by Dan Decker
BLACK BRICK
PART TWO
DAN DECKER
Text Copyright © 2015 Dan Decker
All rights reserved
Published by Xander Revolutions LC
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Dedication
For my wife, son, and family.
Contents
BLACK BRICK PART TWO
Dedication
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
BLACK BRICK PART THREE
Author’s Note
About the Author
Chapter 1
The black bag had a large zipper at the top for the main compartment. There were several pockets on the side. After I checked the outside pockets and found them empty, I eased back the large zipper, wondering if it had been booby trapped. Once it was open half an inch, I put my index finger into the bag and felt the zipper as far as my finger could stretch. I felt nothing but the zipper teeth. Odds were it would be safe for me to open the bag but I would still have to be careful.
There was a disturbance behind me. I turned as a large African American man pushed to the front of the crowd that had gathered several feet away from Shannon and me. He had a good couple of inches on me in height and was broader as well. His suit hung off his frame in a way that underscored the fact that he was in good shape. As he pointed a hand at us, I could see his bicep threatening to burst open the sleeve of his jacket.
“What are you idiots doing?” he asked. “You’re gonna get us killed.”
I shook my head. “The man that left this won't hesitate to blow us up.”
The black man took another step forward.
“Stay back,” I said. He looked like he'd be able to handle himself in a fight but I didn't have time to duke it out with him. I needed to take care of the bomb.
As I sized up the man, I wondered how he would respond if I escalated the situation. Would he back off? There was little chance that he was armed. Knowing that Shannon would chastise me later, I took out my pistol but kept it pointed at the ground. We needed to get this bomb off the train or disarm it and we needed to do it now. I couldn't afford to let this man become a distraction.
“He has a gun,” yelled a woman, she continued to yell but I couldn't make out what she said because she was drowned out by screams from other passengers. I didn't take my eyes off the man in front of me as I waited for him to respond. His eyes went to my pistol. The lack of alarm on his face made me wonder what he did for work. Had I guessed incorrectly? I felt a stab of panic and hoped that he didn’t have a gun. Was he a federal agent? A detective?
“Well, that didn’t help,” Shannon muttered. “I’d put away your pistol before somebody decides to be a hero. That black guy looks like he could break you in half.”
“Get yours out. He's more likely to leave us alone if he sees we’re both armed.”
“You’re a belligerent fool, you know that?” Shannon didn’t make a move for her pistol. “What are you going to do, wave it in the air and fire off a shot? Do you think that will calm him down?”
I saw her point but wasn't about to put it away. The man was continuing to eye my pistol and even though he hadn't been alarmed, it had given him pause. He was getting pushed back into the aisle by the people moving away from us. I stared at him, hoping he’d stay where he was. How much time had I lost already?
“I’ll take a look at the bomb to see if there is anything I can do,” I said. “Get the door open or do something to stop the train.”
Shannon glared at me but turned to the exit.
I looked at the people around us. Pulling out my gun had the intended effect. There was now a wide berth between us and everybody else. The closest person to me was the black man who hadn't moved once the crowd had pushed beyond him.
Several people were on their cell phones, but I doubted that anybody would be heard over this madness. I was surprised the train was still moving and wondered how the firefight hadn't come to the attention of the train operator yet.
Hopefully the people on their phones would be able to get through to somebody who could stop the train. I kept my eyes on the man as I knelt. Once I had, I turned my attention back to the bag.
I had just pulled back the zipper to the point I'd explored with my finger earlier and was probing further down the length of it, when the black man approached again. He had his hands out in a placating gesture and was struggling to keep his face calm. There was a small tremor in his hands. Considering the situation, I was impressed at how well he was able to hold things together. I wouldn't have been surprised to learn that he dealt with high levels of stress on a regular basis. I was just able to make out his words over the din.
“Don’t you be messing with that! You’re going to set it off for sure.”
I pointed my pistol at the man. “You want to get shot? Stay back!”
“You’re not going to shoot me,” he said.
I let go of the bag and held my pistol with both hands. “You’re wrong. I will shoot you, especially if you're stupid enough to try and keep me from getting a look at what's in the bag.” There was a thumping coming from behind me but I didn't turn to see what it was. I assumed that it was Shannon working on the door.
“Relax. We’re both on the same team. Just put the pistol down.”
I stood, took a step back, and motioned with my pistol, pointing to the bag. “Unzip it.” I had been able to feel half the length of the zipper. I was reasonably certain that it wasn’t booby trapped.
“Are you serious? I’m not going to be your guinea pig.”
“Then stay out of my way!”
