Downward Dog in Miami

by Larry David Allman

It was Lauren!

  He listened for about two minutes, then responded to Lauren’s pitch. “I’m at a meeting. I’ll take care of it when I get back to the office in an hour or two.” He clicked off and nodded to himself like what had just happened on the phone was a good thing. He pointed to the door, the giant opened it, and they both went in. It was close to eight-thirty.

  “Stay here. I’m going in,” I said to Lenny.

  He just nodded. He knew exactly what to do.

  I put my phone on airplane mode, as the rules on the wall instructed, and entered the courtroom. Lev and his giant were sitting in the back, close to the door, with Lev in an aisle seat. Olivia was right up front, first row. I took a seat on the opposite side of the room toward the back, away from the door, where I had a view of everything and everybody. The seats in the courtroom were about three-quarters full.

  Action time.

  * * *

  Lenny’s phone rang. It was Linda. He accepted immediately. It was five-thirty a.m. for her.

  “What’s up?” he asked.

  “Where’s Derek? I just called.”

  “He’s in the courtroom.”

  “James has a problem. Have him get back to me ASAP.”

  “Will do. You at the office?”

  “Yes, where else when we’re on business? You may not be able to go to Cayman today. Some problem with the phones.”

  “Okay. I’ll tell Derek when he comes out.”

  “Take care,” she said, and clicked off.

  * * *

  The judge came on the bench, with the deputy commanding the usual “All rise.” The judge was an older man, with serious gray hair but without glasses. The sign in front of him on his bench read Honorable Harris Langdon. He glanced and nodded at the clerk, who called the first case.

  “People versus Igor Ljubov and Alexi Grigovich. Counsel will state their appearances.”

  “Mary Cole for the People,” a young woman sitting at the left-side table said in a strong voice. She had short brown hair and wore a blue power suit.

  “Jefferson Pike, Pike, Oberdorfer, and Schein for Defendants,” offered the attorney who had greeted Lev outside. He appeared to be looking down and seemed focused on the file in front of him at the right-side table.

  “Thank you,” the judge said. “Please be seated. This is an arraignment for what looks to be weapons violations. Is that correct, Ms. Cole?” he asked.

  “Yes, Your Honor, felony violations of sections 790.07, 790.15 and 790.16 of the Florida Statutes.”

  “Thank you. Before we hear the plea from the Defendants, we have an administrative matter to take care of. Mr. Pike, your clients were bailed out on a cash bail of twenty thousand dollars each. Cash,” he emphasized the word. “But we need their passports. You signed out on this. Can you please bring them forward?”

  The attorney took a deep, audible breath and stood up. “Your Honor, we have a little problem. If the Court…”

  The judge cut him off. “What sort of problem, Counselor?”

  “We’re trying to locate our clients to secure those passports.”

  “Where are your clients?”

  “Judge, we don’t know where they are this morning. We’re trying to locate them.”

  “That’s not good enough, Counselor. You personally signed off on this.”

  “We’re searching for them.”

  “Searching! What does that mean? Counselor, these are serious weapons charges. The individuals had no permits, no licenses, and no verifiable training, yet they were caught using automatic weapons, if I’m reading this complaint right. Is that accurate, Ms. Cole?”

  “Yes, Your Honor, that’s exactly right: automatic weapons discharged in a residential area. There are families in that community, Your Honor, with children,” she larded it on adroitly.

  “Mr. Pike, you will secure and return those passports in the next hour. Who employs these individuals? They were bailed on cash bonds—on an automatic weapons charge. Do you want to explain that? Who is their employer?” The judge was getting angry at Pike, something every courtroom attorney knows to avoid like the plague.

  Pike appeared to be withering. “They were employed by Siroco International Investment Corporation.”

  “And where is this Siroco located?”

  Pike gave the Palmetto Plaza address, which was just a few blocks away from the courthouse.

  “That’s close by. Is it possible these individuals are at their workplace?”

