door of a particular condo, he knocked twice.
The sound of someone moving inside rolled against the door. A few moments later, it was unlocked and cracked open.
“You made it,” Ashley said with a forced smile.
“I did.”
She opened the door further, moving aside as Toben entered. She closed and locked the door, taking a moment before facing him.
“Look, Jake—”
“Ashley, I—” Toben spoke at the same time.
They both fell silent, creating a cloud of hush in the room.
Ashley broke the silence. “Let’s sit down,” she suggested, pointing to her left.
The two walked across the hardwood floor past the stairs and into the living room, Ashley leading the way and Toben following. There was a sofa facing a wall that had a flat-screen TV mounted on it. In front of the sofa was a coffee table and on either side were cushioned chairs. They looked comfortable but contemporary. There were a few pictures on the wall and coffee table of Ashley with some older woman whom Toben knew as her mother. Ashley sat on the sofa and Toben on the chair to her left. Once again, they both began to speak at the same time.
Ashley raised her palm to her lover. “I’ll go first,” she instructed.
He nodded in agreement.
“Jake… I—I can’t do this anymore. We can’t do this anymore. What are we doing?”
Toben’s lips split apart.
“We work together, and you have a wife and son, for crying out loud. I can’t expect you to leave your family,” Ashley continued. She stood, shaking her head, “This is not the woman I am.”
Toben looked towards the floor. He exhaled then stood, grabbing her hand.
Ashley softly pulled her hand away and slightly turned her face.
Toben grabbed her hand again, moving in closer and pressing his forehead against hers. “You’re right,” he whispered. “You’re right and I’m so sorry.”
“It’s not all on you.”
“Yeah, but I’m the married one.”
“And I knew you were married.”
“Yeah.”
Ashley pushed Toben’s chest gently, creating some distance between them. “We just can’t do this anymore, okay? Someone is bound to get hurt.”
Toben, tight-lipped, nodded. “Yeah… you’re right—you’re right.”
The two stood in silence for a few moments.
“Well, I guess I better be heading home,” Toben said, walking to the door. “I have a feeling tomorrow will be a long day.”
Ashley frowned. “What makes you say that?”
Toben turned to face her, holding the doorknob. “Ahh… I received a call tonight from that DIA agent, Stokes. He said they found Black and will bring him in for questioning tomorrow.”
“That’s a good thing, right?”
“Maybe. It’s just strange that he’s putting so much emphasis on this guy, when there was another suspect on the scene.”
“He may not know about the other guy.”
Toben shook his head. “I don’t know… I’m positive his team has all the information we have and maybe even more.”
“Well, at least we can get some information from this Orlando Black, and Boyar is continuing to collect camera footage from the surrounding businesses. So we’ll have more information to help us get to the bottom of this.”
“Yep. Provided Hanten lets us continue to work the case.”
Ashley tilted her head, smiling. “It’ll be okay.”
“Okay. Well, good night,” Toben said, opening the door and stepping out.
“Good night. See you tomorrow, boss,” Ashley replied.
Toben made it to the sidewalk before turning to her and cracking a smile.
She smiled back, slowly closing the door.
He pivoted and started towards his car, noticing a flash of light to his right as he did so. A white Honda was parked across the street. Another flash of light glinted from the car, then another. Toben’s eyes narrowed. He took a deep breath, placed his hand on his issued .40 Smith & Wesson, and paced straight towards the Honda. As he approached, the headlights flickered on and the car screeched past him. He stood in the middle of the street, lightly panting as the car hung a sharp left at the intersection.
5.
BLACK SPRANG FROM bed early the next morning. He stood stretching and yawning for a moment before falling to the floor and performing his push-ups. Next were sit-ups, followed by some deep stretching and form practice, and breathing exercises to conclude. He stepped into the bathroom and hovered over the sink, shirtless. The warm water felt good on his face. He watched his reflection in the mirror while taking a washcloth to his body. After getting fully dressed, he strapped his dual knife holsters around his ankles and loaded his pockets with his belongings that rested on the small desk. Picking up the detonator device, he contemplated tossing it into the trash. But he figured the better play would be to mail it to the authorities on his way out of town.