When he didn't back down, I leveled my pistol and began to depress the trigger. The man wasn’t in any real danger, I knew the tension of my trigger pull intimately, and I still had a long way to go. My actions had the intended effect. I regretted that I had to resort to this, but he just wouldn't leave me alone. There was a part of me that recognized he was just trying to do what he thought was best, but the other much larger part knew I had to take care of the bomb. Every second he interfered with that kept me from doing it.
“Stop,” yelled the man as he moved back. I had finally got the reaction I’d wanted in the first place. Unfortunately, it had taken a more overt threat than most normal people would have required. Perhaps he'd been operating under the assumption that I wouldn't harm him. I didn't want to, but if I had to put a bullet in his leg so I could examine the bomb, I would.
“Don’t shoot,” yelled the man. “You’re crazy! You know that?”
“A slight twitch is all it takes, understand?” I asked, keeping the gun pointing at him with one hand, but easing my finger off the trigger.
The man nodded. I returned my attention to the bag and tugged on the zipper with other until I was beyond the halfway point. I put my hand through and felt the rest of the way down the zipper. It was clear, so I unzipped it.
“Look, I can see you’re being careful, but do you want to take this chance? There are children on this train.”
I looked up at the large man; he was standing several feet away from me again. In my concentration, I hadn't noticed him moving closer. Despite my annoyance with him, I respected his stubbornness. It was a bad situation all the way around. People had just been murdered. From his perspective, I was the
idiot that had picked up the bomb and was trying to figure out how to disarm it. Even though I could see his side, I couldn't afford to take the time to try to talk things through with him while I held a bomb that might explode at any time.
Actually, I corrected myself. It would go off; there was no way that Payne wouldn't set it off. He liked the chaos.
“I need to know what we’re dealing with,” I said to the man. “I may be able to disarm it.”
“That’s not good enough, either you know or you don’t. This is no time to be a hero.”
“You have a name?” I asked.
“Sure, Malcolm.”
“Malcolm,” I said trying to sound calm. “This will be a lot easier if you shut up and I don’t have to keep my gun on you. As you said before, we’re on the same side. We have a hundred percent chance of this going off unless we do something because those fools chased after the gunmen. I think it’s worth the risk of having me take a look. Don't you?” I left out the part where I would have been one those fools too if I'd been given a chance. “Can I trust you enough to put my gun away?”
“You government? Let me see a badge.”
“I’m a concerned citizen.”
“Why you got a gun? You’re either government or a criminal. Your friends made it off and you almost did too.”
I didn't like his implication that a law abiding citizen couldn't own a gun, but I didn't go there. “Well, I didn’t and now I’m here. The zipper isn’t wired and we can open it. If you don’t believe me, take a look yourself.” I stepped back as Malcolm approached and peered at the zipper.
“You’d better be right.” He motioned me back towards the bag, indicating that he wouldn't interfere with me trying to open it.
I looked into the man’s face, I wanted to believe him. I put my pistol away. There was a pause where Malcolm appeared to be considering a move, but it passed.
“You want to help?” I asked. “Try to get the bloody train operator on the phone. Tell him to stop the train.” I opened the bag the rest of the way and found myself staring down at several bricks of C-4. They were surrounded by a mess of wires. I stifled a groan. It was a rat nest.
“You got this?” Malcolm asked, as he took out his phone. I didn't have any idea how he'd be able to get to the appropriate person, but it was more than just an effort to get him out of my hair. This train needed to stop, preferably in a place to minimize the damage if the bomb did end up detonating. I tried not to think what would happen if I was still on the train when it did.
In answer to Malcolm’s question, I shook my head. Payne had done a bad job of building this. There were several places were duct tape held things together. What a mess.
“No,” I said, “it will take hours to untangle, and that’s if I hurry. We have to get it off the train now.”
Malcolm had directed his attention to his phone and hadn't heard me. He must have found the number to dial or he'd just given up and called the police. Either way, he had the phone to his ear and it looked like he was waiting for somebody to answer.
I looked towards the exit to see how Shannon was doing, hesitant about turning my back to Malcolm. I wouldn't put it past him to tackle me if the opportunity presented itself, but I needed to know if she was making any progress on the door. Since disarming the bomb wasn't an option, we'd have to get it off the train.
Shannon was kneeling by the door with a knife in her hand. She'd managed to spring a panel off the wall. At the moment, she wasn't moving and was staring at the wires behind the panel. Her lips were pursed. She shifted, trying to get a better angle, and blocked my view of what she was doing. I decided that she was cutting a wire because of the way her knife hand yanked up.
The door opened.
I don't know how she had known what to do, but I gave her my best smile and received one in return. It was too bad that I didn't have time to stop and take a picture. It was rare to see a genuine smile from Shannon. As the door opened, the wind rushed by, pulling at her hair and twisting it around her face.