  “Definitely not, Judge,” he said, turning backward and glancing at Lev, who looked furious.

  “What do you mean, ‘definitely not’? You know where they are?”

  “No, Judge, I was just trying to say—”

  The Judge cut him off again. “I’m going to revoke their bail, Counselor, and hold you personally responsible for this situation.”

  “Your Honor, if you’ll just give me a day to resolve—” he tried to answer.

  “Stop! This is unacceptable to this court. Your promise means something, Counselor. Is that your client you’re looking back at?”

  “No, Judge, that’s—”

  Then it became a movie. Lev stood and walked quickly toward the door. The giant followed.

  “You. Stop!” the judge yelled. “Bailiff, stop those men from leaving!”

  The deputy stood up, but it was too late. Lev had opened the door and left. The giant was just getting through; he slammed the door shut from the outside. The deputy grabbed the door handles and pushed, but nothing happened. Through the small glass window, I could see the giant blocking the door.

  Man, I thought, good action here in Miami courts.

  I saw Olivia filming the whole thing with her cell phone, contrary to the rule of no cameras being allowed in court.

  The deputy pushed harder on the doors. Nothing.

  * * *

  Lenny was checking his cell phone when the courtroom doors burst open and Lev came barging out. Lev turned and sprinted toward the exit from which he had earlier appeared. The giant mashed the doors closed and placed himself in a position to block them from opening outward with his foot and his oversized body. Someone was pounding on the doors from inside.

  Lev ran at full speed down the hallway. It was obvious what was happening: something had gone horribly wrong for Lev in the hearing. Lenny placed his cell phone in his bag, jumped up, and moved with speed toward the giant, who was pushing his massive body against the door with his head turned sideways to give more effort.

  In four large steps, Lenny came behind him, set his feet, and fired a rabbit punch into the giant’s kidneys, focusing his three hundred pounds and all the force he could generate. It landed squarely; it might have killed a smaller man, not this one. The giant’s knees bent slightly. He grabbed the door for balance, stayed motionless for a second.

  Lenny moved back in and fired another rabbit punch at the other side. The giant buckled again but did not go down. He turned his head, grunted something in a foreign language, and stepped away from the door. He was groggy, but he was bigger than Lenny by at least two inches and fifty pounds. Lenny took his measure and reacted accordingly. Never underestimate someone who is bigger and maybe stronger than you. The giant moved away from the door. Lenny backed up and bent his legs slightly, assumed a fighting stance, and brought his hands up in front of his chest.

  “C’mon asshole… Come get it,” Lenny taunted him. He gestured with his hands, inflaming the giant to step in and engage.

  Lenny had skills—and his years in the NFL also didn’t hurt when it came to physical confrontation. The giant stopped and sized up the situation. Lenny saw the opening. As he took a step forward, the doors to the courtroom burst open.

  The deputy came out first. Several people crowded behind him. He reached for his taser, pulled it out, and fired a shot at the giant from
behind. The dart, luckily, struck the giant in the back of the neck and released fifty thousand volts. It had no effect. The giant reached up to pull it out, but before he could get his hand on it, the deputy fired another taser dart, which struck the giant in the middle of the back. Another fifty thousand volts.

  This one worked. The giant dropped onto both knees. Lenny saw his eyes flutter, then close as the neutralized giant fell face forward onto the tiled floor. His body continued to shake violently for another minute, then stopped. He was out.

  The deputy was swiftly on his comm unit calling for emergency back-up: “All units, code red at 143, respond immediately.” He reholstered his comm unit and then his taser, whipped out metal cuffs, kneeled down and grabbed the giant’s large hands, and cuffed his hands behind his back. Lenny backed up and took his seat on the bench as deputies rushed from both directions. One had his weapon drawn.

  “Secure!” the deputy yelled to his colleagues.

  Lenny saw Derek walk out the door with the small woman from the newspaper crowding behind him, her cell phone held above her head, capturing all the action.