He grabbed his travel sack and walked to the door, making one last sweep of the room before heading downstairs. At the desk was the same receptionist who had checked him in the day before.
“Good morning, sir,” the clerk said.
Black nodded. “Morning. I’m checking out,” he said, placing the room key cards on the counter.
“Okay,” the young guy noted, sliding the cards closer to himself. He inspected one of them before turning his attention to the computer screen and typing. “Hmm… it says you were booked for two nights—yeah, I remember, I was the one who booked it. Is everything okay with the room?”
“Everything is fine. I just won’t be staying as long as I thought.”
“I see. I’ll get you on your way, sir.”
“Thank you.”
Eight minutes later Black was in the parking garage starting up his car. He drove out of the garage, turning left onto Washington Street. The early morning darkness still covered the sky. The streets had zero foot traffic. There were no vehicles on the roads, with the exception of a few parked cars. He drove past the intersection for Kearny Street and into Chinatown. In his rearview mirror he saw the bright reflection of headlights behind him. He flipped on his indicator to make a right turn. As he veered right the car behind him indicated the same and followed. A couple minutes later he indicated he was turning left and the car again followed suit. Black got a good look in the side mirror as the car angled after him. It looked like the same white Honda Accord he had seen the day before.
At the next intersection, he flicked the signal indicator for a right turn. The car trailing him did the same. But Black didn’t turn right; he turned left at the last second. The car followed behind him anyway. A few intersections later, he signaled for a left turn but made a right. The driver behind him did the same.
Black sighed. “Great,” he grumbled.
He eased off the gas, bringing his car to a cruise. His pursuer slowed as well. He approached a stop sign, revving the Viper’s engine before shooting past the sign and making a left turn, then another, then a right. He ran through a red light while the car behind him made every attempt to keep up. Black floored it until he had a straight shot to the Golden Gate Bridge. The bridge, like most of the city, was empty that time of the morning. Black accelerated across it until the headlights of the car following him disappeared. He rode the far right lane, the lane closest to the bridge’s sidewalk. He squeezed the brakes. His car slowed, jerking forward while the tires mil
dly screeched to a halt.
He threw the car in park and waited. The sun lifted over the horizon. The smell of ocean water seeped through his car while the breeze softly knocked against it. He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, watching his mirror, noticing the headlights of the pursuing car rapidly approaching. As the car neared, it slowed and came to a stop about a car’s length behind the Viper.
Black exhaled. “Well, I guess I better introduce myself,” he said quietly, exiting the car and leaving the engine running.
He walked towards the other car, peering past the bright headlights that glared in his face. He saw two figures in the front seats. When the headlights were killed and the four-way emergency blinkers came to life, Black was able to make out the figures. The same two guys from yesterday. The men sat still, giving their target a hard stare. Black leaned against the trunk of his car with folded arms, staring back even harder. The men looked at each other, the one in the driver seat said something, and the other shrugged. The two exited the car. From the passenger side stepped out the silky black-haired man and from the driver side the man with the messy blond hair. Both men had their hands close to their hips, touching the butt of their firearms. They walked to the front of their car and faced Black.
Black stood up from the trunk of his car, carefully unfolding his arms. “How can I help you two?”
“We’re the SFPD,” the guy with the slick hair said.
The guy with the messy blond hair looked at him silently.
“Do you have any proof of that?” Black asked.
The blond man stepped forward, opening his light coat slightly and exposing his badge clipped to his belt. “Is that proof enough for you?” he said.
Black shook his head. “So you are cops. Just not very good ones.”
“What are you trying to say?” the slick-haired guy said.
“I’m saying you two may not be good for your jobs. I already know you’re not good at your jobs. If you were, I would’ve been stopped for at least one of the multiple traffic laws I broke. Since I wasn’t, I ask myself, are these two good for their jobs?”
“We saw those traffic violations. That’s why we pulled you over.”
Black raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t stop me, buddy. I stopped on my own, remember?”