Malcolm said something but I didn’t catch it. That was when I noticed that the passengers had moved even further away from us. Before, there had been a fair amount of space but many of the people were still in their seats. Now, most of the passengers were packed into either side of the car, as far away from us as they could get. I felt their eyes on me. Some held hope, others fear, but most were like Malcolm and were distrustful of what we were doing.
There was an older man that hadn't moved from his seat, even though he was only several rows away from us. His face was pale and his round eyes were glued to me, taking in every move I made as if trying to capture it all to memory.
He probably was. I could just see the man giving every last detail to the police of what Shannon and I looked like. I had started to wonder why he hadn't moved when I noticed the top of some crutches. I felt sorry for the man but couldn't do anything other than what I already was doing. I noticed several phones that were pointed our direction and looked away. The police wouldn’t need to ask the crippled man what we looked like. My whole exchange with Malcolm had probably been recorded. I made a mental note to mention this to Beltran. He was sometimes able to keep videos like that from going public.
Doing my best to hope that the agitated passengers weren't going to rush us, I picked up the bomb and turned to the open door.
“I'm not sure that's a good idea,” Shannon said at the same moment I realized we had a problem. When Shannon had started working on getting the door open, the train had been running through a commercial warehouse district where there had been plenty of open space to toss the bomb. That was mostly gone and had been replaced by residential buildings. While there was a short distance between the tracks and the city, it wouldn't be enough.
I racked my brain, trying to remember if the train either crossed over or ran parallel to a river, but my mind came up blank. Careful to keep my balance, I leaned my head out the window but couldn't see anything up ahead on this side that would be a better place. It wouldn't matter where I tossed off the bomb, people would probably die either way.
As I looked back into the train car, I could see the eyes of some of the passengers willing me to throw it from the train. Some started to yell, wanting to know why I hadn't chucked it yet.
Ignoring them, I looked at the other side of the train car. Malcolm had taken a seat and was covering one ear with his hand, his phone pressed to the other. Through the window, I could see a large vacant field. This looked better but not ideal. I’d have to hurry to get it off in time.
I looked back over my shoulder; an apartment building was passing by on the other side. I suffered a moment of indecision. I might be able to lower the bomb through the open door and drop it to the ground and hope that the fall wouldn't set it off so that the train could pass. The problem was that I didn’t know how big the blast would be. I didn’t dare poke around in the wires to see how much C-4 was in the bag.
All options sucked. It wasn't a solution but more of a choice between evils.
I made my decision and raised my gun, preparing to fire at the window. Malcolm, seeing me, stopped mid-sentence. I wasn't able to make out what he was saying, but I assumed that he'd been able to get some sort of emergency response team on the phone.
I yelled at him to tell them to shut down the other trains. If I was successful at getting the bomb off, the other trains needed to be stopped until the situation had been resolved.
“You sure about this?” Shannon asked, appearing at my side. I'd almost forgotten she was with me. I'd been so focused on the bomb and situation with Malcolm that she'd almost disappeared from my consciousness.
“Do you see another way?” I looked around the train. “We’ll all die if we don't do something.”
She didn’t answer.
I fired a shot at a window, half expecting the glass to be bullet proof. It wasn’t and shattered.
Using the top of my gun to break out enough glass for me to fit through, I igno
red the renewed screaming and sounds of panic coming from the other passengers as I risked putting my head out the broken window to determine if another train was coming on the parallel track.
I couldn't tell. I looked at my watch. It had been five minutes since Payne and the others had left.
Was that all?
It felt like it had been a lifetime. Too be honest, I was surprised that the bomb hadn't gone off already, I thought about Payne with the detonator in hand. Five minutes was a long time in the mind of a madman. Malcolm was beside me when I took my head out of the broken window.
“I’m not sure this is a good idea.” He still held his phone to his ear. “I've talked to the police. They're going to get in contact with the train operator. We can wait this out.”
The bomb started to make a beeping sound.
“No we can't,” I said. “Grab on to something and tell others to do the same.”
I could see fear on his face. I couldn't blame him; the beeping was the most disconcerting sound I'd ever heard. He shook his head and told me I'd better be right about this before putting his phone back to his ear and grabbing on to a seat. He shouted into his phone, but I couldn't make out what he was saying. I wouldn't have been surprised to hear him say that there was a crazy man on the train trying to play hero.
The beeping got louder.
I said a prayer as I grabbed the top of the window with one hand while preparing to toss it with the other. Taking a deep breath, I flung the bag out of the train car. Just after I released it I realized that it was headed straight towards a pole that I hadn’t noticed.
It hit the pole and then bounced onto the other track. Cursing, I yelled out to Malcolm intending to tell him what had happened so he could pass it on to whoever was on the other end of his phone, but my voice was drowned out by the noise from the screaming passengers.
In all the confusion it took me a moment to realize that the sound of their hysteria was covering up the noise of an oncoming train.