  * * *

  The giant gained consciousness a few minutes after being tased. Lenny and I sat and watched as the team of five deputy sheriffs took control of the scene. Because of his size, they placed extra-strength shackles around his ankles. After they took his phone, pocket litter, and a knife disguised as a comb, they helped him to his feet. He was unsteady at first, but after two minutes of standing, they formed a phalanx around him and led him to a waiting department prisoner van, which they had called to the courthouse street entrance.

  The deputy from the court was giving a statement to one of the other deputies when his comm unit crackled and a voice told him to return to the courtroom. It was back in session.

  I followed him through the doors. Olivia almost knocked me down from behind; she rushed to the front row and placed her cell phone on a seat next to her to capture audio of the hearing, which was against the court rule of no recording devices. She didn’t care. The story came first for her; it was her mission.

  Judge Langdon came on the bench almost immediately. He looked as if he had run a marathon during the break, red-faced and with some sweat on his forehead. The deputy had neglected to order “All rise.”

  “Counselor, what was that?” the judge said, looking angrily at Pike. “In thirty years on the bench, nothing like that has ever happened in my court. You better have a good explanation for all of this. Was that your client?” he asked, although it seemed that he already knew the answer.

  “I’m not sure, Judge. If you’ll—”

  The judge could take no more. “You don’t know!” He slammed his open palm down on his bench top so that the slap echoed loudly throughout the courtroom. “You don’t know! What are you trying to pull here today?”

  “Judge, it may have been. I didn’t get a good look at him.”

  “You don’t know your own client! I’ve had enough with you, Mr. Pike.”

  “But Judge—”

  “No buts, Pike. I’m fining you for contempt of court, five thousand dollars. You’ll be held in the civil contempt jail in this building until that sum is paid in full.”

  “Judge—”

  “Just shut up, Pike. You’re only making things worse. Ms. Cole!”

  “Yes, Your Honor.” She stood immediately. I was sure that she had never had such a good day in court in her short legal life.

  “Ms. Cole, I want you to prepare arrest warrants for these two Defendants and have those warrants executed today.” He looked at his clerk, who had stopped all work and was enjoying the show. “Call the Marshal’s Office, Lorna, and have a marshal here in this court in the next five minutes.” He made some notes in his file. “I’m revoking bail for said Defendants.” He was writing more vigorously, as was the clerk, who was simultaneously on the phone to the Marshal’s Office in the building. There was silence while they continued scribbling.

  Pike seemed glued to his file or the table in front of him. His performance today could possibly be one of the worst in this courthouse’s history.

  Within a minute, a marshal burst confidently through the doors and walked to the well in front of the judge. “Yes, Judge, Marshal Bill Thompson. You need something?”

  “Hi Bill. Thanks for coming so quickly. We have fugitives at large. Ms. Cole will brief you. I would like for you to go to the employer, find these Defendants, and arrest them and bring them to this court. I want this done today. Can you do that?”

  “Sure, no problem.”

  The judge shuffled his papers, closed his file, and stood up. “Thank you, everybody. I apologize for what happened here today. I have never seen anything like this in thirty years. Pike, pay your fine or go to jail until you do. Ms. Cole, you know what I want. We’ll take a short recess before continuing today’s docket.”

  “All rise!” the deputy remembered to say as Langdon made his way from the bench and retreated to his chambers.

  * * *

  Lenny and I exited the courtroom to the hallway and waited for Olivia to come out. She was probably checking video or dictating notes inside. She finally emerged.

  “Normal day in court in Florida?” I joked.

  “Yeah. Right. I have to go. This should be front page, above the fold.” She was almost out of breath.

  “Will this run tomorrow?” I asked.

  “I hope so… You don’t think that was newsworthy?” she stammered as if I was trying to contain her in some way.

  “No, no, I just… Look, we’ve got some things to do, and then we’ll share with you. I promise you’ll love it. I promise. Can I see your article after it’s approved?”

  “Approved… What’s with you? I’m not some rookie!” she fired back at me.

  “No, not at all. I just need to coordinate. I need to see what kind of pressure you’re throwing at Siroco. It will all change tomorrow, I promise.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’ll give you something tomorrow, something big, I promise. Just let me see what you will be publishing.”

  “You better not be planning to screw me.” Not much chance of that. With her character, she was the last woman with whom I would consider having sexual relations.

  Lenny and I nodded to her, thinking we had come to some kind of an arrangement, and walked away. She left in the other direction, screaming into her cell, something about “Get me Manny, right now!” in a voice much larger than her physical size.

  “There’s a problem with James,” Lenny said to me as we walked out of the courthouse toward my car in valet parking.

  “What kind of problem?” I fired back, a little too rudely.

  “Linda called. You were in the courtroom. Let’s call her from the car. We’re going to the airport now… aren’t we?”

  “Sorry, yeah, we be going to Cayman,” I responded in a lame, jokey Caribbean accent.

  “That’s more like it,” Lenny said, slapping me on the back lightly.

  The valet got my car, I paid sixty dollars for one hour of parking at Miami rates, gave the blond valet kid a ten, drove off the lot, and headed for MIA, about twenty minutes away.

  “Alexa, get me Linda,” I ordered as we merged into heavy Monday-morning, downtown-Miami traffic.

  “Hey, you guys,” she said as she came right on. “James has a problem with the phones. I told him to tell you directly, not waste time with me.”

  “Is there a reason you didn’t question him about this?”

  “No… Well, you know, he’s got gender issues.”

  “What?”

  “He doesn’t respect me.”

  “Jeez… We don’t have time for this kind of shit.”

  “Okay, sorry. Look, you guys are operational now. I can’t make any decision here. It’s better if he tells you whatever the problem is a
nd you tell him how to fix it.”

  “You’re right. I’ll call him next.”

  “Don’t be upset,” she whined. She knew how to twist me.

  “Stay there. Back to you soon.” I clicked off. I could be upset with this—if I had the time.

  “What is this with women nowadays? What’s that about?” he joked.

  “Us males, we got to stick together,” I lamely responded. “Whatever. Alexa, get me James on his cell phone,” I ordered.

  He picked up on the first ring, obviously waiting and ready.

  “I’ve got a problem,” he answered.

  And we’ve got a flight to Cayman in a few minutes, I thought, consciously restraining all emotions. “What’s the problem?” I asked.

  14

  Lenny and I were surrounded in bumper-to-bumper traffic on our way to MIA to take our charter flight to Cayman… and James had a problem! Something like that could be the kind of pothole in an op that broke the axle and pushed the car into a ditch on the side of the road. Not today, I thought. People were depending on me.

  “What kind of problem?” I asked James in the most composed and calm voice I could muster.

  “The phones. I can’t control all of them the way you want. Mostly the Verizon cell phones for this guy Santo. It’s Verizon, man. I told you, their security is the best.” He paused.

  He was one of the best hackers in the world with one of the most powerful computing operations in the world. If he couldn’t figure a way around this, no one could.

  “What do you think you can do with that guy? He’s the critical link in this whole thing today.”

  “I can do one of them. They won’t notice me if I just do one.”

  “Okay, let’s work with that,” I said as we moved three inches in the thick traffic. Lenny was doing something on his cell.

  “There’s an accident a mile ahead. You can’t get off before it,” Lenny informed me. It was ten a.m.; we had a good hour before our flight to Cayman.

  “James, give me your best. Can you do the spoof?” That would be the text from Santo to Gonzalez that I was coming for a two p.m. meeting.

  “Yes,” James said quickly, “that’s not a problem. It’s the call forwarding. If you knew exactly when the guy would be calling him… but I’m thinking you need a window for that—ten minutes, thirty minutes, something like that. That’s a lot of time to block a phone. And then you have to know which of his three phones your guy will be calling. I can’t do all three. I might get caught just doing the one.”